To Protect

May 30, 1993, 6:30 PM, Platform 9 3/4, England

Adam Clarke

The Hogwarts Express rumbled and swayed, its narrow corridor feeling even more cramped than usual. My trunk bumped awkwardly against the wooden paneling. Each bump left a tiny scuff mark, and I winced.

I hadn’t used a spell to make it float behind me, as we were going to move out into the Muggle world, and it was causing me no end of annoyance.

The corridor was a chaotic mess of pre-teen energy. Younger students squeezed past with oversized trunks that seemed to have a mind of their own, owl cages created a cacophony of soft hoots and rustling feathers, and the air felt stuffy and warm. Trunks tilted at impossible angles, and more than one student struggled to keep their belongings from tumbling over.

Hermione walked ahead of me, her bushy hair bouncing with each step of the train. She’d tied it back with a simple blue hair tie, but wayward curls escaped, framing her face. Her trunk moved with more care than most, carefully avoiding other luggage— typical Hermione, always precise.

Ron followed behind, his gangly twelve-year-old frame taking up more space than he seemed to realize.

“Blimey.” He muttered, trying to maneuver his long legs without knocking into anyone. “This corridor gets smaller every year.”

His freckled face was scrunched in concentration, more focused on not causing a luggage avalanche than anything else.

I couldn’t help but grin. We might have been through more than most twelve-year-olds, but we were still very much children— occasionally awkward, slightly clumsy, and completely out of our depth in so many ways.

Platform Nine and Three Quarters was a controlled chaos. Security wizards stood at strategic points, their crisp robes and alert postures a stark contrast to the emotional students streaming off the train. Parents waited in clusters, some casting nervous glances around, others trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy.

“There’s Harry and the others.” Ron said, pointing.

I followed his gaze. Harry, Tony, and Su stood near a pillar, their luggage clustered around them. They hadn’t yet been reunited with their families. Tony looked tense, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd. Su stood slightly apart, her posture rigid. Harry seemed lost in thought, the weight of the current stressful atmosphere etched into his face.

As we approached, I could feel the tension in the air. This wasn’t just a normal end-of-term reunion. This was the aftermath of a near-war, a moment suspended between relief and continued anxiety.

“Quite a welcome home.” I muttered, more to myself than to anyone else.

“So.” Ron said, his gangly twelve-year-old frame shifting. “What are everyone’s summer plans?”

Tony’s eyes sparkled, forgetting about his stress for a moment. “My dad’s been writing about taking me to a car show in Birmingham in a few weeks. He’s been restoring this classic Morris Minor, and he wants to show me how the engines work. Can you believe he knows nothing about magic but can take an entire engine apart?”

Harry gave a small, genuine smile towards Tony.

“Sounds fun.” He offered, though his own summer plans remained unspoken.

Su was scanning the platform, nervous.

“My mum should be here soon.” She said, her tone betraying a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Like Harry, she didn’t seem keen on speaking about it.

Hermione twisted a loose thread on her robe.

“We might do a local holiday.” She said, her academic mind already calculating the practical considerations. “Nothing too far, given… everything.”

Around us, the platform hummed with a mixture of relief and tension. Parents hugged their children tighter. Security wizards moved with calculated movements. We stood in the middle of it all.

“Who knows what’ll happen?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. For a moment, the forced cheerfulness dropped, and we all became suddenly aware of how little control we actually had.

The moment the words escaped my mouth, I realized how bleak they sounded. I cleared my throat, suddenly aware that my typical detachment might not be what our little group needed right now.

“But hey.” I said, forcing a brightness into my voice that felt unfamiliar. “We’ve gotten through everything else, right? Whatever comes, we’ll handle it like we always do.”

The words hung in the air— awkward, slightly forced, but genuine. My friends looked at me, surprised. Me, usually the most cynical of the group, trying to offer comfort? Ron’s eyebrows were way up there. Hermione’s lips twitched in a small, understanding smile. Harry’s shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly.

They all knew it wasn’t smooth. They could see right through my attempt. But they also recognized the effort, the intention behind the words.

“Together.” Harry repeated softly, a hint of his old confidence returning.

It wasn’t long before our parents began to surface.

Su’s mother was first, appearing like a vision— impossibly elegant, her designer coat draped perfectly, her movements so fluid they seemed almost choreographed. The moment she stepped into view, the boys went absolutely silent.

