Professor Flitwick's words left the other professors silent. If the magic forced into the Hogwarts Express had been powerful enough to overwhelm the train's normal enchantments, then there were very few wizards in Britain who could have done it. Aside from Dumbledore himself, only a handful of names came to mind, and one of those names was still difficult for many people to say aloud.
"Could it have been him?" Professor McGonagall asked at last, her voice strained. "Could this be the work of You-Know-Who?"
The question made the air around them tighten. Since Voldemort's disappearance, the wizarding world had enjoyed years of uneasy peace, but no one who had survived the last war truly believed fear could vanish so easily. If he was returning now, and if his first move had been to target the Hogwarts Express, then the peace they had known was already cracking.
"No," Dumbledore said quietly. "Not him."
He did not say it to comfort them. He had paid close attention to every whisper and shadow connected to Voldemort, and he knew the Dark Lord had not yet recovered enough to act so openly. What remained of him was still little more than a wounded remnant, dangerous in intent but far from restored in strength.
The person Dumbledore was truly considering was the dark wizard who had appeared in Diagon Alley and vanished just as suddenly. Since that day, there had been no reliable trace of him at all. The Ministry's Aurors had searched across Britain, following rumours, old safe houses, and suspected routes, yet every lead had dissolved into nothing.
Many now believed the unknown wizard had left the country entirely. The Ministry's search had gradually quieted, the panic fading beneath paperwork and public reassurance. Dumbledore, however, was not so easily satisfied.
For a time, he had even considered the possibility that Gellert Grindelwald had escaped from Nurmengard. The power, the presence, and the unsettling mystery all seemed to point toward someone of that level. But reports from Nurmengard confirmed that Grindelwald remained imprisoned there, leaving the dark wizard as something even more troubling: a figure with no past, no trail, and no clear name.
"Albus," Professor McGonagall said, pulling the discussion back to the platform, "we should return the students to Hogwarts as soon as possible. Whatever is happening outside, the castle is safer than the station or the village."
Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout both nodded. If there truly was a dark wizard involved, the students would be helpless against him in the open. Hogwarts Castle, with its wards, protections, and centuries of magic, was the one place they could reasonably defend.
"Very well," Dumbledore said. "We'll send the students back to Hogwarts first."
On the other side of the platform, Tyler and the others had finally found Hermione and Neville. After being unconscious for so long, Neville had woken up, though he still looked pale and shaken. He sat near the station wall with Trevor clutched in both hands, as if the toad were the only solid thing left in the world.
"Neville, you're awake," Tyler said, crouching slightly to look at him. "Are you all right?"
"Thank you for asking," Neville said softly. "I think I'm fine."
He did not look fine, but he was trying. When he had opened his eyes earlier and found the platform nearly empty, fright had almost overwhelmed him all over again. For one awful moment, he had thought everyone had left him behind.
Hermione had been there, however. She had explained what happened, though her explanation included a great deal of anger directed at Tyler, Jamie, Harry, Ron, and nearly every other student who had run off to Hogsmeade. Even so, Neville had been grateful. Without her, he might have burst into tears before he managed to understand where everyone had gone.
"Hermione, Neville, do you want some sweets?" Tyler asked, reaching into the small enchanted pouch at his waist. He pulled out a large bag packed with Honeydukes treats, the wrappers bright against the grey light of the station. "We bought these in Hogsmeade."
"Give Neville some chocolate," Jamie said. "It should help."
He took a large piece from the bag and handed it to Neville, who accepted it with both hands. "Thank you," Neville whispered.
His eyes grew wet almost immediately. It was not just the chocolate. It was the simple fact that someone had thought of him, spoken gently to him, and offered him something without impatience or disappointment.
Neville Longbottom had not had an easy childhood. His parents, Frank and Alice Longbottom, had been tortured into insanity with the Cruciatus Curse by Death Eaters and still lived in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. His grandmother loved him, but she was stern, forceful, and forever measuring him against the brave son she had lost, and that weight had pressed Neville into the timid boy standing before them now.
"It'll be all right," Jamie said, patting Neville's shoulder.
Neville nodded quickly and wiped at his eyes, trying not to cry harder. He took a small bite of the chocolate, and some colour slowly returned to his face.
"Hermione," Tyler said, holding the bag toward her with a coaxing smile, "are you sure you don't want anything? There are Honeydukes sweets, liquorice wands, toffees, and even Cockroach Clusters."
"No, thank you," Hermione said stiffly.
She turned her face away, still visibly angry. Her cheeks were puffed slightly with irritation, and she refused to look directly at Tyler as if eye contact might weaken her resolve. The fact that everyone had returned safely did not make their behaviour acceptable in her mind.
"What a shame," Tyler said lightly. "Such delicious sweets, and no one wants them."
Ron immediately looked as though he very much wanted them. Tyler laughed and handed him a few pieces, then gave some to Harry as well. Candy, in Tyler's opinion, was useful in almost every situation, especially after train disasters, rule-breaking, and near lectures from Professor McGonagall.
"Thanks," Ron said, already unwrapping a honey toffee and stuffing it into his mouth.
Harry had a harder time. Both of his hands were full of shopping bags from Hogsmeade, and he looked helplessly between the sweets and his parcels. Tyler noticed, picked out a piece of toffee, and held it up.
"Harry, open your mouth."
Harry obeyed without thinking, and Tyler popped the toffee in. "Thanks," Harry said around the sweet, his words thick and muffled.
"Speaking of sweets," Tyler said, pulling out a small jar filled with cockroach-shaped candies, "have you ever tried Cockroach Clusters?"
Inside the glass, the glossy little sweets twitched and crawled like real insects. Their legs scratched faintly against the jar, and the sight was enough to make Ron recoil at once.
"Tyler, you actually bought those?" Ron said, grimacing. "They're disgusting."
Harry shook his head immediately. He had seen plenty of real cockroaches crawling around Aunt Petunia's kitchen, and the memory did nothing to make the sweets more appealing. Even if they were magical candy, they looked far too much like something Dudley would have dared him to eat.
"You should try one," Jamie encouraged. "They look awful, but the taste isn't bad. You have to try everything at least once."
Harry and Ron hesitated. Then Tyler and Jamie each took a Cockroach Cluster and put it into their mouths without the slightest sign of fear. That made refusing feel rather cowardly, so Ron reluctantly picked one up, and Harry followed a moment later.
"It's moving in my mouth," Ron said in horror, his expression twisting.
Harry felt the same unpleasant crawling sensation and immediately bit down before he could change his mind. The shell cracked between his teeth, and a strong, bitter fragrance spread across his tongue. It was not foul at all, just unexpectedly rich and coffee-like.
"So Cockroach Clusters are coffee-flavoured," Harry said, surprised.
"They still look horrible," Ron muttered, though he kept chewing. "No sweet should have legs."
"The first-year students will remain here," Professor McGonagall's voice suddenly called across the platform. "All other students are to take the carriages back to Hogwarts. The carriages are waiting."
The older students began moving toward the road, where the Hogwarts carriages stood in neat rows. They appeared to be pulling themselves, though in truth they were drawn by Thestrals, creatures visible only to those who had witnessed death and understood it. To most of the students, the carriages simply waited empty and strange, ready to carry them to the castle.
"Hagrid!" Professor McGonagall called, looking around the station with growing impatience. "Where is Hagrid? Has he still not arrived?"
"I'm comin', I'm comin'!" a booming voice shouted from the distance. "Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I'm late!"
.....
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