"Where did you two go?" Harry asked as he and Ron finally pushed their way through the crowd to Tyler's side. His arms were full of bags, and his eyes were still bright from the forbidden thrill of Hogsmeade. "We didn't see you after you left Dervish and Banges."
"We visited a few other shops," Tyler said, glancing at the parcels Harry was carrying. "Looks like you did some shopping too."
Harry looked down at the bags in his hands and immediately seemed a little embarrassed. "I couldn't help it. There was so much I'd never seen before."
That was putting it mildly. Harry had grown up with almost nothing that truly belonged to him, and for most of his life, even wanting something had felt pointless. Now he had vaults of money his parents had left behind, old family wealth that had only grown thanks to the Potter family's successful hair potion business, and an entire magical village full of things he had never imagined.
Ron glanced at the bags with open envy, though he tried to hide it. The Weasleys were not poor in warmth or noise or family, but they were certainly poor in pocket money. Fortunately, Harry had already proved generous enough to share whatever he bought, especially sweets, and Ron was beginning to think that was one of the finest qualities a friend could have.
In front of the Three Broomsticks, the wandering Hogwarts students had gathered into a dense, restless crowd. Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Professor Sprout stood at the front with grim expressions, and the sight of all three together was enough to make even the boldest students lower their voices. No one knew exactly what punishment might be coming, but everyone suspected it would be memorable.
The students were nervous, but there was comfort in numbers. So many of them had gone into Hogsmeade that punishing everyone seemed almost impossible. If detention came, at least half the school would suffer together, which made the whole thing feel less like a disaster and more like an unfortunate group activity.
"Has everyone arrived?" Professor McGonagall called, her voice cutting cleanly through the murmurs. "Prefects from each house, count your students immediately. First years, come to my side."
The prefects began moving through their houses at once, sorting students and calling names with varying degrees of patience. Tyler, Harry, Ron, Jamie, and the other first years followed the flow of younger students toward Professor McGonagall. She held the list of new students in one hand, her eyes sharp behind her square glasses as she prepared to count them herself.
"Hannah Abbott," she called.
"Here, Professor," came a small voice from the front.
Name after name followed, and Professor McGonagall checked each one carefully. She was not merely taking attendance for the sake of order. After what had happened to the Hogwarts Express, the possibility of even one missing child was enough to tighten every line of her face.
"Hermione Granger," Professor McGonagall called.
No one answered. A ripple passed through the first years, and several students looked around as if Hermione might emerge from the crowd with a book in hand and a disapproving expression already prepared.
"Is Miss Hermione Granger present?" Professor McGonagall asked again, more sharply this time.
Tyler raised his hand. "Professor McGonagall."
Her eyes turned to him at once. "Mr Blake, is there something you need to tell me?"
"Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom didn't come to Hogsmeade," Tyler said. "They're still at Hogsmeade Station."
"Oh," Professor McGonagall said, and some of the tension left her face. "Then it seems there are still a few first years capable of obeying instructions."
Several of the first years lowered their heads, suddenly very interested in their shoes. They had not even been officially sorted yet, and already they were being compared unfavourably to the students who had stayed behind. Still, most of them were new enough to feel properly guilty; after a year or two at Hogwarts, that softness would likely be worn down by corridors, secret passages, and older students with bad ideas.
Professor Snape and Professor Sprout soon returned to McGonagall's side. "The count is complete," Professor Sprout said quietly. "No one appears to be missing from the groups we gathered."
"The older students are accounted for as well," Snape added, his voice cold. "Though some of them seem tragically disappointed not to have had more time for shopping."
Professor McGonagall finally allowed herself a small breath of relief. The students were safe, and for the moment, that mattered more than scolding them. She looked across the sea of black robes and anxious faces, clearly tempted to deliver a lecture that would have withered half the village.
In the end, she held it back. There was no need to frighten the students with suspicions about dark wizards or deliberate attacks. The adults would handle that part, and the children could be dealt with after they were safe.