Tony, Ron, and Harry stared, their faces transforming into a symphony of teenage embarrassment and nervousness. Tony was the most obvious, his mouth hanging slightly open. Ron’s ears had turned a deep crimson, while Harry looked like he’d forgotten how to breathe. Each boy was blushing with an intensity that would have made a tomato look pale.

I didn’t blame them; she somehow looked even better than she had the last time I’d seen her, and that, in itself, was a feat.

Hermione rolled her eyes with such dramatic flair that I could almost hear her internal commentary. She caught my eye and sent a knowing look— a perfect blend of exasperation and amusement. I shrugged in response, fighting back a smile.

“Mum!”

Su rushed forward, hugging her mother with a mix of excitement and relief. Yan’s beauty was matched only by her obvious affection for her daughter, her elegant hand stroking Su’s hair with a tenderness that softened her model-like features.

“Hello, my darling.” Yan said. “Have you been waiting long?”

“No, no… It’s alright.” Su said. “I’ve had my friends keep me company.”

Yan threw us a look, and we smiled— or rather, Hermione and I smiled at her, while Ron, Harry and Tony continued their impression of deer stuck in headlights.

Moments later, Tony’s father arrived.

The man—Bartholomew— was quintessentially Muggle; dressed in practical khakis and a button-down shirt, his eyes lighting up with pure, unadulterated love when he saw his son.

“Tony!” He called, and Tony broke into a genuine, unguarded smile that transformed his careful demeanor.

Arthur and Molly Weasley approached next, flanking Hermione’s parents. The contrast was almost comical— the Weasleys in their well-worn but carefully maintained robes, Emma and Dan Granger looking like they’d just stepped out of a dental conference. Molly immediately pulled Ron into a bone-crushing hug, her maternal warmth radiating across the platform.

Dan and Emma Granger looked slightly bewildered, sensing the underlying tension but not quite understanding its source. They hugged Hermione with a careful, uncertain affection.

Finally, Sirius arrived. Unlike the other parents, he moved with a predatory grace, his eyes scanning the platform with the alertness of someone who had spent too long in survival mode. But when he saw Harry and I, his entire demeanor softened.

Harry broke away from his stunned state, moving toward Sirius with relief. “Sirius!”

“Hey, you two!” Sirius said, bracing against Harry’s tackle hug and pulling me in as well.

Sirius’s arms were strong, warm, and undeniably comforting, though I still felt a flicker of awkwardness as I allowed myself to be enveloped. I wasn’t really the group-hug type— too much closeness, too many emotions swirling at once. But something about the way Sirius held us, protective yet gentle, made it easier to let go. Just for a moment.

Harry leaned into the hug with an ease I envied. It was strange, really. He had spent so much of his life without this kind of love, yet he seemed to trust it fully. Me? I wasn’t sure how to stop bracing myself for the other shoe to drop.

Still, I nodded when Sirius asked if we were alright. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. We were alive, weren’t we?

“Where’s Remus?” Harry asked as we finally pulled apart, his voice eager but calm.

“Running errands.” Sirius replied, ruffling Harry’s perpetually messy hair with a familiar fondness. “Don’t worry; you’ll see him tonight.”

I caught the way Harry’s shoulders relaxed slightly at that. Remus was steady, dependable— a quiet anchor in the chaos we seemed to attract. Knowing he’d be there later made the looming unknowns feel just a little more manageable.

Sirius turned his attention to me next, studying my face with a sharpness that only he could manage without making it uncomfortable.

“You look like you could use some rest.” He said, his voice lighter but still tinged with mild concern.

I shrugged, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

“Maybe so.” I admitted. “But there’s a lot to think about.”

Sirius chuckled, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “There always is. But that’s what family is for— to remind you when to stop overthinking and just breathe.”

I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. He had a way of cutting through the noise in my head, even when I didn’t want him to.

“Come on, then.” Sirius said, steering us toward the barrier. “Ready to go ho—”

Before we could leave, however, the parents naturally began clustering together, their conversations pulling the group to a halt.

“Sirius, it’s been too long.” Yan said, her smooth voice carrying easily over the platform noise. She stepped forward with a polite smile, her perfect posture making everyone else look slightly less put-together in comparison.

“Yan.” Sirius replied with a nod, his tone warm but neutral. “Still managing to turn heads wherever you go, I see.”

“Some habits die hard.” She replied with a light laugh before gesturing to Su, who was practically glowing under her mother’s touch. Yan turned her gaze to Harry and I. “Thank you for looking out for Su this year.”

