Come In and Sit Down

Come in and sit down.

September 1, 2014, 7:30 a.m.

King's Cross Station, Platform 9¾.

Steam and the roar of voices tangled together. Owls hooted, cats meowed, and a toad that had made a break for freedom under a trolley let out a shriek. A rather dim-looking boy was blubbering as he hunted for the creature, while a sharp, pretty girl beside him kept up a steady stream of talk. Parents snapped photos of their children boarding the train on their phones, and sharp-eyed people in suits stood posted all around, wrapping the train like a security cordon. Red steam pooled along the floor; the air smelled of oil and fresh bread.

A massive magical display board mounted on one side of the platform blazed with dazzling light. Living, writhing images and text poured across it without pause.

On the screen, a wizard in a sleek uniform streaked through the air on a broomstick faster than lightning. The sharp whistle of wind and a dazzling aerobatic display made the eyes spin. When the ad ended, another clip took its place.

A solemn-faced goblin appeared, boasting of the vaults' ironclad defenses. Heaps of glittering gold coins and jewels filled the screen.

Even the news spilled out. The anchor's voice cut cleanly through the platform noise.

Eugene didn't even glance at the board. He dragged his carrier along with a lazy rattle and strolled right past it.

Behind a pillar, Eugene Kim stood alone with his carrier after briefly parting from Cedric. His shirt was already soaked with sweat; his palms were sticky. After working up a full sweat earlier, his whole body felt unpleasantly clammy. He just wanted to finish this and get back to the compartment to rest.

The calm before the storm. I won't bother arguing with everyone who laughed — and still laughs — about selling condoms at Hogwarts. Whether you're right or I'm right, the sales figures will decide…

"Hey, what are you doing here? Not getting on?"

Ernie Macmillan walked up and spoke to Eugene, who had been muttering nonsense under his breath.

"Ah, shit. You scared me."

"What kind of daydream were you having that you didn't answer when I called? Not boarding? If you were having dirty thoughts, sorry for interrupting."

"Piss off, please. I'll get on in a bit."

"Why? Oh, the student council president was looking for you earlier. Is that it?"

"What? Why's that guy looking for me?"

"Zacharias was snitching about something? You get into another fight?"

"Haa. Those fucking bastards…"

"Crazy bastard. So it's true. Not even the Sorting Ceremony — you're starting on the train now?"

"It just kind of happened. Aren't you getting on? Why'd you come without even a carrier?"

"Why would I drag a carrier? I'm wearing my uniform, wallet and phone charger and glasses case in my pockets. For a guy, that's enough."

"…Underwear? Toothbrush? Hair dryer? Razor?"

"You've got those. Or I'll just order them by post."

"Piss off. Don't talk to me all semester. I'm never lending you anything."

"Oh right, Eugene — the refreshment car's closed today."

"What? Suddenly, why???"

No. I was going to gather about ten third-year friends I get along with in the refreshment car today and promote the goods. Even if I handle the Hufflepuff boys' dorm and the twins handle the Gryffindor boys' dorm, we can't get into the other houses. Sales start most efficiently from the bed, damn it.

"The owner called in sick this morning. Said her stomach was hurting all of a sudden. She never hires part-timers — runs the whole thing alone — so there's no one to watch the place if students keep coming and going. They're just shutting the whole car for today."

The snack-cart witch — no, the refreshment car owner — has a stomach bug. This goddamn world throws tackles at me over even the tiniest things.

Eugene sent the snickering Ernie on his way and locked his carrier one more time, hard. When Fred and George still didn't show no matter how long he waited, he headed for cargo car 21 first. It was the farthest from the student council and staff cars, and since it mostly carried luggage for the permanent staff rather than student bags, it got the lightest inspections.

"Ah, damn it. Why is the Ministry so competent?"

It hadn't always been this thorough. Unlike the original, hundreds of plainclothes staff had flooded the place for Harry's arrival, checking every passerby and every piece of luggage. He should have met Fred and George early to check and hide the goods, but the twins had spotted their dad, panicked, and run off pretending to set off fireworks as a cover. Fair enough — what parent wouldn't freak out if their kids were smuggling condoms and cigarettes into school?

Uncle Raul will never know, even if he dies. This is an experiment. An anthropological observation and the first step toward keeping the peace of the Wizarding World. A necessary evil to top up Dark Knight Eugene Kim's finances. I need to make some money so that if Harry starts looking overwhelmed later, I can hire mercenaries from abroad if I have to. A beggar can't give anything away.

