Nineteen Years Later

           Autumnseemedtoarrivesuddenlythatyear.ThemorningofthefirstofSeptemberwascrispasanapple,andasthelittlefamilybobbedacrosstherumblingroadtowardthegreatsootystation,thefumesofcarexhaustsandthebreathofpedestrianssparkledlikecobwebsinthecoldair.Twolargecagestattledontopoftheladentrolleystheparentswerepushing;theowlsinsidethemhootedindignantly,andtheredheadedgirltrailedfearfullybehindherbrothers,clutchingherfather’sarm.

           "Itwon’tbelong,andyou’llbegoingtoo,"Harrytoldher.

           "Twoyears,"sniffedLily."Iwanttogonow!"

           Thecommutersstaredcuriouslyattheowlsasthefamilywoveitswaytowardthebarrierbetweenplatformsnineandten,Albus’svoicedriftedbacktoHarryoverthesurroundingclamor;hissonshadresumedtheargumenttheyhadstartedinthecar.

           "Iwon’t!Iwon’tbeaSlytherin!"

           "James,giveitarest!"saidGinny.

           "Ionlysaidhemightbe,"saidJames,grinningathisyoungerbrother."There’snothingwrongwiththat.HemightbeinSlytherin—"

           ButJamescaughthismother’seyeandfellsilent.ThefivePottersapproachedthebarrier.Withaslightlycockylookoverhisshoulderathisyoungerbrother,Jamestookthetrolleyfromhismotherandbrokeintoarun.Amomentlater,hehadvanished.

           "You’llwritetome,won’tyou?"Albusaskedhisparentsimmediately,capitalizingonthemomentaryabsenceofhisbrother.

           "Everyday,ifyouwantusto,"saidGinny.