“No problem.” Harry and I both said.

“And that goes to all of you children.” Yan added, giving a respectful nod to all of Su’s friends. “After the attack, it must not have been easy for any of you, so thank you.”

I frowned, seeing the way Su’s shoulders shook after that statement. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach— I knew that Su had faced the people’s ire in the wake of Grindelwald’s operations, but I had thought that people wouldn’t stoop so low as to terrorize children.

Guess I was wrong…

“Of course.” Hermione said simply, her gaze flicking briefly to me and Harry. “It’s what we do.”

Molly Weasley, who had been fussing over Ron a moment ago, quickly inserted herself into the exchange. “Yan, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Molly Weasley, Ron’s mum.”

“Yan Li. A pleasure.” Yan said, offering a hand. Molly hesitated for a moment before shaking it, clearly taken aback by Yan’s poise.

“Su speaks highly of Ron.” Yan added graciously, though I caught a tiny flicker of amusement in her eyes.

“She does?” Molly asked, glancing at Ron, whose ears promptly turned beet-red.

Over by Hermione’s parents, Arthur’s fascination with all things Muggle had already launched into full swing.

“A fascinating career, dentistry.” He was saying. “So, tell me, this… dental floss— does it operate like a charm, or is it purely mechanical?”

Dan Granger blinked, clearly unsure how to respond, while Emma Granger exchanged a glance with Hermione.

“It’s… string.” Dan said slowly. “To remove food particles stuck in your teeth.”

“Ah! Ingenious simplicity.” Arthur said with genuine admiration, while Molly looked weary of the conversation.

Hermione groaned softly, her cheeks pink.

“Oh, no… They’re going to be here all evening.” She muttered to me.

“Better than the alternative.” I said, watching Sirius exchange goodbyes with Yan. “At least they’re not blowing anything up.”

Meanwhile, Tony’s father, Bartholomew, had drifted closer to the Grangers, offering them a small smile. “First time on this platform?” He asked casually.

“Second.” Emma said, looking relieved to speak with someone less… intense. “It doesn’t get less surreal.”

Bartholomew chuckled. “That’s one way to put it. At least the kids seem to handle it better than we do.”

As the parents chatted, the atmosphere on the platform began to shift. It was subtle at first— hushed murmurs, sidelong glances— but soon, the weight of unwelcome attention settled over us. Su’s mother, Yan, noticed it too, her elegant posture stiffening slightly as her gaze swept the crowd.

“They’re staring again.” Su whispered, her voice tight. Her hand clutched her mother’s sleeve, the confidence she usually carried faltering under the weight of so many eyes.

Yan tilted her chin up, her movements measured and graceful.

“Let them stare.” She said softly, though I could see the flicker of annoyance in her eyes.

The murmurs grew louder, and the gazes turned sharper. A couple near the ticket booths whispered something that made Su flinch. Words like “outsider” and “dangerous” drifted through the air, tinged with thinly veiled prejudice.

Sirius noticed immediately. His sharp eyes scanned the platform, his jaw tightening. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, his presence radiating a controlled power that made it impossible to ignore him.

“Is there a problem here?” Sirius asked loudly, his voice cutting through the growing tension.

The couple froze, their whispers dying instantly. Around us, other onlookers quickly averted their eyes, suddenly finding the floor or the nearest advertisement very interesting.

Molly Weasley, ever the mother bear, bristled at the unfolding scene.

“Honestly! Have you nothing better to do than gawk?” She demanded, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “These are children! And their families, for Merlin’s sake!”

Yan gave Molly a small, grateful nod before turning to Sirius.

“Thank you.” She said quietly, her voice steady despite the tension.

Sirius shrugged, his lips curling into a wolfish grin.

“Don’t thank me yet.” He said, casting a warning glance at the remaining gawkers. “It’s not over until they learn some manners.”

Before the situation could escalate further, the sound of boots on stone caught everyone’s attention. A small group of Ministry security officers appeared at the edge of the platform, their wands in hand and their expressions stern.

“What’s going on here?” One of the officers barked, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. The remaining onlookers scattered like startled birds, their muttering fading into silence as they disappeared through the barrier or down the train platforms.

“Nothing to worry about.” Sirius said smoothly, stepping back with a casual air. “Just some misplaced… curiosity. All handled now.”

The officer gave Sirius a wary look but nodded. “Move along, folks. Let’s keep things peaceful.”

The tension eased as the officers remained at a distance, their presence enough to dissuade any further issues.

