Early in the morning, Mrs.
Weasley’s roars echoed continuously through the Burrow.
“Percy!
Percy!
Where are your robes and cauldron?
And what is this bag stuffed full of letters?
Clean them up!”
“Fred!
George!
How many times do I have to tell you!
You are not taking those bizarre sweets to school, get rid of them all!”
“Ron!
What time do you think it is?
Get out of bed!
Double-check your trunk, and if I don’t see you downstairs in five minutes, I’ll toss you into the pond, lock you in the cellar, and you can forget about going to Hogwarts!”
“Merlin’s beard, you’re going to drive me to an early grave one of these days!”
“You really should learn from Vaughn.
He packed his things two days early.
Not only did he pack his school supplies, but also a pile of potions and ingredients—and he works so hard…”
Molly wiped the corner of her eyes, but in the next moment, her eyes caught something, and she waved her wand in a fury: “*Accio Scabbers!*”
A fat rat flew in from outside, squealing and shrieking.
She snatched it out of the air with a meaty hand, and its legs went stiff with a sharp squeak.
“Ronald Weasley!
Where on earth are your eyes?
You can’t even keep track of your own rat…
Oh, Fruit Tea, my sweet little darling.
If I hadn’t seen you chasing after it, we almost would have lost it.
Come here, Mama has some dried fish for you~”
“Meow~”
The chaotic, frantic scene dragged on for over two hours.
Only after Molly double-checked and triple-checked everything, ensuring everyone had all their belongings, did a car horn honk outside.
Molly led the way, helping Vaughn carry his trunk of potion ingredients, with her other sons trailing behind.
Stepping out the door, they saw a car parked on the clearing in front of the house.
Arthur Weasley stood before it, patting its roof proudly.
“Get in, children!
Dad is taking you to the station today the Muggle way!”
A normal car, of course, couldn’t possibly hold so many people.
But as a wizard—even one working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office—you could hardly expect Arthur to play by the rules.
There was a shed next to the Burrow specifically for parking it.
All summer, Arthur had been trying to magically modify it.
Occasionally, when Vaughn, Fred, and George had nothing better to do, they would help him out.
Both the passenger cabin and the trunk had been enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, making the interior space massive.
Arthur had even attempted to make it fly, but that wasn’t quite finished yet.
The family loaded their luggage into the spacious trunk and piled into the car in a noisy, chaotic rush.
Throughout it all, Molly’s yelling barely paused—the mischievous Fred and George were roughhousing; Percy, who was throwing a tantrum, had his letters thrown away by their mother; and Ron was kicking his feet, clutching Scabbers tightly while shouting at Fruit Tea to go away.
Just about every other second, one of them could be heard yelping in pain as Molly pinched their ears.
Arthur was completely blind and deaf to all of this.
He excitedly turned the key, starting the car while consulting an instruction manual and a map.
Vaughn sat in the passenger seat, completely speechless.
“Dad, do you actually know how to drive this?”
“Of course, of course I do!
I’ve practiced for at least three days…
Oh, Vaughn, help your father see what this means.
Clutch?
Do I let go?
Gear shift?
How do I adjust it?
Oho—unbelievable, those marvelous Muggles!”
Ten minutes later, the car had traveled less than fifty meters…
Unable to bear it any longer, Vaughn kicked him out of the driver’s seat.
After casting a Muggle-Repelling Charm on the car, Vaughn got behind the wheel himself.
Though his fun had been snatched away by his son, Arthur, ever the big kid, didn’t mind in the slightest.
“That’s my boy, the genius of the Weasley family!
Dad knew you liked Muggle things too.
Don’t worry, son, when you come home for the holidays, Dad will definitely have learned how to drive.
Then I’ll take you…
what do Muggles call it again?
Right!
A joyride!”
Vaughn rolled his eyes at him.
The car sped along.
Under the influence of the Muggle-Repelling Charm, they weren’t stopped by traffic police, but it was still half past ten by the time they rushed into King’s Cross Station.
The family piled out in another chaotic rush, squeezing into the station and searching for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters amidst the dense, bustling crowd.
Percy, who had been in a terrible mood ever since his letters were thrown away, complained as he was jostled, “Too many Muggles!”
“Silly boy, this is a Muggle station.
Of course there are many Muggles.”
“Over there!
The third pillar!” Ginny, sitting on her father’s shoulders, spotted the target with her sharp eyes.
The family quickly squeezed their way over.
“Percy, you go first…
excellent.
Fred, your turn!”
“I’m George, Mum!”
“Oh—sorry, darling, Mum got you mixed up.”
The twins smirked, and “George” playfully nudged his face against his mother’s.
“Actually, I’m Fred, haha—”
Laughing all the way, he pushed his trolley and charged right through.
Trailing behind Molly and Arthur, Vaughn looked around England’s oldest station.
This was his first time here, and to be honest, he was a little disappointed.
Perhaps because it was built so long ago, the facilities were outdated and run-down in many places.
Only the grand arched roof retained a trace of its former glory.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure surreptitiously following them, pushing a trolley piled high with luggage and an owl cage.
It was a young boy, seemingly malnourished, short and skinny, wearing a pair of broken glasses and looking rather dazed.
Compared to him, Ron—the family’s usual punching bag—seemed practically tall, sturdy, clever, and lively!
The boy noticed Vaughn looking at him and stood frozen, looking helpless.
He seemed to want to approach but didn’t dare.
He nervously wiped the sweat from his forehead, revealing a lightning-shaped scar.
The instant he saw the scar, Vaughn knew exactly who this goofy kid was—Harry Potter!
The legendary Boy Who Lived.
“Quick, Vaughn, you go before Ron…
oh—” Molly, turning back to call Vaughn, spotted Harry Potter as well.
Of course, his scar was now covered by his hair, so she didn’t recognize him.
But a lonely child like this instantly triggered Molly’s maternal instincts.
She quickly waved Harry over.
“Dear, are you a first-year too?”
“Y—yes, ma’am,” Harry said, nervously rubbing his hands on his trousers.
“Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, ma’am…
I don’t know where it is or how to get in…”
“Don’t you worry, dear.
Look here, the third pillar between platforms nine and ten.
There’s a ticket barrier there.
Just push your trolley and run straight at it.”
Harry, following her instructions in a daze, closed his eyes, trembling as if charging to his doom, and sprinted straight at the barrier—then vanished.
Vaughn followed close behind at a light jog.
With no resistance and barely any sensation, his vision merely flickered dark for a split second.
When it brightened again, he saw a scarlet steam engine parked alongside a platform packed with passengers.
Hanging on the side of the train carriage was a sign that read:
[Hogwarts Express]