Chương 19: Chapter 20 : Departing for Hogwarts

Harry drew in a sharp, ragged breath.

"Why?" he demanded.

"She was her sister!" Tyson tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder.

"Bitches don't need a reason to ruin someone's life, Harry. That's why they're called bitches." Harry breathed heavily for a few seconds before the anger drained out of him.

"Sorry for getting so worked up all of a sudden," Harry mumbled, looking embarrassed. Tyson waved it off.

"We're buddies. If we can't be real with each other, then who can we be real with?" Harry looked even guiltier. Tyson crossed the room, retrieved the fallen book, and returned. Flopping back onto the bed, he showed it to Harry.

"Don't worry about it—the book's fine. No permanent damage." Harry gave a weak smile. Tyson continued in a much softer tone, "As for your aunt and uncle, we already knew they were irredeemable assholes. At least now you'll have Hogwarts instead of being stuck with them." Harry's face brightened noticeably.

"So the plan stays the same, right?"

"As soon as you turn seventeen, you can get out of that nightmare," Tyson replied with a grin.

"Might need some updates to the plan though." Harry leaned in.

"Like what?" Tyson spread his arms dramatically.

"We have magic." Harry's eyes widened.

"Oh."

"Oh," Tyson mocked.

"That's all?" Harry sat up straighter.

"What kind of stuff can we do?" Tyson smirked.

"I heard by sixth year they teach us teleportation. We can go anywhere we want buddy. Heck, we can go to fuckin New York!" Harry's mood lifted almost instantly. The vision of travelling the world freely, unbound by the cupboard under the stairs, clearly fuelled the dream he had carried for so long.

"Though I must remind you, before we start planning any grand adventures, you should get some studying in," Tyson said, reopening his book. He continued, eyes already tracing the words.

"Just so you know, I've already mastered every charm in the first-year textbook and picked up a couple from the second-year material as well." Harry's eyes widened dramatically, nearly bulging behind his round glasses, before he schooled his expression into a casual shrug that clearly said 'as expected.' Tyson felt a flicker of amusement at the reaction but pressed on.

"Once we're at school, I plan to train seriously in dueling. I might even start weaving spells into our sparring sessions, so be prepared." This time, Tyson was afraid Harry's eyes would genuinely pop out of their sockets. The boy bid him a quick farewell and dashed back toward his own house, no doubt eager to begin practising charms himself. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The sight was genuinely amusing....

The rest of the month passed by quickly. After what had happened at home, Harry had gained a lot more freedom. Not because the Dursleys had suddenly grown a conscience—far from it. If anything, they were trying harder than ever to act like he simply wasn't there. For Harry, that was probably an improvement. Tyson, meanwhile, buried himself even deeper in his studies. By now, he had gone through nearly all of the first-year textbooks.

The only ones he had mostly ignored were A History of Magic and the Potions textbook. History had always bored him to death. And Potions... Potions was just chemistry wearing a fancy hat. He had hated chemistry before, and magic apparently hadn't improved it. Still, between the standard textbooks and the extra reference books he'd bought, he was building a decent foundation. Whenever the main books left something vague, the supplementary ones usually filled in the gaps.

His progress in Charms had been the most impressive. By now, he had successfully learned most of the second-year spells. Some of them needed living targets to properly test—like the Tickling Charm or the Dancing Feet Spell. Since experimenting on people wasn't exactly an option, Tyson had been forced to use the trees in the backyard. The results weren't exactly reliable. Trees, unsurprisingly, didn't dance. Still, it helped improve his aim. His greatest achievement, though, had been learning the Summoning Charm.

With a wand, of course. He knew that wasn't supposed to sound impressive. After all, he'd been trying to cast it wandlessly for almost a year now. But even so, Accio was a fourth-year spell. For a first-year to cast it at all—even with a wand—was absurdly difficult. It seemed all those months of failing at the wandless version hadn't been wasted after all. The repeated practice had sharpened his intent far more than he'd realised. Even now, he hadn't stopped practising it wandlessly.

It had been the first spell he'd ever seriously tried to master without a wand. And Tyson had no intention of dropping it halfway. The boon to his intent was just a bonus.... King's Cross was a storm of noise and motion. People moved in endless streams through the station, carts rattling over stone, engines hissing in the distance, while voices layered over one another until they became a constant, shapeless hum. Tyson stood near the entrance, taking it all in while his father pulled him into one last embrace.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" his dad asked as he stepped back, his hands resting on Tyson's shoulders for a moment longer than necessary. Tyson chuckled, glancing around at the sea of people before looking back at him.

"I'll be fine, Dad. Besides, I have a reputation to maintain." He smirked.

"Can't have people seeing me with parental supervision. I'm supposed to be a menace." His father snorted, rubbing the top of Tyson's head hard enough to ruin his carefully styled hair.

"A menace, huh? That's definitely one word for it." Then his gaze shifted toward Harry, who stood nearby, gripping a trolley awkwardly, which had both of their luggage, with Hedwig's cage perched on top.

"Harry," his dad said, his tone carrying just enough seriousness to make the boy straighten.

"Try to keep him from causing trouble."

"I will, Mr. Steward," Harry answered quickly, sounding as formal as an eleven-year-old could manage. Then he bumped Tyson lightly with his shoulder.

"Come on, we're running out of time." Tyson ignored him and pointed at Harry instead.

"That's your first mistake, Dad. If anyone here's trouble, it's him." Which was factually true, since he was the protagonist. His father grinned.

"If Harry's the trouble magnet, you're a trouble generator. A reactor, even." Tyson laughed at that, and the two shared a grin. Although his dad often carried a serious demeanor, the man could be hella funny when he was in the mood, though it was rare enough to catch Tyson off guard every time. Usually, he was serious, practical, grounded—not the sort to waste words. Tyson cherished that side of him, as did his mother.

Sadly, she hadn't been able to join them today; Sofia had a scheduled well-child checkup that she needed to attend. Tyson had already said his proper goodbyes at home, where his mother had wept enough tears to fill a river.

"Drive safely, Dad." His father nodded, then surprised Harry by pulling him into a hug before leaving. Harry froze instantly, looking like someone had turned him to stone. Tyson politely looked away, pretending to adjust the straps on his trunk to spare the poor kid some embarrassment. By the time he turned back, Harry's glasses were crooked, his face was red, and there was a sheepish little smile on his face that gave away how much he'd secretly appreciated it.

With one final wave, Tyson's dad disappeared into the station crowd. Tyson and Harry stood together for a moment before setting off toward the barrier, ready for the journey ahead.