The Resurrected Man and the Train

As Anthony stepped into the church, he instinctively made the sign of the cross, mirroring the mayor's actions, before realizing the incongruity of the gesture and lowering his hand with a bemused smile.

The church door creaked open, causing the flame of the candle before the icon to flicker precariously. The air was thick with the distinctive scent of old churches—a blend of damp bricks, decaying wood, and the lingering fragrance of frankincense from burning candles.

He turned to the students behind him and whispered, "Take off your hats and try not to talk. Imagine Professor McGonagall standing behind that pulpit." He pointed to the raised platform at the front of the church.

The students, now more cautious, shuffled in quietly, their eyes wide as they took in their surroundings.

In the dim light, rows of worn pews stretched out before them. The figure of Jesus, depicted as the Son of God and the Son of Man, hung nailed to a wooden cross. As they approached, the sunlight filtering through the tall windows revealed the aged wood of the statue, marred by a black stain on the nose and a chipped toe.

"Why is that man on the pillar?" one student whispered. "Is it because of a witch hunt?"

Another student responded softly, "I don't know, but it seems we're usually tied up. He was nailed."

"Isn't it pretty much the same thing?" a third student added, eyeing the figure. "He looks like he's dead."

Anthony quickly motioned for silence. "He is indeed dead," he whispered.

Suddenly, a voice joined the conversation, catching everyone off guard. "If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved." The students turned in surprise to see a man dressed as a clergyman standing in the side corridor, his presence unnoticed until that moment.

The students began whispering again, this time about the priest's attire: "Is he a fat monk?" "Sort of similar, but not quite the same."

"For with the heart one believes and is justified; with the mouth, one confesses and is saved," Anthony replied, turning to the priest with a nod and a smile. "Hello, we are travelers passing by."

The mayor, speaking loudly, chimed in, "The wind is strong outside, and it looks like it's going to rain, Father! They're catching the 10:43 train, so they're just waiting here."

"Jesus rebuked the wind, and it stopped," the priest replied, nodding to everyone before retreating quietly into the shadows.

The students watched in silence as the priest disappeared into the darkness. The mayor settled onto a wooden bench, which groaned under his weight, then quickly covered a burp with his hand. "I'm sorry," he muttered, then nodded toward the side corridor. "Our priest, what's his name... he came here just last year. I think he's a student fresh out of some seminary."

Anthony smiled and said, "I heard it."

A student asked Anthony in confusion, "Professor, what is 'resurrection from the dead'?"

Anthony turned to look at the mayor, and seeing that he didn't find the question strange, he explained quietly, "The man in front is Jesus of Nazareth—the one you sometimes hear people exclaiming 'Jesus' about. He... well, it's a bit complicated. In short, he was crucified and died." He added, "It has nothing to do with witch hunts. He lived long before Merlin."

"Oh." the student sighed softly, glancing at the wood carvings in the church, trying to imagine a man older than Merlin.

"Then his body was placed in a stone cave. Three days later, people found that the stone blocking the cave's entrance had been moved, and he appeared before them again."

"What? How is that possible?" one student blurted out. "Does he have Phoenix blood?"

"No one can have Phoenix blood," another student retorted, glancing at the mayor and then at Anthony. "It's impossible."

Anthony pondered whether Phoenixes even had a gender, and if so, how it might be determined. Then he realized that this was a magical world, and biological rules might not apply. After all, in the magical world, a rooster's egg could turn into a regular chicken, a Basilisk, or even a hearty breakfast, depending on the magic involved.

"It could be a case of faked death," suggested a student who was well-read in romance novels. "There are poisons that can stop breathing, potions that simulate death by stopping the heartbeat, or maybe he just fainted, but was mistaken for dead. Many novels talk about this."

"Yeah, maybe he faked his death," another student chimed in, "and then Apparated to another place."

The romance novel expert gave the student who mentioned Apparition a sharp look and hissed, "Shh!" She subtly gestured toward the mayor, urging caution.

The mayor, seemingly oblivious, was swinging his feet and humming a gospel song under his breath. The tune was off-key, and Anthony could only make out a few vague phrases like "your lamb," "fisherman," and "joy," though the lyrics were jumbled. He distinctly heard the mayor sing, "Heaven and earth will last forever, but your words will die again," which didn't seem quite right.

"Professor?" the student prompted.

Anthony shook his head and replied, "Don't ask me, I really don't know what's going on."

He thought that if he truly knew the secret of resurrection and revealed it in a church, he might either end up as a cardinal fulfilling a prophecy or as a headline in the Daily Prophet, with something like, "Man Admitted to St. Mungo's: Claims 'God is Dead' or 'Jesus is Alive'?" accompanied by a subheading, "Injured Preaching Heresy in a Church."

"But Professor," Stinson asked, "if he came back to life, why is there still a statue of him dying?"

"Well, it's a religious symbol," Anthony explained with a smile. "But anyway, that's why we have the Easter holiday."

…

To Anthony's surprise, the students remained intrigued by the story of the man on the cross. Even as they arrived at the train station platform, they were still discussing the man who inspired Christmas and Easter.

Wizards generally weren't religious—Anthony didn't mind that; he didn't expect any prayers before meals or bedtime—but they did celebrate Christian holidays.

At first, Anthony didn't think this was unusual. It wasn't until he saw Christmas cards with glittering angels in Diagon Alley shops that he started wondering why Hogwarts celebrated church holidays.