He convinced himself. No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't picture a scenario where he beat the three senators from the simulation, or Bellatrix Lestrange, or Barty Crouch Jr., head-on. And if he saved Cedric, graduated, and ran, what about the Harry left behind? Could Harry, Ron, and Hermione safely defeat those monsters — different from the original — and bring peace to this world? He had seen too much to think romantically or optimistically. So he was going to make money, at least.

Of course it would be a lie to say there was no self-interest. He would skim a little margin, but he would use it to help Harry after Book 5. Recruit and organize people who would help Harry so that Harry, Ron, and Hermione wouldn't end up exhausted and miserable living in a tent like in the original. Make enough money so they could at least stay in Hilton suite rooms. In the end, wars were fought with money and logistics. This was his own way of atoning — atoning to Harry, who would have to bear the changed future after Eugene saved Cedric.

"Eugene!"

While the thoughts kept rolling, a low, cheerful whisper reached him. He turned; two red heads bobbed at once.

The Weasley twins, Fred and George. Gryffindor second-years, one year older than first-year Ron, one year younger than third-year Percy — the mischievous twins. Same face, same grin, same suspicious air.

"Hi—"

"Hello?"

"Hey, why so late? I was about to go in first."

Eugene raised a hand.

"Sorry. Dad."

"Sorry. We got here as fast as we could, though."

"Let's get inside first. The goods? Ready?"

"Of course."

The three of them slipped into the empty cargo corridor after the inspections had already passed. One of the twins — Fred or George, hard to tell — gave a trunk a light kick.

"Eugene, ours is several times more than yours. Things went better than we planned. Charlie helped us out."

"How much?"

"Wanna see?"

The lid opened.

Toys, junk food, potion bottles, Stinging Pellets, Dungbombs, badges, Hiccup Sweets… and thirty cartons of cigarettes, fifty boxes of condoms.

Crazy bastards. Three hundred cartons of cigarettes and five thousand condoms? You're going to sell all this once a month? Are you sane? Shit, isn't Britain low-birthrate too? Is it because there are so many Indian kids at Hogwarts?

Eugene was speechless.

"…Hey, this… this much…?"

George answered while arranging the load.

"Hogwarts has four thousand students total. Plus international students and exchange students… this still won't be enough. Eugene, your size is way too small."

Fred snickered at George's words.

"George, where the hell did you get all this stock?"

Eugene scratched his head and asked George again.

"Same place we always go."

"Diagon Alley? They sell wholesale to you there? Crazy bastards. I was buying little by little from the supermarket on Polyjuice."

"No. The alley next door."

"Knockturn Alley?"

The twins snorted at the same time.

"Bingo!"

Eugene pressed a hand to his forehead. Just the name was weirdly persuasive.

"Kids aren't allowed in, right? Did you take Polyjuice?"

"We're not kids."

"Then what are you?"

"Businessmen."

"But actually Charlie came with us. We give him a little cut of the margin."

Charlie Weasley. Crazy bastard. What the hell was he teaching his little brothers?

"Hey, cigarettes are one thing, but aren't the condoms way too many? People don't know this, but condoms have expiration dates too. You guys are kids so you wouldn't know."

"Eugene, you're a kid too. One year older than us, sure. Why do you act like an adult? Right, George?"

"Yeah, anyone would think you were a thirty-year-old uncle. And Charlie told us. Condoms sell great to the upper years. Where do you think Charlie got the plane ticket money to go all the way to Romania for that interview?"

"You guys are real lunatic brothers."

"Thanks, you're one too, Eugene. We don't start the first morning of term by cursing out and fighting upperclassmen at the station."

"Fine. Enough chitchat. The plan's simple." The one who was probably Fred spoke. "We board first. Eugene, you come ten minutes later."

"Why? We should hide it fast and go."

"If we board together it's too obvious. The three of us are probably already flagged as persons of interest, right? We got caught selling diet eggs last Easter."

"But those actually work for dieting. That's how people eat them in Korea."

George — probably — cut in over Eugene's words.

"Hide the goods in the fourth overhead compartment. It's under an Extension Charm."

"When did you cast an Extension Charm?"

"The older brothers used to use it. They said they put a charm on it so it auto-maintains as long as you re-certify once a year."

"The brothers? Bill did it too?"