Su leaned into her mother’s side, her grip on Yan’s sleeve relaxing slightly.

“Why does this keep happening?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Yan placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, her fingers gentle but firm.

“Because people fear what they don’t understand.” She said. “But that’s their burden, not ours.”

Sirius stepped back toward us, his expression softening as he looked at Su. “You’re safe with us.”

Su gave a small nod, her eyes shining with unshed tears. For a moment, it felt like the world around us had paused, the platform quiet save for the occasional whistle of trains in the distance.

“All right.” Sirius said, breaking the silence. “Let’s not let a few cowards ruin the day. Come on, time to head home. Ready, boys?”

With the tension finally diffused, the other parents similarly began wrapping up their conversations. Yan gave Sirius a gracious nod before turning to Su.

“Come, darling. Let’s go.” She said, her hand resting lightly on Su’s back.

“Bye, Su.” I said with a small wave. Harry and the others chimed in, their voices overlapping as Su smiled and waved back.

“Goodbye, everyone.” Su replied, her tone warm despite the earlier unease.

Tony’s dad clapped him on the shoulder, clearly eager to leave the chaos of the platform behind. “Let’s go, kiddo. I think I’ve had my fill of excitement for one day.”

Tony grinned sheepishly. “See you lot soon.”

Molly and Arthur corralled the Weasleys with practiced efficiency, their voices fading as they led Ron toward their remaining children, off in the distance. The Grangers lingered for a moment, looking awkwardly between Hermione and the rest of us before Emma finally said. “Take care, all of you.”

“You too.” Harry replied, giving them a polite nod. Hermione waved and disappeared with her parents, leaving just Sirius, Harry, and me.

“All right, boys.” Sirius said, clapping his hands together. “Time to get moving.” He rolled up his sleeves and extended his arms toward us, one for each.

“Grab on.”

I stared at him, one eyebrow arching high. “A double side-along? Isn’t that dangerous?”

Sirius smirked, his gray eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Not as dangerous as it would be if you tried it yourself. Besides.” He added, his grin widening. “What’s the worst that could happen? You lose a nose? Maybe a leg? Builds character.”

Harry snorted, clearly used to Sirius’s sense of humor by now, and grabbed hold of his arm without hesitation.

I crossed my arms and stared at him. “That’s supposed to reassure me?”

“Absolutely.” Sirius replied cheerfully, his tone completely unserious. “Now quit stalling, or I’ll have to drag you along without your permission.”

Rolling my eyes, I finally took hold of his other arm. “If I come out of this missing anything, you’re the one explaining it to Remus.”

“Deal.” Sirius said with a wink.

And with a sharp crack, the platform disappeared, replaced by the spinning, squeezing sensation of Apparition.

oooo

The familiar gloom of Grimmauld Place’s drawing room surrounded us as we landed with a soft pop. The heavy, dark curtains and intricate woodwork felt oddly comforting after the chaos of King’s Cross. Harry, Sirius, and I all let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Home, sweet home.” Sirius said, brushing off his sleeves with exaggerated flair. “All right, boys. I’ll sort out your luggage and get it to your rooms. You both deserve a bit of a break before dinner.”

Harry hesitated. “Need any help?”

Sirius shook his head, ruffling Harry’s hair with a grin. “Nice try, but you’ve done enough for one day. Go take a load off.”

Harry didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded. “I’ll hang around down here with you for a bit, then.”

Sirius gave him a knowing smile. “Suit yourself. Just don’t rearrange the furniture. I want you relaxing, kid.”

“Sounds good to me!”

I didn’t bother to argue. Sirius seemed set on giving us space, and I wasn’t about to turn down the chance to breathe after everything. With a small nod, I headed up the creaky stairs to my room.

Once inside, I closed the door behind me, the quiet of the house settling like a blanket over my thoughts. My room was just as I’d left it— dimly lit but familiar, with a few personal touches that made it mine as well as stacks of parchment that looked like they’ve been undisturbed for the whole year.

I shrugged off my robe, folding it absentmindedly and laying it on the bed before sitting beside it. My mind felt like a stormy sea, waves of thoughts and memories crashing together, refusing to settle.

Everything from the past few weeks rushed in at once— the chaos of the battle against Grindelwald’s forces, the eerie hostility at King’s Cross, and the strange mix of hope and uncertainty that lingered now.

My hand traced the stitching on the bedspread as I let myself sit with it all, not trying to solve or dismiss anything, just… thinking.