When he brought up the question to Professor Burbage at a restaurant, she offered a straightforward explanation.

"Because at Christmas, the church wasn't out hunting witches," Professor Burbage said. "That alone is worth celebrating. But more importantly, we like to celebrate holidays. Don't you enjoy turkey, cake, Christmas gingerbread, and time off?"

Anthony had to admit that he did.

...

The students were clearly enjoying themselves, especially those from pure-blood wizarding families who usually didn't give much thought to the origins of their holidays. As the heavy raindrops began to pelt down and the railway tracks trembled, the train finally emerged from the tunnel. By this point, the students had mostly reached a consensus: if a person could bring about two holidays, then perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to allow him to slightly bend the rules of magic and be resurrected.

After all, if they denied Jesus's resurrection, they would also have to deny Easter—and, consequently, their holiday. It was a simple logical inference and an easy choice.

...

While waiting for the train to stop, Anthony handed out tickets to the students and reminded them to be mindful of their identities when finding their seats.

"Try to find an empty compartment. Don't eat Honeydukes' special candies, don't play wizard chess, and don't play Gobstones or Exploding Snap, okay?"

"Then what should we do, Professor?" a student asked sadly. "Have a contest to see who can hold their breath the longest?"

"It's not impossible if you enjoy that sort of thing," Anthony said with a grin. "Or you could read a book."

"Can I work on my essay, Professor?" asked a student as he stepped into an empty compartment. His hand was already on the handle leading to the next compartment, clearly eager to escape his classmates.

Anthony nodded. "Sure. But if someone peeks at what you're writing, you can scold them for invading your privacy."

"Great," the student replied, looking forward to the possibility of someone trying to peek at his work.

"Just don't be too obvious," Anthony added as he stepped onto the train. "I really hope everyone has a good time and enjoys a train ride different from the ones you're used to. But if something happens that we'd rather avoid, and someone asks, do you remember what to say?"

"We remember, Professor Anthony," the student said, grinning. "We're students at a regular boarding school."

Anthony nodded approvingly. "Exactly. This journey isn't long. I'll be walking up and down the train, so you can call me if you need anything." He gave one last warning, "I'll do my best not to interfere, but please, don't make things difficult for me, okay?"

"Okay, Professor," the students chorused.

...

After counting the students who had boarded, Anthony finally entered the carriage. The door closed behind him with a jolt, and the train began to move. Rain lashed against the windows, blurring the landscape outside into a flowing river of gray. Anthony half-hoped that the weather in Edinburgh would be better, or that the Botanic Gardens' events would mostly be indoors. But in the UK, bad weather was almost a certainty, and one had to be prepared for it.

After ensuring that the students in the first carriage were content with rummaging through the emergency escape equipment, Anthony made his way to the back of the train.

As he entered the next carriage, he was startled to see the student who had wanted to work on his essay pulling a massive, gilded tome out of his bag. The passenger next to him, who was reading a pocket-sized book, was struggling to hide his astonishment as he tried to figure out how such a large book could fit into a compact bag.

Anthony hurried over and gently stopped the student from pulling out parchment, quill, and ink.

"Professor?" the student asked, puzzled.

Anthony knelt down and whispered, "What's the most common writing tool Muggles use?"

"Pens and pencils," the student replied promptly. "Artists use brushes and crayons."

"Good," Anthony nodded. "And what were you just about to do?"

"I...oh." The student suddenly realized his mistake and quickly pushed the quill to the bottom of his bag.

Anthony glanced around, meeting the curious gaze of the passenger next to them. He smiled warmly, and the passenger returned the smile before politely returning to his book.

Seizing the moment, Anthony discreetly transformed the quill into a pencil and the parchment into a notebook with a flick of his wand, then quickly stowed his wand away.

"Don't try to study on the train," he advised the student, who was now looking at him with wide eyes. "You might end up getting a warning letter from the Ministry."

"Okay, Professor," the student said, a bit disappointed but still smiling. He calmly pulled out a small notebook and pencil from his bag.

Anthony whispered, "Write what you need, and I'll help you format it properly when we're back at school."

...

Further back in the train, a student was already deep in conversation with the woman sitting next to her. She was listening sympathetically as the woman complained about having to wake up early every morning to cook for her family, drive her children to school, and then rush to work, only to be reprimanded by her boss for arriving exactly on time.

Anthony could tell that the student didn't fully understand half of the vocabulary being used, but her genuine concern had clearly won the woman over.

"Really?" the student asked, wide-eyed. "I've never heard of anything like that!"

The woman patted the student's hand kindly. "That's right, dear. I pray you never have such bad luck in your life. And speaking of bad luck, you wouldn't believe the couple next door to me. Their children go to the same school I mentioned earlier, but the wife is much luckier—her family hired a servant to clean and pick up the children every day…"

The student listened intently, occasionally exclaiming, "Wow, really?" Anthony smiled at her, nodding approvingly, and didn't interrupt her as she continued gathering insights into Muggle life.

…

Note 1: The passages quoted by the priest and Anthony are from the Book of Romans and are contextually relevant.

Note 2: The reference to Jesus calming the storm is from the Gospel of Mark.

Note 3: The misquoted line by the mayor is a humorous twist on a biblical phrase, reflecting his poor memory of the scriptures.