The morning of September 1st started way too early.
"Ethan!" Mom's voice echoed from downstairs, already at full-on panic mode. "Do you have everything? Robes? Wand? Books?"
"YES!" I yelled back, dragging my trunk toward the stairs with Solara's cage balanced precariously on top.
"Did you pack enough socks?"
"…Yes, Mom."
"Do you have your potion kit?"
"Yes."
"Toothbrush?"
"…Mom."
"Just checking!"
By the time I got downstairs, Dad was already by the door, checking his watch like we were running late for a board meeting.
"Okay, okay," he muttered. "We've got twenty minutes to get there, fifteen to find this 'platform,' and—"
"Dad, we'll be fine," I said, trying not to roll my eyes.
"Fine?" Dad's eyes narrowed. "We're walking through a solid wall, Ethan. How is that fine?"
"Magic, Dad."
"…Still not used to that."
Solara chirped from her cage, clearly amused.
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered under my breath. "Laugh it up."
Dad had double-checked my train ticket and the Gringotts key so many times I was surprised they hadn't spontaneously combusted. Meanwhile, Mom had repacked my trunk at least three times, and she was still hovering.
"Are you sure you packed enough socks?" she asked, eyeing my trunk like it might be hiding state secrets.
"Mom…"
"Better safe than sorry!"
Solara, perched calmly in her cage, watched all this with her usual unimpressed expression. Her feathers shimmered softly in the morning light, the faint golden glow a subtle reminder of the power she was connected to.
"Maybe I should've packed flameproof clothes," I muttered.
King's Cross Station was a chaotic mess of travelers, luggage, and announcements echoing from the overhead speakers.
Dad navigated the crowd like a man on a mission, while Mom kept a death grip on my arm as if I might disappear into the throng of people.
"Platform nine…" Dad murmured, scanning the signs.
"Platform ten…"
And then—
"Here."
We stood between Platforms 9 and 10.
"So…" Dad blinked at the brick wall. "Where's… the platform?"
"Walk through it," I said, my voice only slightly nervous.
"Walk through it?" Dad echoed, his eyes narrowing. "That's the plan?"
"Yup."
"Into solid brick."
"Pretty much."
Dad rubbed his temples. "This is insane."
"Totally," I agreed.
"…Alright then."
Mom looked ready to pass out.
"Just watch," I said, taking a deep breath.
I squared my shoulders, focused on the barrier… and walked straight at it.
The brick wall rushed toward me—
And then I was through.
I stumbled slightly as I emerged onto Platform 9¾, and—
Whoa.
The platform was bustling with witches and wizards, children hugging their families, cats darting between trunks, and the gleaming scarlet steam engine of the Hogwarts Express dominating the scene. Smoke curled lazily from the engine, and the air buzzed with excitement.
"Whoa…"
A second later, I heard a thump behind me.
"Okay," Dad muttered, stumbling through the barrier with wide eyes. "I did not like that."
Mom followed close behind, looking equal parts awed and freaked out.
"Oh my…" she whispered, her eyes scanning the platform. "This is… incredible."
"Welcome to Platform 9¾," I said, grinning.
Dad blinked at the train.
"…That's a steam engine."
"Yep."
"Why is it a steam engine?"
"Because it's magic?"
Dad was still not convinced.
"Okay," Mom said, trying to hold it together. "You've got everything, right? Robes, wand, books…"
"Mom," I sighed.
"I just—" Her voice cracked. "You're going so far away…"
"Mom, I'll be fine," I said, trying not to get emotional.
"You write every week, young man," she said, her eyes already misting.
"I will."
"And—"
"Mom…"
She hugged me so tightly I could barely breathe.
"Stay safe," she murmured.
"I will."
When she finally let go, Dad stepped forward.
"Alright, buddy," he said, his voice softer than usual. "You got this."
"Thanks, Dad."
"And, uh…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "No… explosions."
"I'll try," I muttered.
"Good enough," Dad said with a small smile, pulling me in for a quick hug.
Solara chirped from her cage, clearly getting impatient.
"Alright, alright," I muttered. "Let's do this."
I dragged my trunk toward the train, maneuvering through the crowd as Solara's sharp eyes scanned the chaos around us. Her feathers shimmered brighter as if sensing my excitement—or maybe she was just showing off.
"Don't scare the other kids," I murmured under my breath.
She gave me an innocent chirp. I wasn't convinced.
The train was already filling up, and I barely managed to find an empty compartment near the back. I shoved my trunk under the seat, settled Solara's cage beside me, and finally…
"Whew," I muttered. "Made it."
