Chapter 158: Finally!
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The mood in the compartment lightened considerably after the brief moment of shock, with even Hermione managing a smile, though she still seemed a tad concerned about the potential for magical mischief. "I suppose this means we should all be careful not to get on Harry's bad side," she remarked, half-joking, half-serious.
Neville, now somewhat relieved, added, "Or at least make sure we're in his good graces enough to get our parts back if they go missing."
As laughter filled the compartment, Harry shook his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well, as I've mentioned before, if you're eager to learn from me, you might as well be prepared to lose an arm or a leg. I assure you, I'll return them by the end of the day... or will I?" The playful threat, coupled with his recent demonstration on Tracey, added a layer of excitement and a touch of apprehension about what it meant to be under Harry's tutelage.
The compartment burst into a fresh round of laughter, the tension from Harry's prank dissipating into the warm air filled with the promise of summer adventures. Hermione, shaking her head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, quipped, "Honestly, Harry, you should give lessons on how to keep one's limbs intact before starting any advanced magic."
Amid their chatter, the train continued its steady journey through the countryside, the scenery outside a blur of greens and browns. Inside, the atmosphere was a cozy bubble of laughter and shared anticipation for the months ahead. Pansy, still a bit ruffled from being the brunt of Harry's earlier spell, regained her composure and joined in the conversation, her interest piqued by the talk of summer plans.
As the Hogwarts Express finally pulled into King's Cross Station, marking the end of another term at Hogwarts, Harry, surrounded by his friends, stepped off the train into the bustling atmosphere of the platform. Unlike his usual rush to leave, Harry took his time, embracing each of his friends in turn, ensuring them that they would stay in contact over the summer. The promise of letters and plans for possible meet-ups filled the air with a sense of anticipation for the months ahead.
While making their way through the throng of families and students, Harry spotted a few acquaintances and paused to exchange a few words, sharing laughs and recollections of the year past. It wasn't long before Cedric Diggory made his way over, the friendly rivalry between them as palpable as ever. "Promise me a rematch next year, Harry. I'll be practicing all summer," Cedric said with a competitive glint in his eye, extending his hand.
Harry shook it firmly, a grin spreading across his face. "You've got it, Cedric. Just make sure you're ready; I won't be going easy on you," he replied, the friendly banter between them a testament to the respect they held for one another on the Quidditch field.
Cho Chang approached him with a warm smile, her arms open in a friendly embrace. "I'll miss our Quidditch talks, Harry," she said, her voice tinged with genuine affection. "Make sure you keep practicing."
Harry returned the hug with a light chuckle, "Don't worry, Cho. I plan to spend quite a bit of time on my broom this summer. We'll have plenty to talk about when we get back."
Their farewell was brief but filled with the unspoken promise of reunions on the Quidditch pitch. As they parted ways, Ron Weasley, along with the twins Fred and George, appeared, their mother Molly and sister Ginny in tow. Ginny's eyes were wide with a mix of awe and curiosity at the sight of Harry.
Harry greeted them with his usual politeness, especially mindful of Molly's kindness over the year. "Thank you again for the Christmas present, Mrs. Weasley. It really meant a lot to me," he said, his gratitude evident in his tone.
Molly beamed at him, her maternal warmth radiating. "Oh, it's nothing, dear. Just make sure you come visit us over the summer, alright?" Harry nodded, promising to try, before gently steering the conversation towards goodbyes.
After bidding farewell to his friends and the cacophony of goodbyes had settled, Harry spotted Selena Rosier making her way toward him, a vision of elegance and grace. Her approach was smooth, with a smile that could light up the dimmest corridors of Hogwarts. As she drew closer, she wrapped Harry in a warm embrace, her demeanor reflecting a blend of respect and fondness. "We must stay in touch, Harry," she said softly, her voice laced with sincerity.
Harry, returning the hug with a gentle pat on her back, couldn't help but smile. "Absolutely. After all, you still owe me one," he teased, his tone playful yet pointed.
Selena's smile took on a teasing curve. "I believe allowing your clever ploy to proceed unchallenged has settled our accounts, Harry. Making our fellow Slytherins bow, was it not worth the favor?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
Harry, feigning disappointment, sighed dramatically. "Suppose it was worth it," he conceded, a mock sorrow in his voice that quickly gave way to shared laughter. After a moment more of conversation, filled with promises of future projects and mutual support, Selena departed.
Upon disembarking from the Hogwarts Express, Harry's gaze swiftly located Aunt Petunia, who seemed unusually animated, a stark contrast to her usual reserved demeanor. As he made his way through the crowd, her excitement was unmistakable; she rushed towards him, a display of affection he gotten used to. "I've missed you, Harry," she exclaimed, her voice carrying a genuine warmth as she wrapped him in a hug.
Harry returned the embrace, a smile spreading across his face. "I've missed you too, Aunt Petunia," he responded, feeling a comforting sense of belonging As they stepped away from the bustling platform, the conversation flowed naturally between them, with Petunia inquiring about his second term and his academic performance with a keen interest that Harry found both amusing and heartwarming.
"The term was great, actually. Managed to top most of my classes again," Harry shared, keeping the tone light and breezy, hoping to convey the excitement of his achievements without delving too deep into the specifics.
Petunia's eyes lit up with pride, a clear sign of her genuine interest in Harry's accomplishments. "That's wonderful to hear, Harry. You've always been a bright boy," she said, her voice carrying a hint of pride.
As they stepped outside into the brisk air of the platform, Harry followed Aunt Petunia to a car parked at the side. His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of a Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow. "You bought this?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
Petunia nodded, a smile spreading across her face. "Yes, I did," she replied, her tone filled with a mix of pride and a hint of defiance. She had always admired this particular model, but Vernon had often dismissed her, claiming she knew nothing about cars. After Vernon and Dudley had left, finances had been tight, but now, with her business flourishing, Petunia could finally afford the luxury she had long desired.
As they settled into the plush seats of the Rolls-Royce, Harry inspected the interior of the car. The drive home was filled with conversations about school, Petunia's business, and their plans for the summer. The air between them was light and filled with an ease.
"You must have worked hard for this, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, admiring the car's interior.
Petunia smiled, her eyes softening. "I did, Harry. But it was worth it. It's nice to treat ourselves once in a while, isn't it?"
Harry nodded in agreement, his thoughts drifting. Nigel, seizing the moment, piped up, "Fancy car for a fancy lady. And here I thought you'd be more excited about broomsticks than cars, Master Harry."
Harry stifled a chuckle. "I appreciate good craftsmanship in all forms, Nigel," he replied silently, a twinkle in his eye.
As they arrived at the Dursley residence, an unexpected sight greeted them. A man of distinguished appearance stood patiently at the doorstep. His aura emitted an unmistakable vibe of power and mystery that set Harry on edge immediately. Without hesitating, Harry surreptitiously used Observe.
[System Message: Nicolas Flamel? – Alchemist, creator of the Philosopher's Stone. No malicious intent detected.]
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