The early morning sun cast a warm glow over the quiet suburban street in Cambridge, its rays filtering through the leaves of the well-manicured trees that lined the sidewalks. The neighborhood was a picture of tranquility, with neatly trimmed lawns and picturesque houses that seemed to embody the very essence of suburban living.

Inside one of the houses, which served as a base of operations for a group of CIA agents, the atmosphere was tense.

Michael stood by the window with his broad shoulders filling out his plain white t-shirt. His close-cropped hair and chiseled jaw gave him a rugged, no-nonsense appearance. He stared out at the street with his brow furrowed as he watched a jogger pass by, the rhythmic pounding of their feet on the pavement the only sound breaking the morning stillness.

"I don't get it, Dave," Michael said gruffly as he turned to face his teammate. "How could both the poisoned water and the nerve gas fail? This Harry Potter kid is like a damn cockroach."

David looked up from the files he had been studying at the kitchen table with his sharp, angular features set in a thoughtful expression. He ran a hand through his short, dark hair as his piercing blue eyes met Michael's gaze. "I wish I knew, Mike. It's like he's invulnerable. I can’t explain it at all…"

Sarah emerged from the bathroom, as her long, blonde hair glistened damply from her shower. She moved with the grace of a dancer, a lithe and athletic figure wrapped in a form-fitting black tank top paired with cargo pants. "Maybe he has experimental tech?" she voiced. "I see no other way he could’ve survived otherwise."

Michael snorted as his lip curled in a dismissive sneer. "What kind of experimental tech could neutralize poison and nerve gas?"

Sarah opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, the stillness of the morning was shattered by the sound of shattering glass. The agents froze as their bodies tensed when they instinctively reached for weapons that weren't there.

"What the hell?" whispered Michael in astonishment as he spotted a seamlessly coordinated assault team, their dark gear fusing with the shadows, storming the house.

The agents barely had time to react before the attackers were upon them. The door exploded inward with wood fragments flying through the air as it succumbed to a forceful ram. The assault team poured into the room with their weapons trained on the agents.

"On your knees, immediately!" the voice of an attacker boomed, distorted slightly by the mask he wore.

A swift exchange of glances between Michael, David, and Sarah spoke louder than words, instantly revealing their mutual understanding of the dangerous situation. With a resigned slowness, they lifted their hands and gently lowered themselves to the cold, hard surface beneath them.

The attackers moved quickly and efficiently. They zip-tied the agents' hands behind their backs as the plastic bit into their skin. Michael gritted his teeth as he tried to figure out who these people were and how they had found the safe house.

As the agents were hauled to their feet, the very fabric of the scene seemed to waver and distort, the hard edges of reality giving way to something more ethereal and strange. The vivid details of the ambush—the shattered glass glittering on the floor and the rough hands of the attackers—began to pixelate and break down, as though the scene itself were nothing more than a construct, a mere projection of light and shadow.

And then, with a sudden shift in perspective, the true nature of the scene was revealed. The ambush, the safe house, the agents themselves—all of it was contained within a glowing orb that rested in the hands of Lucas.

He sat cross-legged in a dimly lit room with his eyes fixed on the swirling images within the Divination Orb. A smirk tugged at his lips as he watched the agents' futile struggle. This is the price you pay for trying to kill me, he thought coldly. If the diplomatic talks between the UK and USA do not resolve things, I’ll pay a visit to America to do it myself.

With a flick of his wrist he banished the image, the orb going dark in his palms.

oo0ooOoo0oo

The car rolled to a stop at King's Cross Station as its tires crunched against the asphalt. Lucas emerged from the vehicle, straightening his crisp, white button-down shirt and adjusting the collar of his navy blazer. He turned to face his aunt, uncle, and cousin, who remained seated in the car.

"I'll take it from here," he said, offering them a polite smile. "Non-magical people can't pass through the barrier anyway. But thank you for driving me."

Petunia's thin lips pressed together as her bony fingers gripped the steering wheel. "Well, we hope you'll be back soon," She said in a strained voice.

Vernon grunted while his bulbous nose wrinkled as if he'd caught a whiff of something unpleasant. "The sooner you're back, the better."

Dudley had his round face scrunched in a pout, looking as if he wanted to protest but thought better of it. Instead, he leaned forward as his seatbelt strained against his body, and engulfed Lucas in a clumsy hug. "I wish I could go with you," he mumbled with his voice muffled against Lucas's shoulder.

Lucas returned the hug, patting his cousin's back. "I'll be back for the Christmas holidays and summer break, don't worry." He pulled away, waving at his relatives as he turned to face the station. "Goodbye!"

With a subtle flick of his wrist, Lucas cast a Muggle-Repelling Spell on himself, ensuring that the passing crowds would pay him no mind. He double-checked his invisible magical shield, reinforcing it as a precautionary measure. In public spaces like this, where concealing himself entirely with magic was not an option, he had to be vigilant about his safety. A single well-aimed bullet could end his life if he let his guard down.

