By the time Cain stepped out of Dumbledore's office, the castle felt… normal again.
Too normal. The corridors were quieter now, emptied of trunks and chatter. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, warm and lazy, dust motes drifting in the air like nothing in the world had ever been wrong.
Cain descended the moving staircases at an unhurried pace. It was only when he reached the entrance hall and looked out through the tall doors that he realized something was off.
The faint smoke from the Hogwarts Express lingered in the distance, already thinning into the summer sky.
Cain blinked. Then sighed.
"…Of course."
A sharp tap of heels snapped his attention back inside.
Professor McGonagall stood near the doors, arms folded, lips pressed into a thin line that suggested she had already decided she was displeased—even before speaking.
"Mr. Riven," she called sharply, her voice echoing through the hall. "Why are you not on the Hogwarts Express?"
Cain met her stare evenly.
'Senile old man forgot the train schedule,' Cain thought dryly.
Although he couldn't say that out loud, "I was called to the Headmaster's office."
McGonagall's eyes narrowed, "…Of course you were."
She stepped closer, scrutinizing him as if trying to determine whether he'd been responsible for the train leaving.
"How long ago did Professor Dumbledore dismiss you?"
"Just now."
McGonagall closed her eyes. Then inhaled.
"I see," she said. "Well. That explains it."
Cain raised an eyebrow. "Explains what?"
"That Professor Dumbledore," she replied crisply, "once again became engrossed in a philosophical discussion and completely ignored the passage of time."
Cain nodded sympathetically. "Happens to the best of us."
McGonagall shot him a look that suggested it very much did not happen to the best of them.
She turned on her heel. "Come along. There are alternative arrangements."
As they walked, Cain glanced back once at the empty tracks.
The year was over. But somehow, it didn't feel like an ending.
McGonagall spoke without looking at him. "You will be traveling by one of Ministry-approved means. I trust you can manage a short delay without causing… complications."
Cain gave a small smile. "I'll try my best, Professor."
She stopped abruptly and looked at him again.
"Enjoy your summer, Mr. Riven," she said quietly. "You have had… an unusual first year."
Cain met her eyes.
"Yes," he said honestly. "I have."
She nodded once, then continued walking.
Cain followed.
Behind them, Hogwarts castle stood silently.
---
'A flying carriage,' Cain thought, eyeing the skeletal horses harnessed to it.
The carriage itself was old-fashioned and sturdy, its wheels already hovering an inch above the ground. Cain's trunk had been secured inside without his input, which he appreciated.
The driver, a tall man wrapped in heavy traveling robes, adjusted the reins and glanced back at him.
"Destination?"
Cain climbed in, settling onto the worn leather seat.
"Diagon Alley," he said.
The driver nodded once. "Very well."
The Thestrals stirred, wings unfurling with a soft, unsettling rustle. The carriage lifted smoothly, the ground falling away beneath them as Hogwarts shrank into a collection of towers and spires below.
Cain leaned back, watching the castle recede.
He'd walked away from worse places.
As the carriage turned toward London, the wind rushed past, cool and clean. The moment felt… strangely peaceful. Just this movement.
Cain allowed himself a small, quiet breath of relief.
For now, at least, he was just a student heading into summer.
Whatever waited beyond that could wait a little longer.
The Thestrals beat their wings, carrying him forward.
Cain arrived back in Diagon Alley to the familiar chaos of it—crowds weaving between shops, owls swooping overhead, voices calling out prices and greetings.
Cain headed straight through the back entrance and into the Leaky Cauldron.
The pub was busy, loud like he remembered, the air thick with conversation and the smell of food and spilled ale. Tom looked up from behind the bar and broke into a grin the moment he spotted Cain.
"Well, if it isn't our Hogwarts lad," Tom said warmly. "Back already, eh? How was yer first year, kid?"
Cain set his trunk down near the wall and gave a small, genuine smile. "Interesting," he said. "To say the least."
Tom chuckled. "That's usually how it starts."
Cain reached into his pouch, counting out the coins he had left. Not much but he slid them across the counter.
"I'll need a room," Cain said. "Same as before, if it's free."
Tom eyed the coins, then at Cain. "You're short."
Cain nodded calmly. "I know. I can pay half now. The rest once my tuition funds come through."
Tom studied him for a moment, then waved a hand dismissively. "That's fine. You paid proper last time. Room's yours."
Cain let out a quiet breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Thanks."
"Room eleven," Tom said, pocketing the coins. "Try not to destroy anything trying out spell yeh."
"I'll try."
He hauled his trunk upstairs, the familiar creak of the steps oddly comforting. Cain closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed, letting the silence settle.
---
At first, if things were normal, Cain would have spent the summer doing what any sensible transmigrant would do—trying to remember the plot of the second Harry Potter book. Basilisk. Diary. Chamber. Possession. Important details. Useful details.
But things were no longer normal.
After his conversation with Dumbledore, his thoughts refused to stay anchored in Hogwarts' problems. The castle, the Stone, even Potter's inevitable heroics felt… small now. Almost insignificant.
What unsettled him lay elsewhere.
Cain lay back on the narrow bed in Room Eleven, staring at the cracked ceiling as rain pattered faintly against the window.
He thought about the Outer Gods which existed in the world of Elden Ring.
Not gods in the way wizards used the word. Not immortal beings sitting on thrones, throwing lightning when annoyed. The Outer Gods were concepts made sentient. Forces so vast they didn't just rule, they exerted influence on things which weren't even possible. Reality. Life. Death. Even the whole universe was nothing but a playground to them.