"All right," Professor McGonagall called. "Everyone will return to Hogsmeade Station immediately."
The announcement surprised the crowd. Many students had expected punishment on the spot, or at least a fierce lecture about rules, recklessness, and the disgraceful misuse of an early arrival. Instead, Professor McGonagall said nothing more, which somehow made the situation feel even stranger.
Under the personal escort of Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, and Professor Sprout, the students began moving back toward the station. The sky above Hogsmeade had turned a heavy grey, and the air felt low and damp against their faces. Wind tugged at robes and stirred loose leaves along the road, carrying the promise of a hard rain not far behind.
"It's weird that the professors didn't say anything, isn't it?" one student whispered as they walked.
"There are too many of us," another muttered back. "They can't punish everyone."
"Still," a third said, trying not to sound too pleased, "we got to visit Hogsmeade before school even started. That's brilliant."
Harry walked beside Tyler, his shopping bags rustling with every step. After a moment, he leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Tyler, the professors won't find out what really happened, will they?"
Ron stiffened slightly on Harry's other side. The whole runaway-train disaster had started with Tyler and Jamie, and while Ron had enjoyed parts of it more than he probably should have, he did not want to imagine what the professors would do if they knew. Expulsion suddenly felt less like one of Hermione's favourite threats and more like something that might actually happen.
"Don't worry," Tyler said. "As long as the few of you who know don't say anything, the professors won't know."
"We won't say anything," Harry said at once.
"Course we won't," Ron added, then frowned. "But Hermione might. She sounded like she wanted to march straight to the professors earlier."
Tyler shook his head. "Hermione talks sharply, but she isn't the sort to tattle just to hurt someone. She'll scold us, definitely. She may even quote school rules at us until our ears fall off, but she won't betray us for no reason."
Ron did not look entirely convinced, but he let the matter drop. Hermione's tone still bothered him, especially the way she had acted as though everyone else was too foolish to survive without her. Even so, Tyler sounded certain, and Ron was willing to accept that for now.
Hogsmeade Station was not far from the village, and with three professors escorting them, the students arrived safely. Professor McGonagall's shoulders eased almost imperceptibly once the platform came into view. Along the road, she had remained tense, ready for any sign of an ambush or sudden spellwork.
Professor Snape had been the same, though he showed it differently. His gaze had swept the trees, rooftops, and alleys with cold precision, his wand hidden but ready in his sleeve. Professor Sprout stayed close to the younger students, guiding stragglers forward and keeping an anxious eye on the darkening sky.
At the station, the presence of Albus Dumbledore changed the air at once. The Headmaster stood near the Hogwarts Express with Professor Flitwick beside him, calm beneath the gathering storm. No dark wizard with any sense would choose to attack openly while Dumbledore was there, and even the students seemed to understand that they had returned to safety.
"Albus," Professor McGonagall said, stepping forward. "All the students who went into Hogsmeade have been brought back. Has anything been found here?"
Professor Snape and Professor Sprout joined her, both watching Dumbledore closely. Behind them, the students gathered in uneasy clusters, trying to listen without looking as though they were listening.
"Filius and I examined the Hogwarts Express," Dumbledore said. "There is nothing wrong with the train itself. However, we found signs that a wizard supplied an enormous amount of magic to it, which caused the sudden acceleration."
Professor McGonagall's expression hardened. Professor Sprout looked troubled, and Snape's eyes narrowed as if a suspicion had just been confirmed. The wind moved across the platform, tugging at robes and making the train's steam twist sideways.
"Can you determine which wizard did it?" Snape asked.
Dumbledore looked toward the train, his face unreadable. "It could not have been one of the children. They do not possess that much magic, and the staff aboard the train are also unlikely."
Professor Flitwick nodded gravely beside him. "Such a huge amount of magic is difficult even for us professors to produce. Perhaps only a wizard of Albus's level could manage it."
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