"The Daily Prophet would never freely disclose its sources," the reporter replied smugly.

"That's because they don't exist," Harry retorted. Catching Ginny's concerned look, he added, "Anyway, I'd better be going... before I'm sent a Howler by my own wife."

As he moved to rejoin his family, a reporter called out, "Then your scar hasn't been hurting again? We have to ask to rule it out."

Harry halted, momentarily taken aback. Delphi rushed forward. "Mr. Potter won't be taking any more questions this morning," she announced firmly.

"At least give us a picture, Harry," one pleaded. "With your son. Beside the engine, perhaps."

Harry placed a hand on Albus's shoulder. "Oh, what's the harm? One picture."

"Dad, I don't want my picture taken," Albus whispered anxiously.

"Nice big smile, son. Who knows, we might make the front page," Harry encouraged.

Flashing bulbs lit up the platform, drawing the attention of other students. Ginny frowned slightly as they dissipated. "Was that necessary, Gilderoy?"

"Ginny—stop," Harry replied irritably

As they moved down the platform hushed whispers floated around them.

"Who is that boy?" an unknown voice murmured, the words laced with fervor.

Ginny leaned in closer to Albus. "Your father once thought such actions were obnoxious."

Another whisper cut through the din, this time with a name attached. "Albus Potter."

"Well, I was younger then. This is part of the job, dear. I've told you that," Harry defended. "They're going to write about it regardless. If I want the truth getting out, I have to be involved. Would you rather they wait outside our home to get photos of us? This way, I'm in control — as much as I can be."

The first whisperer chimed in again, this time with a hint of awe. "A Potter. In our year."

"My husband is the first wizard in history to control the news of the Daily Prophet." She paused for effect before adding, "You forget that I worked for them before Lily was born."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You sound doubtful."

"Because I am," she replied candidly.

"He's got his hair," another whisperer observed from the shadows. "He's got hair just like him."

"And he's my cousin," chimed a young voice, proud and slightly defiant.

"Oh, good. Maybe they can speak some sense to you."

Ginny turned just in time to see Ron and Hermione following their daughter, Rose, onto the platform.

"Rose Weasley. Nice to make your acquaintance," she said brightly, extending a hand. The curious students fled.

Hugo, their son, clung tightly to Hermione's leg, his eyes wide with amazement at the fascinating scene. As they joined the Potters on the platform, Hermione and Ginny embraced with the warmth of dearest friends. Harry scooped Lily into his arms, his daughter giggling with delight, while Albus stood alone at the center of the platform, watching the flurry of activity around him.

Hermione, beaming with pride and a touch of anxiety, turned to Ginny. "First child off to Hogwarts! I've been planning for this moment since the day she was born, and I swear it, Ginny, I'm not ready."

Albus, feeling the weight of the moment and eager to escape the spotlight, glanced up at his parents, who were too caught up in conversation to notice his plea. "Can I just run onto the train? Do I have to wait?"

Ginny smiled at the sight of Hermione's daughter, who stood tall, as keen and confident as ever. "Rose looks more than ready."

Hermione hiccuped a laugh, her nerves evident. "Her? My daughter is worried whether she'll break the Quidditch scoring record in her first or second year. And how early she can take her O.W.L.s."

Albus, growing more impatient, tugged at Harry's sleeve. "Can I just find a compartment? We've already said our goodbyes."

"I have no idea where she gets her ambition from," Ron quipped easily, ever the jokester.

As Ron and Ginny shared a quick hug, he nodded flatly to Harry. They shook hands, a gesture of distant camaraderie between brothers-in-law. And nothing more.

"Harry."

"Ron," Harry acknowledged. "Cold for this time of year, isn't it?"

Ron hesitated for longer than was necessary. "As soon as the train leaves, you don't have to talk to me."

"I know," Harry said quietly. "We just need to keep the pretense up in front of the children."

Ron crouched down to Hugo's eye level, a playful gleam in his eyes. "This is it, Hugo," he said, sweeping his arm toward the smokey platform. "Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. And there's the big, wonderful Hogwarts Express." The gleaming scarlet engine stood majestically amid clouds of steam, its whistle echoing above the chatter. "With a trolley full of food," Ron added enviously. "Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes... I'd give anything to be going back."

Just then, James reappeared, weaving through the crowd with an impish grin. Hermione watched her husband and son with a mix of amusement and nostalgia. Turning to Harry, she sighed softly. "Oh, Harry, can you believe it?"

Harry met her gaze with a wry smile. "No," he admitted, the single word carrying a wealth of unspoken memories.

"I'm glad you found the time to see them both off—what with the news," Hermione continued, a note of concern in her voice.