The compartment door suddenly slid open.
"Mind if I sit here?"
I looked up and froze.
There, standing in the doorway, was a girl about my age with striking green eyes and messy black hair that refused to be tamed. She had a lightning-shaped scar on her forehead, partially hidden behind her bangs.
My brain stalled.
No.
No way.
A girl… with a lightning-shaped scar?
Wait.
This can't be…
A female version of Harry Potter?
But… that's impossible.
"Uh… sure," I mumbled, scooting over automatically.
"Thanks," she said softly, dragging her trunk inside and giving me a small smile.
I blinked, staring at her.
What?
This is…
"Ethan Carter," I said, trying to keep my voice steady while my mind was screaming.
"Rose," she said, almost shyly. "Rose Potter."
My jaw almost hit the floor.
Potter.
Rose… Potter.
Not Harry.
THE GIRL WHO LIVED?!
I blinked again, processing the words as if they were in an alien language.
"You're… Rose Potter?" I asked, my voice a little higher than usual.
Her smile faltered.
"Yeah," she said, glancing away, her fingers playing with the hem of her sleeve. "Is that… weird?"
Weird?
Try mind-blowing.
"Uh…" My brain short-circuited. "No! I mean—uh, it's just… I thought… I mean, I read…"
Shut up, Ethan. You sound like an idiot.
Rose gave me a curious look, but there was a guardedness in her eyes now.
"I just… I thought it was… um… someone else," I mumbled, trying to recover.
Her expression softened a little.
"Yeah," she murmured. "A lot of people expect… someone else."
I didn't know what to say to that.
Holy crap. The Chosen One is sitting right next to me.
"Nice to meet you," I said, somehow managing not to sound completely awestruck.
"Nice to meet you too," she said, her smile returning—though it was a little more hesitant this time.
We had just settled into a comfortable rhythm, talking about Hogwarts and our excitement (and mild panic) about starting school when the compartment door slid open again.
"Mind if I join you?"
A red-haired boy stood in the doorway, looking slightly out of breath and dragging his trunk behind him. His robes were already slightly rumpled, and he had smudges of chocolate on his fingers.
"Everywhere else is full," he added quickly.
"Sure," Rose said, her voice polite but neutral.
"Thanks!" He flopped down onto the seat across from us, his trunk making a loud thump as he shoved it under the seat.
"I'm Ron," he said, grinning and immediately reaching into his pocket. "Ron Weasley."
"Rose," she said with a small, polite smile.
"Ethan," I added, giving him a nod.
And that's when it happened.
Ron's grin froze.
"Wait." His eyes widened as he stared at Rose.
"No way."
His jaw practically hit the floor.
"You're… her."
Rose blinked, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Her?" she echoed.
"Rose Potter!" Ron practically squeaked. "The Girl Who Lived!"
Oh boy.
"I… yeah," Rose murmured, her smile growing tighter.
"Blimey," Ron breathed, his eyes wide with awe. "My mum's told me all about you! Everyone has! You're—well—you know—you're Rose Potter!"
"Uh… yeah." Rose glanced at me, her expression practically screaming help me.
"Wow," Ron said, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. "I never thought I'd meet you! Mum's always saying how amazing you must be. You defeated You-Know-Who when you were just a baby! That's brilliant!"
Rose gave him a small, awkward smile. "Thanks…"
Ron didn't seem to notice her discomfort.
"Fred and George are gonna flip when they hear about this," he said, his grin wide. "They'll be so jealous I met you on the train!"
I shifted uncomfortably, catching Rose's eye again. Her polite smile was starting to look a little strained.
Okay. This was getting… weird.
"So… uh…" I cleared my throat, trying to break the awkwardness. "First year too, Ron?"
"Yeah," Ron said, finally tearing his eyes away from Rose long enough to glance at me. "Big family. Loads of brothers. All wizards."
"Cool," I said, nodding, though I couldn't help but notice his eyes kept drifting back to Rose every few seconds.
"Bet you'll be in Gryffindor," Ron added, directing the comment toward Rose with an almost reverent look.
"Uh… maybe," she said, her tone less enthusiastic than before.
I glanced at Solara, who gave me a pointed look as if saying, This is going to be a long train ride.
Yeah.
I had a feeling she was absolutely right.
Rose shifted uncomfortably, and I made a mental note.
Ron Weasley might be nice… but if he didn't stop fangirling over Rose soon, this was going to get awkward fast.
And I was pretty sure awkward was only the beginning.