Lucas navigated the crowded station with the ease of familiarity as his keen eyes scanned the platforms for any sign of the Weasleys. The pungent aroma of diesel fuel mingled with the rich, earthy scent of freshly ground coffee beans from a nearby café. Snippets of conversation floated through the air, punctuated by the occasional whistle of a departing train.

As he approached the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. The solid brick wall seemed to mock him, daring him to attempt passage. Lucas shook his head, amused by the irony of starting his formal magical education after already having attained considerable power. He glanced around, noting the distinct absence of red hair and hand-me-down robes. It appeared he had arrived earlier than the Weasleys.

A thought niggled at the back of his mind, a theory about the Weasleys' behavior in the original timeline. Their boisterous discussions about Muggles while they were seemingly oblivious to the potential risks had always struck him as odd. Perhaps they had employed a Muggle-Repelling Charm, allowing them to converse freely without fear of drawing unwanted attention. He was curious, and with time to spare, he decided to put his hypothesis to the test.

Lucas melted back into the crowd, finding a spot near a weathered pillar that afforded him an unobstructed view of the platform entrance. He leaned against the cool stone with a relaxed posture, and settled in to wait.

Nearly half an hour passed before a loud family of redheads emerged from the throng of commuters. Molly Weasley who had her flaming hair tied back in a messy bun, herded her brood towards the platform. Ron, his face still round with the softness of youth, trailed behind with his hands on his heavy cart. Skipping with joy, Ginny’s braided fiery locks swayed behind her as she stayed close to her mother’s side. Percy, Fred, and George brought up the rear with their trunks rattling as they jostled each other good-naturedly.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Their conversation carried over the din of the station, the words echoing those Lucas remembered from the books.

"It's packed with Muggles, of course," Molly said with her voice carrying a hint of exasperation.

Lucas observed the surrounding Muggles, noting how their gazes seemed to slide right over the Weasley family, never quite focusing on them. A satisfied smile played on his lips; his suspicions had been correct. The Weasleys were not foolish enough to discuss magical matters openly without some form of concealment.

"Now, what's the platform number?" Molly asked, and her question was met with an eager response from young Ginny.

"Nine and three-quarters! Mom, can't I go—"

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet," Molly chided gently. "All right, Percy, you go first."

As the Weasleys disappeared through the barrier one by one, the sight of the siblings struggling with their heavy trunks made him shake his head in exasperation. Perhaps they didn’t have the skill or knowledge to cast Extension Charms. Though Hermione had managed it in her sixth year, maybe she was simply more gifted in regards to magic. I will have to confirm it with Legilimency sometime in the future.

Once the last of the Weasleys had vanished through the barrier, Lucas pushed off from the pillar and made his way towards the platform entrance. He passed through the solid wall as if it were nothing more than a wisp of smoke, emerging onto a bustling platform teeming with witches and wizards.

The gleaming scarlet steam engine of the Hogwarts Express dominated the scene, its polished exterior reflecting the excited faces of the gathered students and their families. A wrought-iron archway bearing the words "Platform Nine and Three-Quarters" stood behind him where the barrier had been.

Cats of every color darted between the legs of the crowd as their meows mingled with the hooting of owls perched in cages overhead. The air buzzed with the chatter of friends reuniting after a summer apart while their laughter rang out above the hiss of steam from the engine.

Lucas walked through the crowd as his eyes scanned the platform for an empty compartment. He caught the occasional double-take from passing adults with their gazes drawn to the faint lightning scar on his forehead. He paid them no mind, focused on his destination.

As he stepped onto the train, the rich scent of polished wood and well-worn upholstery enveloped him. He found an unoccupied compartment near the rear of the carriage and settled himself near the window. Resting his chin on his hand, he gazed out at the families on the platform as their tearful goodbyes and fierce hugs stirred a bittersweet ache in his chest.

Memories of his own family from his previous life drifted through his mind. He had long since accepted the reality of his situation, the knowledge that he might never see them again. But, he still had hope.

As a wizard, he possessed power beyond the wildest dreams of his former self. The very existence of time turners hinted at the possibility of mastering time magic. And his very presence in this world confirmed it was possible to move between dimensions/universes. If he could achieve such feats, perhaps he could find a way back to his loved ones, slipping into their lives as if he had never been gone.

For now, it was a distant fantasy, a goal that shimmered like a mirage on the horizon.

A knock at the compartment door jolted Lucas from his musings. A boy with curly dark brown hair and a slightly upturned nose stood in the doorway as his hands fidgeted with the hem of his sweater.

"Sorry to bother you, but would you mind if I sit here?" the boy asked with a posh accent clear in his voice.

Lucas nodded, gesturing to the empty seats. "Sure, come on in."

The boy entered, dragging his trunk behind him. As he closed the door, he did a double-take with his eyes widening as he took a closer look at Lucas.

"Wait, you're Harry Potter, aren't you? I thought you were off doing some sort of research or something."

A smirk played on Lucas's lips. "I needed a cover story for coming to Hogwarts. And you are?"

The boy stammered, still in awe of being in the presence of the famous Harry Potter. "I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley. It's just... I can't believe you're a wizard like me."

Justin then turned his attention to his trunk, trying to lift it into the storage space above the seats. The heavy luggage proved too much for him, and he struggled to hoist it up.

