The next morning, the students packed their trunks, finished breakfast, and headed down to the Hogwarts station.
The Hogwarts Express pulled in right on schedule, and the kids lined up to board.
Lechi dragged his trunk into a train compartment with Terry, Anthony, and Stephen, settling in for the ride home.
"Hard to believe the year is already over," Terry said, staring out the window. "Next time we're on this train, we'll be second-years."
Anthony pulled out an intricate Wizard's Chess set. "Who cares? It's just second year. We're still young, don't sweat it! An older girl from my art club gave this to me. We can use it to kill time on the trip."
Stephen pushed his glasses up his nose, eyeing the board. "Looks like you're pretty popular with the upperclassmen. That doesn't look cheap."
"It's nothing, I just know how to talk to them." Despite his casual tone, Anthony looked undeniably smug. "My dad always says: sweet talk gets your foot in the door, but genuine sincerity is the ultimate weapon!"
Lechi smiled as he watched his friends joke around. The train whistle blew, and the scenery outside the window began to blur as they picked up speed.
---
King's Cross Station, London
Students said their goodbyes and filtered out into the station to find their families.
Lechi lugged his trunk through the terminal and spotted his father, Denton, waiting alone.
"Look at you," Denton said, lowering his magazine. He looked Lechi up and down with a proud smile. "Haven't seen you in six months and you've shot right up."
Lechi took in the heavy bags under his father's eyes and the new lines on his face. "You've definitely aged, Dad."
Denton let out a heavy sigh and stood up. "Can you blame me? Your mother is six months pregnant. Do you have any idea what I've been through lately?"
Lechi shot him a look of mild pity. Your mess, your problem. Failing to get any sympathy from his son, Denton sighed again. But he didn't really care—as long as Lechi was home to draw some of his wife's fire, he might actually get to sleep through the night.
They left the station, hopped in the car, and Denton drove them out of the city. Streetlights flickered on one by one, and by the time they pulled up to their house, night had fully fallen.
9 Silver Maple Road
Lechi stepped out of the car, feeling a wave of relief at the sight of the lit windows.
Denton rolled down his window before pulling away. "Heads up, Lechi. We've got company inside tonight. Best be on your best behavior."
Lechi gave him a confused look.
"She seems to be from your neck of the woods," Denton explained, gesturing vaguely. "The magical world. But she's... odd." With that, Denton drove around back to park in the garage.
Frowning, Lechi walked up to the front door. He pulled out his wand, pointed it at the keyhole, and gave it a sharp flick.
"Alohomora."
The lock clicked, and Lechi pushed the door open.
In the living room, his mother, Mrs. Harland, was deep in an animated conversation with an older woman. The guest had graying hair tucked into a hairnet and wore a dark, heavy smock. She didn't look like a witch—she just looked like an eccentric old lady with bizarre taste.
His mother's baby bump was prominent after six months, but she looked as energetic as ever. The two women finally noticed him standing in the hallway.
"Oh, my little Lechi!" Mrs. Harland sprang up from the couch with surprising agility and closed the distance between them.
Lechi immediately tensed. A second later, her hands locked onto his face, pinching and squishing his cheeks mercilessly.
"You've gotten so tall! Thank god your face is still squishy."
After a solid minute of torture, she seemed to remember they had company and reluctantly let him go. She guided him to the living room to make introductions.
"Lechi, this is Mrs. Figg. She's a Squib, just like me. When the war broke out and I had to flee the magical world, Mrs. Figg helped me get through the hardest times. Mrs. Figg, this is my son, Lechi. Just got back from school today."
Lechi understood instantly. This was the woman who had saved his mother. "It's an honor to meet you, Mrs. Figg."
"Look how big you've gotten," Mrs. Figg smiled warmly. "I held you when you were just a baby." She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Hogwarts is on summer break now, isn't it?"
"Yes, ma'am. We just got out today."
Mrs. Figg swallowed hard. "Which means that little boy will be heading back, too."
She stood up abruptly. "It's getting late. I should be going."
"You won't stay for dinner?" Mrs. Harland asked, her face falling.
"Oh, dear, I can't. I have very important business to attend to. It's been my primary mission for years."
She gave Mrs. Harland a quick hug, but her eyes immediately snapped back to Lechi. "By the way, little Lechi... do you happen to know a boy named Harry Potter?"
Lechi was caught off guard hearing that name in his living room, but he nodded. "Yeah, I know him."
"Well, if you get the chance, you should go visit him this summer. He gets awfully lonely at his aunt's house."
She reached into her pocket, pulled out a folded slip of paper, and pressed it into his hand.
Lechi unfolded it. Written in neat handwriting was an address:
Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
Lechi raised an eyebrow. Was this Harry Potter's home address? A sneaking suspicion crept into his mind—Mrs. Figg hadn't come over just to catch up. She came specifically to hand him this note.
Mrs. Figg turned toward the hallway just as Denton walked in from the garage.
"Hey, Denton! Be a dear and drive Mrs. Figg home," Mrs. Harland called out.
Denton, who hadn't even had the chance to take his shoes off, froze. "Uh... alright."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Harland," Mrs. Figg said. The corners of her mouth twitched up into a highly unsettling smile.
Denton felt a spike of panic in his chest. He quickly reminded himself that he had seen enough weird magical nonsense in The Quibbler to handle one creepy old lady.
He spun on his heel and marched right back out the front door, though his entire body was completely rigid.