"Yeah," Harry replied, glancing briefly at a cluster of reporters hovering near the edge of the platform. "I didn't know Snape had any living relatives on the Prince side."

Hermione tracked his gaze, her expression tightening as she noticed the journalists edging closer, quills poised. "I see the vultures continue to follow your every move."

Ron straightened up, slipping an arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Harry Potter is always where the action is," he sniped. "Or maybe he just wants his face back in the newspapers again."

Ginny, standing beside Harry, let out a soft sigh. "Harry seems to think he can control the Daily Prophet now," she said with a subtle edge, her eyes flicking toward her husband.

Ron smirked. "Why am I not surprised?"

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a worried glance. Harry, however, appeared unbothered, his gaze drifting back to the Hogwarts Express as if lost in thought.

Albus tugged at his mother's sleeve. "Can I go now, please?"

Ginny touched his face gently. "What's the rush, Al?"

"The boy's excited," Ron interjected.

"And it's not as if I'm leaving forever," Albus pointed out. "You'll write to me, won't you?"

"Nana Weasley wrote to your mother three times a week her first year," Harry said.

"We can send owls every day if you want us to," Ginny offered.

"No, not every day," Albus insisted. "James says most people only get letters from home about once a month. I don't want to look as pathetic as I already feel."

Rose leaned in conspiratorially. "I have to say—I don't mind admitting—I am a tiny bit—just a tiny bit scared."

"I promise you, there's nothing to be frightened of there," Hermione reassured her.

"Apart from the Thestrals," James chimed in mischievously. "Watch out for the Thestrals."

"I thought they were invisible!" Rose exclaimed.

"Not if you've seen a dead body. Or an Inferi," James said with a grin.

"You've seen an Inferi?" Rose asked, eyes wide.

"There's loads of them in the dungeons," James continued with nonchalance.

"Ignore your cousin," Hermione said firmly. "He's only joking."

"No, I'm not," James mouthed playfully.

Their banter was interrupted by a woman in emerald robes approaching the group. She bowed in genuflect before Harry, murmuring words of reverence. Harry gestured for her to stand, but the cameras had already swiveled to capture the moment.

"Must you...?" Ginny implored the woman. "Please, don't do that."

"Sorry, everyone," Harry apologized.

Delphi hurried over, guiding the woman away from the spotlight.

"What was she saying?" Hugo asked innocently.

"Remarkable. What's it like having people worship you night and day?" Ron teased.

"Ronald..." Hermione admonished.

"It was nothing but drivel, Hugo," Harry explained. "People still like to thank me for that business with Voldemort. Some of them take their appreciation too far, sadly. This happens from time to time."

"Based on that admission, you'd think your uncle did it all himself!" Ron remarked, adjusting his coat. He looked away. "You might've been right about the weather, Harry. Bit cold over here. In fact, I'm going to chase the train out. Who's with me?"

Lily, Hugo, and James eagerly followed Ron, disappearing into the billowing steam of the Hogwarts Express.

Albus shifted awkwardly. "I should leap on..."

"Fine, last word of advice," Harry began. "Listen to your professors—"

"—don't listen to rumors about your father—" Ginny interjected.

"—and remember to enjoy yourself," Harry finished.

They pulled Albus into a warm embrace.

"Rose, remember to send Neville our love," Hermione called after her daughter.

"Mum, I can't give a professor love!" Rose protested, rolling her eyes.

Albus pulled away, glancing around. "Can I go? People are looking, you know."

"Only because of that woman," Ginny assured him.

"No. People always look when you're together. And apart. People always look at you," Albus said quietly.

Ginny sighed. "Okay, then. Bye."

"Al," Harry called out as his son began to leave. "You need to concentrate."

"Concentrate on what?" Albus asked.

"Getting into Gryffindor!" Harry said obviously, with an encouraging smile.

Albus nodded, giving a shy wave before joining Rose. Together, they vanished into the swirling steam.

"Strange, Al being embarrassed of the cameras," Harry mused.

"Face it—your celebrity impacts upon us all," Ginny replied softly.

Harry looked thoughtful, watching the train as it prepared to depart. The whistle blew, a long, piercing sound that signaled the journey ahead. As the Hogwarts Express began to pull away, he couldn't shake the feeling that, despite the familiar setting, change was in the air. They stood together on the platform, the crowd thinning around them as parents bid their final farewells. The steam slowly dissipated, leaving behind an emptiness where the train had been. Harry took a deep breath, the crisp air filling his lungs.

"Harry," Ginny said, slipping her hand into his. "Everything will be all right."

He squeezed her hand gently. "I hope so."