"Need a hand?" Lucas offered.

Justin nodded gratefully, and with a casual wave of his hand, Lucas levitated the trunk effortlessly into the storage compartment. Justin's jaw dropped as his eyes widened with amazement.

"Is that... is that normal? I thought you needed a wand for magic," Justin’s voice trembled slightly as he asked.

Lucas smiled reassuringly. "It's easier with a wand, but with practice, you can do magic without one."

Justin nodded, taking a seat across from Lucas. He fidgeted nervously as he tried to find the right words. "So, which Hogwarts house are you interested in? I've read about them, but I'm not sure where I want to be sorted."

Lucas leaned back to mull over the question thoughtfully. "I've given it a lot of thought. All the houses have their merits, but I've heard about the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. I'd rather avoid that drama. And while I'm confident in my academic abilities, Ravenclaw's intense focus on grades doesn't appeal to me. Hufflepuff seems like the best fit—a quiet house that values hard work and fair play."

Justin listened intently, nodding along with Lucas's reasoning. "That makes sense. I don't want to get caught up in any house drama either. I was supposed to go to Eton, you know, but then my Hogwarts letter arrived. I couldn't pass up the chance to learn magic. Who would?"

"Exactly," Lucas agreed with a smile on his face. "That's why I delayed my plans for a Ph.D. Magic is too important to ignore."

Justin beamed, relieved to find someone who understood his perspective. "My mother was a bit disappointed at first. She didn't see the practical use for magic in the real world. But I think it could be so convenient, don't you?"

Lucas nodded. "Absolutely. In our seventh year, we'll learn to Apparate—basically teleportation. That's useful no matter where you are. Plus, magic makes everyday tasks so much easier. We'll be less dependent on the Muggle world."

Just as Justin was about to respond, another knock echoed at the compartment door. A girl with bushy brown hair peeked in, a look of curiosity on her face.

"Excuse me, but have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville seems to have misplaced his," she said in a breathless rush.

Lucas and Justin exchanged a glance, shaking their heads in unison. "Can't say that we have," Lucas replied, an apologetic smile on his face.

The girl paused at the threshold of the compartment as her gaze settled on Lucas with awe and recognition. As the realization fully dawned on her, her expression shifted to one of unabashed admiration.

"You're Harry Potter!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement. "I've read all about you! Not just in the magical world, but in the Muggle world too. You're a genius! Your work in science and technology is amazing. And here, you're the Boy-Who-Lived. I've read about you in 'Modern Magical History,' 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts,' and 'Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.' I can't believe you're a wizard too!"

Lucas chuckled, raising a hand to gently interrupt her enthusiastic rambling. "Thanks, but those books and articles don't tell the whole story. There's a lot more to it than what's been written."

The girl blushed, but quickly composed herself. "I'm sorry, I got carried away. I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?" She turned to Justin, offering a friendly smile.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley," he replied, returning the smile. "Nice to meet you."

Hermione beamed at them both. "I'm ever so excited to be here, aren't you? I mean, it's not every day one discovers they're a witch! I've been practicing some simple spells, just to get a head start, you know. I do hope it's enough. I'd hate to be at a disadvantage, being from a non-magical family and all."

Lucas shook his head. "Don't worry, Hermione. Everyone starts at the beginning here. You'll do great."

Hermione's smile widened at his reassurance. Then, she remembered her original reason for coming to their compartment. "Oh! I almost forgot. Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

Lucas and Justin exchanged a glance and shook their heads. "No, sorry," Justin said.

But Lucas had an idea. "I could help find it, if you'd like."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Really? That would be wonderful! But how?"

Lucas smiled mysteriously. He lifted his hand, and after a few seconds of concentration, a toad came zooming through the air and landed gently in his palm.

Hermione gasped, her jaw dropping in astonishment. "How did you do that?"

"The Accio spell," Lucas said simply. "It's something you'll learn in your fourth year."

Hermione stared at him with her mouth agape. "But... but that's such an advanced spell! And you did it without a wand! How is that possible?"

Lucas shrugged with a nonchalant expression clear on his face. "I've been doing magic without a wand since I was a baby. I've had a lot of practice and it just comes naturally to me now."

Hermione looked at him admiration. "That's incredible. You must be a really powerful wizard."

Lucas handed the toad to Hermione, the creature nestling comfortably in her cupped hands. "Here, you should return this to Neville."

Hermione took the toad, still in shock at Lucas's magical display. "Thank you so much, Harry. I'll make sure Neville gets his toad back." She paused, hesitating for a moment. "Would you mind if I came back later? I'd love to talk more about magic and your experiences."

Lucas nodded with a warm smile on his face. "Sure, feel free to come back anytime."

With a final grateful smile, Hermione left the compartment, cradling the toad carefully in her hands.

Justin turned to Lucas with eyes widened in amazement. "That was brilliant, Harry! I can't wait to learn how to do that."

Lucas smiled gently. "You’ll no doubt learn it sooner or later."

As the train whistled and began to pull out of the station, Lucas settled back into his seat and continued discussing Hogwarts with Justin.