62 CH62 - London's Calling

The Hogwart's Express repeatedly blew its whistle, indicating its arrival in London to the few that had managed to remain asleep through the commotion of the students getting ready to disembark. The train had yet to come to a complete stop when the first of its passengers began to jump off of it. The station was bustling, filled with parents calling for their children and trying to find them among the hubbub. The noise was ear-shattering, a testament to the resilience of the secrecy wards around the entrance to platform 9 3/4.

Amidst all the chaos, Edmund tried to find his bearings to no avail. In such a densely populated location, his mind sense was useless, becoming a hindrance instead of an aid. He had to rely on his native senses to navigate, making him ever the more grateful for his above-average height.

From the corner of his eyes, he watched a tall man snatch up the tiny Luna from the throng, laughing delightfully as he threw her up in the air after sneakily applying a featherweight charm. His dishevelled appearance, combined with the light reflecting on a distinctive metallic pendant around his neck, gave away his identity: Xenophilius Lovegood. He peppered Luna with questions rapidly, who responded to his inquiries with an equal amount of eagerness. Edmund could barely wave to her through a small gap in the crowd before the father-daughter pair were swept away in the outbound traffic.

Turning his attention to the opposite direction, his gaze fell upon Elspeth, who was slinking past the rush on the outskirts. Edmund knew from previous conversation that she was planning to get home by herself using the tube, which meant she was not obligated to wait for anyone. He gave her a slight, almost imperceptible nod, receiving a similar gesture back. Their relationship, to everyone else's knowledge, was limited to the occasional interaction at their house table. Giving any more of an acknowledgement to her would thus be a red flag that both of them knew not to raise.

Once he finally got to an open enough space to relax, Edmund pushed his trunk to the side before clasping Ben's hand with his own and pulling him into an embrace. "Are you all set?" he asked yet again.

"Yes, you mother hen," Ben rolled his eyes. "It might be your first time returning here, but it's my third. My family's used to waiting outside at this point. They'll be more worried if you make me late, so relax, would you?"

Edmund scoffed, giving the other boy a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Alright, alright. I got it."

"I'll see you soon enough," Ben smiled. "I want to come back to Diagon Alley a couple of times. I'll probably meet you on the Knight Bus."

"Yes, you will," Edmund saluted.

"Take care till then," Ben said.

"I will. You too!" Edmund shouted from behind him, Ben only raising his hand in response to let him know he had heard him.

All the while, Jeremy had been scanning the area meticulously, only briefly pausing his search to say his own farewell to their friend. However, after Ben had left, a frown slowly grew on his face. "I don't see them," he admitted. "Gimme a sec. I'll be right back."

Edmund hummed in understanding.

Cecilia's arm shot up in the air the next instant as she signalled her position to those who had come to pick her up.

"C'mon!" she tugged on his sleeve. "You can come to say hello to my father and grandmother in the meantime."

Without releasing her hold on his robes, Cecilia expertly guided Edmund to the back corner of the platform. The spot was the farthest away from both the entrance and the train, making it far less sparsely occupied than anywhere else.

There, Edmund found a familiar silvery-haired woman sitting in a plush armchair, a younger blonde man standing to her right. The duo's mood lit up as they caught sight of Cecilia, though Edmund noticed the older lady's stare turn calculative when she noticed him.

He gave the family their privacy as they briefly caught up, looking each other over to ensure they were alright. It was only several minutes later that Cecilia brought up the matter of his presence as she gestured for him to step up next to her.

"Papa, grandma, this is my friend I was telling you about," she began, nudging him sharply to continue.

"My name is Edmund Cole. Pleased to meet you, Lord Burke, Dowager Burke," he bowed slightly to each of them.

"Please," Cecilia's father dismissed his formal proceedings with a wary smile. "Call me Benedict."

The man looked uncomfortable extending such a courtesy to one below his station, but his daughter's happiness seemed paramount to him.

"Thank you, Benedict," Edmund replied graciously, recognizing the courtesy for what it was.

"So," the old noblewoman interrupted without care. "You're the mudblood my granddaughter has been raving about... Hmmm. A handsome lad with decent magical talent and a good head on his shoulders. If only you had some renown, I would have granted you permission to court Cecilia instantly."

The girl in question blushed, turned red in anger, then spluttered and became rageful. Benedict opened his mouth to tell his mother to refrain from her comments before he seemed to think better. Instead, he sighed in defeat, resolved to watch events painfully unfold in front of him.

Ignoring the flurry of emotions dancing across Cecilia's face, Edmund focused on the dowager. "That's me. Though, why you would ever believe that Cecilia would ask permission before 'courting' someone is beyond me. That doesn't sound like the girl I know at all."