Moments from the Forbidden Forest flickered behind my eyes: the chittering legion of Acromantula, Aragog’s massive form rising like a living nightmare, the desperate rescue of creatures torn from their homes.

Each memory was a fragment, sharp-edged and luminous, refusing to be neatly categorized or forgotten.

The battle had been a storm— Castelobruxo wizards prowling like predators in the forest, magical creatures caught in a web of conflict they never asked to be part of. And beneath it all, the deeper current of Grindelwald’s machinations, a foreign will waiting to breach the surface.

My breath settled into a quiet rhythm, matching the house’s own subdued murmur. Grimmauld Place held its own memories, its walls thick with unspoken histories. Here, in this momentary stillness, the adrenaline of battle began to ebb, leaving behind a complex sediment of emotion— triumph mingled with uncertainty, relief tangled with an underlying sense of unresolved tension.

Outside the window, London’s twilight gathered, soft and uncertain, much like the emotions pooling within me. I shook my head and reached into my pack, pulling my journal out before laying it on my desk.

Taking a seat on the well-worn chair, my fingers hovered over the blank page, tracing patterns. The concerns within me were like a tangled web— each thread connected, yet impossible to unravel in a single moment.

Grindelwald’s silent hunt for powerful relics, the ominous quiet surrounding Voldemort’s resurrection, the political fractures spreading across the magical world; all of these things pressed against the edges of my consciousness like gathering storm clouds.

I uncapped my pen, the metal cool against my skin. The first line would be the hardest.

Current Situation: SNAFU

The words were slowly put to paper. Each letter was a deliberate act of trying to bring order to chaos:

“The MACUSA’s fall isn’t just a political event— it’s a seismic shift, Ilvermorny’s displacement a symptom of a deeper instability spreading like a quiet infection through the magical world.

Grindelwald’s stolen relics— what and where are they?“

The question hung in the air, substantial as morning mist. A portal to the Abyss, a realm between life and death. Not just a magical event, but a fundamental disruption of boundaries humanity had long respected.

And Voldemort…

That man’s silence was more terrifying than any proclamation. He was like a predator waiting, calculating. Moreover, the Blackthorn letter remained untouched, a sealed promise of potential revelation. Not yet. Not now.

My pen moved a mite faster now, capturing fragments of observation, speculation threading between fact and intuition. Outside, London’s evening settled— soft, noncommittal, holding its own secrets.

The silence of Grimmauld Place seemed to hold its breath as my thoughts crystallized. My pen rolled across the journal’s surface, forgotten, while something deeper stirred within me— a resolve taking shape like mist condensing into form.

“Kreacher.” I called softly.

The House Elf materialized with a subtle pop, ancient eyes catching the twilight’s subdued glow. Something in my posture— the set of my shoulders, the intensity gathering behind my eyes— spoke of more than a casual summons, and Kreacher seemed to notice; his ears twitched, sensing the weight of potential purpose.

“I will be relying on you.” I said, my voice quiet but steady. Each word carried the deliberate weight of a promise. “For our family. For defeating Regulus’ foe and any other threats gathering at the family’s borders.”

Kreacher’s ears rose like signal flags, catching every nuanced intention.

The silence stretched between us, laden with unspoken understanding. Kreacher’s weathered features softened, ancient eyes gleaming with a loyalty that transcended generations.

“Master Adam will have Kreacher at his complete disposal.” The House Elf intoned, his voice a whisper of devotion and resolve.

A soft pop, and Kreacher vanished— leaving behind a moment of anticipation that hung in the air like suspended breath.

Another pop.

I turned, and there— beside my journal stood a glass of orange juice. Condensation pearled along its surface, catching the last amber threads of twilight filtering through the window. A simple offering, yet so laden with meaning.

I smiled.

The glass seemed to hold more than just juice; it was a promise, a silent covenant. The house around me breathed— wood settling, memories whispering, the very walls holding their collective breath.

Everything felt suspended, waiting. Not for something to happen, but for something to begin.

My fingers closed around the glass, cool against my palm. The first step, I knew, was always the quietest.

The letter from the Blackthorns lay folded, unassuming, against the fabric of my robe. My gaze lingered on the letter, a tactile memory of its weight.

Not tonight. I would look at it soon. Tonight, I was going to relax with Sirius, Remus and Harry.

The thought settled into me like a warm current, displacing the isolating currents of recent weeks. There were people here. People I would throw my life down to protect.

“Come what may…” I said and took a sip.