"Kind of a family business. Bill even broke a chocolate-making machine into parts and smuggled it in when he was dating Helene Young. Made chocolate with it and sold ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it so they could go on fancy dates. Ah! Percy gets a pass."

"That guy's the type who'd never do it his whole life."

"Exactly. Boring."

"Just reads comics all day. Always nagging."

The three of them snickered at the same time.

"Good. Ten minutes later, car 21."

The twins dragged the trunk away.

Ten minutes later.

Car 1, car 2, car 3…

"Huh? Why is car 6 completely empty? This is usually where they stack the food they sell in the refreshment car. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Did they clear it all out already because they're not open today? What the hell?"

Eugene gave the empty car 6 a puzzled look, then quickened his pace at the shouts of Ministry staff outside the train. And when he opened the door to the very last car, 21—

The twins were there.

"You're here."

"Welcome."

"Close the door, quick."

As Eugene stepped in, George drew his wand.

"Aperio."

A hatch opened in one side of the ceiling.

Fred immediately followed with the next spell.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

Eugene's trunk floated up and vanished into the ceiling.

"Colloportus."

The hatch sealed.

"No traces."

George clapped his hands.

"First checkpoint cleared."

"Hey, want a Chocolate Frog?"

Fred pulled one out.

"Already celebrating?"

"Gotta celebrate still being alive first."

The three of them bit into the chocolate. Sweetness spread through their mouths.

"How much do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we clear if we sell this?"

"About fifty Galleons per transaction."

"For real?"

"Yeah. Split between us, twenty-five each."

"So four hundred Galleons a month? Not bad for pocket money. If we build a long-term distribution network we can do other businesses too."

"What about you?"

"Me? Just for fun."

At Eugene's offhand answer the twins laughed at the same time.

"Eugene, trying to fool us? If you don't want to answer, just say so. What 'for fun'?"

It was peaceful.

Then—

Knock, knock. A rap on the door.

"Student council. Open up."

The voice was low and firm.

All three froze at once.

"…Shit."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know."

"If we don't open it'll look worse."

The door opened.

Blue robes, glasses, a neat badge.

Ravenclaw seventh-year, Huey Randle.

"Routine inspection. Show me the trunks."

Fred spoke as brightly as he could.

"Well, our trunks are up there!"

Eugene pointed at the shelf. There was only one empty bag they had placed there in advance.

Randle's gaze swept the ceiling. He reached out and ran a hand over the bag once. Randle smiled lightly. The air hardened. Randle's hand leisurely brushed the bag.

Ten seconds.

Twenty seconds.

Randle gave a meaningful smile.

"How's Charlie doing? Just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thought of him suddenly."

"Huh? Charlie suddenly? He graduated a while ago."

One of the student council members answered, puzzled by Randle's random remark.

"Just. Suddenly missed him."

Shit, why Charlie all of a sudden… no way?

Sweat beaded on Eugene's palms.

Randle nodded.

"Good. Be careful."

"…Excuse me?"

"I said it's fine. Pass."

The door closed.

Silence.

"What the hell was that."

Fred whispered.

"I don't know."

"Did we get through?"

"Looks like it."

"Whoa… lucky."

The three of them collapsed onto the floor at the same time.

"Whew…"

Their hearts found their proper places again.

Eugene stood.

"I'm heading to my seat."

"With Cedric?"

"Yeah. If I leave him alone he'll sulk."

"Alright. Careful, Smuggler King. We'll go out the other way."

"Okay. Freddy, George. You guys handling the unloading, right? I'm counting on you."

"Between us, of course you can count on us. See you after the Sorting."

Eugene gave a rough goodbye to the twins as they snickered their way toward car 22, then opened the door. A dark, narrow corridor and the door to car 20 came into view; he turned and closed the door to car 21.

Then.

"Kim."

A low, calm voice.

He turned. Huey Randle was standing there. Behind him, more than ten student council members.

"…Yes?"

"Let's talk for a moment."

Randle smiled faintly.

"I heard you got into a fight with someone earlier? That's what this is about. You lot go on ahead. Inspect the luggage hard on the way. Everyone's on edge today."

Randle sent the other student council members toward the forward cars and beckoned to Eugene.

Eugene cursed inwardly.

Ah, that fucking snitch Zacharias. He ran straight to tell on me.

But his face stayed calm. He stepped back into car 21. Randle closed the door.

"Come in and sit down. This won't be short."

It was far too quiet.

Just the two of them left.