A faint upturn of the woman's lips occurred in response to his jest, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

Her expression was followed by a strange sensation attempting to invade Edmund's body, a feeling he identified as foreign magic. Glancing inwards, he tried to deduce the purpose of the spell that had been cast on him. Once he was sure of its objective, he expelled it from his body but followed its instructions regardless.

Edmund's eyes locked with Cecilia's grandmother's, and a subtle probe immediately entered his mind... Directly into the mental cage he had created with all his memories pertaining to Cecilia.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

He allowed the woman to peruse the strands he had put forth, but his patience waned as soon as she was done.

He ejected her from his mind with force, causing her to be sent flying back against her recliner, her pupils widening with shock and blood trickling from her nose because of the intensity of his counterattack.

Edmund's face remained completely neutral, just as it had been before, save for the slight hint of satisfaction in his eyes.

She began cackling then, soft and slow but gaining in intensity.

As Cecilia berated her grandmother with a snarl, Benedict paused anxiously, clearly having realized what had just occurred. "I apologize for my mother, she—"

"She did the same thing I would have done if I were in her position," Edmund forestalled the man. "It's quite alright."

By then, the older woman was howling with laughter, standing up shakily on her own two feet, barely stabilized by her son and granddaughter on either side of her. The conjured seat behind her was swiftly dismissed as she leaned closer to Edmund.

"I like you, boy! You may call me Ava," she grinned, all teeth, before being escorted away, still laughing all the same.

Cecilia turned around to give him one last apologetic look, but Edmund smiled warmly at her, letting her know it was alright.

'That was... interesting,' he decided.

He was given no further time to reflect on the interaction before his awareness was drawn elsewhere because of his name being shouted from somewhere in the crowd.

'Jeremy,' Edmund determined, pushing his way through to reach the source of the voice.

When he found the boy, it was to see him standing between an older man and a woman whose looks seemed to have been perfectly blended to create him. There was no doubt where Jeremy got each of his features from, so easily distinguishable were they.

Jeremy's mother was the first to step forward; her hand extended for a shake. "Cynthia Todd, this one here's mum," she introduced as she pointed at her son.

"Edmund Cole," he greeted back, though he felt somewhat distracted.

'That voice... why is it so familiar?' he questioned himself.

Apparently, his thoughts were transparent on his face, for Jeremy chuckled smugly. "I told you he would notice."

"Yes, yes, you were right," Cynthia chuckled fondly before addressing Edmund again. "You might know me better as Cynthia Langdon. I didn't bother changing my stage name after I got married. I was too used to the way it sounded rolling off my tongue."

'That's right,' Edmund's mind flared with recollection as all he knew about that name came to the forefront of his mind.

Cynthia Langdon was one of the hosts of the most popular morning program in magical Britain on the Wizarding Wireless. The show was the go-to place to advertise new products, make big announcements from the ministry, and more. Its broad reach was unlike anything else on the air, making it well renowned. Cynthia, in particular, was a rather famous personality known for asking the toughest questions of the guests on the shows. Many a politician had been sent into a tizzy because of her, and her honesty and attitude were something the public duly appreciated her for.

"You didn't tell me that," Edmund raised his eyebrows at Jeremy.

"You never asked, numbskull," he replied with a grin.

"If I'm a numbskull, what does that make you?" Edmund muttered under his breath.

"Hey! What'd you say? You better—" Jeremy retorted.

"Boys...," Cynthia said exasperatedly. Her voice had the quality that made it sound stern and disappointed all at once, causing the two to quiet down.

A booming chortle cut in as Jeremy's father spoke up for the first time. "That's my wife. She's got the ability to make you feel bad about something with a single word," he beamed. "I remember when I first met her. She walked into my shop, complaining about how the mokeskin I used to make my products came from the farms of a house associated with Death Eater activity. Didn't let me get a single word in."

"Hush, you. You know you love it," Cynthia shushed her husband with a teasing smile.

"You bet I do. I'm whipped, as the kids would say," he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "The name's Albert Todd, of Todd's Trunks," he continued with a nod at Edmund.

"Mom, dad," Jeremy whined. "Why do you always have to do this kind of stuff here."

Both laughed in a tone only replicable by parents who had successfully embarrassed their children for the millionth time.

Edmund watched the byplay with a faint smile. "Glad to see I'm not the only one who likes getting under his skin."

"Oh, Merlin, no," Albert winked.

"You're in good company," Cynthia reassured.

Jeremy released a long-suffering sigh, causing everyone to laugh.

'This summer won't be so bad,' Edmund decided.