Harry glanced around, lowering his voice. "You made it back from Azkaban quicker than I imagined. What did the Warden have to say?"

"You were right, Mr. Potter," Delphi began formally, then corrected herself. "The Augurey mark. What you saw before the follower died wasn't your imagination. The image sprouts wings that flap when a member of the Tempest is signaling for help."

Harry nodded grimly. "I was afraid of this. Voldemort's Dark Mark changed in color. If they've learned that the mark on Teddy's shoulder is fake... We may have compromised him. I should've never sent Teddy underground with the Tempest. The mission was too risky."

"He insisted," Delphi reminded him.

"But it should've been someone else. What a fool," Harry berated himself.

"You couldn't have known, Harry," Delphi said gently.

She reached out, touching his arm tenderly before quickly pulling her hand away, aware of Ginny's watchful eyes.

"And Percy is breathing down my neck about the escape," Harry continued, releasing a heavy breath. "I've been hunting Rodolphus Lestrange since my first day in the office. No movements whatsoever—then he risks everything by coming out of hiding to free this man from Azkaban. I need to know why."

"Because he's Blitzfanger," Delphi suggested.

"Pariah Prince? Most likely."

In silence, they looked at one of the nearby posters of the convict as students continued to stream through the secret entrance to the platform.

"Lestrange," muttered Harry. "Lestrange must be the Augurey."

Delphi raised an eyebrow. "Lord Blitzfanger... Is that name supposed to arouse fear?"

"No one will be frightened to say that one in public, I assure you," Harry said wryly. "Apparently, it means Lightning Catcher." He pointed to his scar.

"They get right to the point, don't they? And we're taking them seriously?" Delphi questioned.

"We must. There's a hierarchy to their leadership. They've spread out. The Tempest have learned from the mistakes of the Death Eaters."

Harry noticed a man in brown robes leaving his family behind to approach them, eagerness in his eyes as he prepared to demonstrate his esteem with a genuflection. Quickly, Harry turned his back to the man.

"Lestrange has grown confident these past years, increasing their numbers, biding their time," Harry continued. "At least with Voldemort, we learned what he was planning because he was impatient. He didn't wait twenty years to make a move."

"And they say this Lord Blitzfanger has a knack for rallying stragglers to their cause," Delphi mused as she watched the man in brown robes returning to his family. "You should take a page from their book and use your celebrity to get information."

"That's what I should do, huh?" Harry replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah, or just take it from their minds with your wand," she joked.

Harry chuckled. "Were it only that easy. Frankly, my wand can be bested by every student on this platform."

"I thought the new one was comparable to your Phoenix core wand," Delphi said, concerned.

"It rattles. The spells come out too slowly. I knew I shouldn't have gone with elm," he sighed, defeatedly. "And it's too long."

"What about my suggestion to—"

"No!" Harry cut her off sharply, then softened his tone. "I... I've thought it over, and the answer is no. However, you were using your mind in a way no one else would. I see the value in that. Which is why... I'll never let you leave my department."

"Thank you again for the promotion, Mister... Harry," she said gratefully.

"You are surpassing my every expectation, Delphi. You have the makings of an Auror. Top marks in Subterfuge and Stratagem, Stealth and Tracking, Concealment and Disguise, Analysis and Pursuit. At this rate, you could pass the trials by spring."

"Not if I don't fare better with Sparring and Sorcery," she admitted.

"My worst discipline was..."

"Rumination and Restraint," they said in unison, sharing a brief smile.

"And look where restraint has gotten me," Harry remarked wryly. "I excelled in Sparring and Sorcery, though. I should be training you in private, practicing maneuvers I was unwilling to show Teddy. Had I done so, maybe... I don't know..."

Just then, Albus strolled nonchalantly past them toward the train, his expression rebellious. "See you at Christmas, Dad," he called over his shoulder.

"Al—" Harry began.

"My name is Albus, not Al," his son retorted without turning around.

Harry watched him go, frustration and sadness mingling on his brow. He couldn't help but rush to catch his son.

"I'll take you up on that," Delphi called, referring to his offer.

"You should!" Harry called back. "I'm in need of a Dark wizard catcher."

Grinning, Delphi melted into the crowd as Harry emerged from the swirling steam, looking troubled. James approached, hugging his father before climbing aboard the train. Ginny saw the opportunity and stepped up to Harry, determination etched on her face.

"You had your chance to say goodbye," she said pointedly.

"He'll be gone for months," lamented Harry, looking past her. "And I doubt he'll be writing me."

"I told you to leave him be," Ginny admonished.

"But this is wrong. This is not how it's supposed to go."

"Look, as long as he's happy, that's all that matters to me."

"So I'm supposed to stand and watch as he makes friends with the wrong sort?" Harry challenged.

"No. You're supposed to teach him how to meet life," Ginny countered.

"How? He won't listen."

"Perhaps he's waiting for you to see him clearly," she suggested.

They stood together as the whistles blew up and down the platform, Lily waving enthusiastically at the train.

"Stop that, Harry," Ginny chided, at his worried expression. "We have lots of time."

"Hogwarts will be the making of him. And he was put in Slytherin..."

"And what is wrong with that?" Ginny asked slowly, her eyes searching his.

"Slytherin is the House of the snake, of Dark magic. It's not a House of... brave wizards," Harry said hesitantly.

"If I'm not mistaken, Albus Severus was named after two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin, and he was probably the bravest man we ever knew," Ginny reminded him.

"Snape—brave?" Harry scoffed. "He was about as brave as I am evil. And Snape should never have been recognized as an official Headmaster of Hogwarts. He was the leader of an occupation of the castle. He was hardly Dumbledore. I don't know what the governors were thinking."

"When did your opinion of him change so drastically?"

"A few years ago. My station at the Ministry has afforded me certain privileges and access to information, which provided me insight into the former actions of the Death Eaters. The ones who fought and killed many of our relatives. As a Death Eater, Severus Snape was involved in most of their misdeeds and murders. I should've never named our son Severus without really knowing the man. I've cursed him."

Ginny crossed her arms and stiffened, lips pressing into a thin line.

"You're wrong, and you know it," she said firmly. "Children aren't defined by their blood, but what's in their hearts. No one is born evil. They're trained to be who they are by those who influence them, toward the light or the dark. Even then, no one is irredeemable. Right?"

"Yes. Certainly," Harry conceded, though his expression remained troubled.

She took his hand as the Hogwarts Express started moving, as Lily skipped after the last train car.

Ginny cleared her throat. "Delphini was a little overdressed, don't you think? For a meeting at a train station."

"I hadn't noticed," Harry replied vaguely.

"C'mon, Harry. I see the way she looks at you. She's obsessed, can't you see it?"

"Delphi is just a co-worker," he insisted.

"Trust me, if there's anyone who knows what it looks like to be obsessed with the one and only Harry Potter, it's me. Your wife," Ginny said, a hint of humor masking her concern.

"You have nothing to worry about," Harry assured her.

He looked apprehensively at the train as it exited the station, the billowing steam obscuring it from view.

"And neither do you," Ginny added softly.

"He'll be all right, won't he?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, he will," Ginny said, squeezing his hand.

"Especially with a mother like you."

"There's much more of you in Albus than me. He has your eyes," she observed.

"My mother's eyes, you mean," Harry corrected.

"No, Harry. Those are your eyes," Ginny said, her gaze steady. "He's your son, through and through."

They stood in silence as the platform emptied around them, the echoes of departing families fading into the distance.