Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (MOD Novelization)

2

The thick white steam of the Hogwarts Express covered Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, enveloping excited families and eager students preparing for departure. Amidst the lively crowd, Harry, Ginny, Albus, and Lily emerged from the barrier, the familiar cacophony of endless chatter and owl hoots filling the air. James had darted ahead, already mingling with friends.

Witches and wizards hurried by, robes swirling at their feet, some clutching cameras with quills that scribbled notes of their own accord. A few cast curious glances at the Potters, whispers trailing in their wake. Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through, tailoring Harry's unruly hairstyle into a perfect coif. A young woman with a sweet face and long brown hair appeared, wand discreetly pocketed.

"Delphini, I don't know what I would do without you," Harry said, smoothing the wilder strands with a grateful smile.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Potter. And I've told you to address me as Delphi," she replied warmly.

"As soon as you start calling me Harry," he chuckled, turning to Albus. "She looks after me—Delphini."

"Well, I try," she said modestly.

Behind them, posters wrapped the station walls, bearing the moving image of a snarling bald man with a dark, bushy beard and a lightning bolt scar etched into his forehead. The name "Pariah Prince" was emblazoned beneath the haunting visage.

A cluster of reporters spotted Harry and converged, quills poised. "Mr. Potter! A prisoner has escaped from Azkaban. Is a witch-hunt underway?" one called out.

Another chimed in, "We hear The Tempest are to blame. Does that mean Rodolphus Lestrange is involved? He escaped from Azkaban, himself, after the Battle of Hogwarts."

A third reporter pushed their way forward. "Should the public be concerned, since Lestrange has eluded capture for years?"

Harry raised a hand, his expression patient yet firm. "Ah, really, what does my opinion matter anymore?" he deflected lightly, casting a glance at a nearby poster. 

Rather taken with Harry, many of the reporters laughed. One reporter pressed, "The prisoner carved a lightning bolt into his forehead. Care to comment?" 

"The chatter from Azkaban is that Pariah Prince was obsessed with you, Mr. Potter," added another. "Is there any truth behind these rumors?"

Harry sighed softly. "The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing and should, therefore, be treated with great caution," he said, recalling the familiar phrase. "Albus Dumbledore said that to me once."

Delphi stepped forward apologetically. "I apologize, Mr. Potter... er... Harry. I told them not to bother you."

"It's all right," he assured her.

Noticing a stubborn lock of black hair, Delphi instinctively reached out to smooth it. "No matter what I do..."

Ginny's eyes narrowed slightly and Delphi withdrew her hand, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks. Shrugging, Harry flattened it himself.

"I like the way your hair lays," Ginny murmured with a hint of apprehension.

Delphi smiled sheepishly. "I'm ruining a family moment, aren't I?"

"Not at all. Don't be silly," Harry replied, exchanging a knowing glance with Ginny. She sighed and fought to smile. He kissed her on the forehead and then turned back to Delphi. "First time here without getting on the train, eh?"

"Yes, sir. It certainly is strange. Thank you for the opportunity," she said earnestly.

"Well, a spot opened in the department, and you came highly recommended," Harry asserted. "Professor McGonagall said you were top of your class the first three years. Head Girl, Quidditch Captain. You come from good stock—I can tell."