Earth's orbit was filled with an enormous number of satellites and pieces of space debris. One couldn't simply take off and fly into space, even if one's technology made it possible. A launch window had to be calculated and the craft had to take off at precisely the right moment so that, for example, it didn't collide with a satellite. Of course, that wasn't the only consideration; there were other nuances as well. But the fact remained that the spaceport absolutely needed its radar station.
Communications with the Phoenix itself, meanwhile, had been established by the wizards using the Protean Charm. Nor were these primitive wizarding means of communication such as enchanted pieces of parchment. This was a proper data link between the shipboard AI and its ground-based counterpart. Video, audio, readings from sensors and enchantments—the full spectrum of data.
Richard was in a hurry. He intended to generate as much publicity for his company as possible before leaving for Hogwarts. Consequently, the Phoenix made its maiden launch on the thirty-first of August. The occasion was suitably ceremonial: leading journalists, members of the Royal Family, the boy's father, and even Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II herself had been invited.
Richard's speech had been written by the finest speechwriters. Thanks to his excellent memory, he delivered it from memory, with deliberate pacing and expression, under the gaze of countless television cameras and camera lenses.
The Phoenix lifted off without incident, prompting a storm of delight from those watching. And no one except members of the Royal Family knew that the cosmonauts aboard were actually wizards. As far as everyone else was concerned, British astronauts were heading into space. Until then, there had only ever been two, and both had flown aboard American and Soviet spacecraft.
For Britain, the launch was an event of worldwide significance. The first British spacecraft—and not merely a spacecraft, but an experimental one unlike anything possessed by anyone else. And everyone who actually understood the subject couldn't have cared less what principles made it work: magic, technology, even bloody shamanism. It had taken off—that was already good enough. To most people, the flight of an aeroplane might as well have been magic, let alone that of a rocket, yet people used aeroplanes without a second thought.
At last, the hectic summer drew to an end. On the first of September, Grosvenor Junior happily boarded a carriage of the red steam train. He was looking forward to what seemed like a holiday to him—studying at a school of witchcraft and wizardry, compared with the frantic working days of his summer holidays.
Richie settled comfortably into the first compartment of the third carriage from the rear of the train. Third-year students passed by and greeted him, and he returned their greetings. Then another student slowly shuffled past the compartment. She moved like a zombie: her feet dragged as she walked, her shoulders sagged, and her gaze remained fixed on the floor.
Richard recognised the girl by her dishevelled chestnut-brown hair and called out:
"Hermione, hello!"
Granger froze. Slowly, she turned back. Richard noticed his friend's sickly pale complexion and haggard appearance.
Hermione stood in the doorway for a moment, then swayed towards the compartment.
Richie sprang to his feet and helped his friend inside, supporting her by the elbow. Hermione flopped wearily onto the seat and took off her pink glasses. When she looked at Richard, the boy was horrified by her appearance. Red eyes with dark circles beneath them stared back at him. The girl's skin looked not merely pale, but almost greenish.
"My God, Hermione, what happened to you?" Grosvenor exclaimed in horror. "Have you been bitten by zombies or something?"
"I did it..." Granger said slowly in a quiet, exhausted voice.
"Did what?"
In the space of a second, Richard managed to imagine all manner of dreadful things. The memories of the bloodied and dismembered corpse of a house-elf were still fresh in his mind.
"Did you kill someone?" he switched to a hushed whisper.
Hermione feebly shook her head.
"No," she answered quietly. "I passed my Year Ten exams..."
A deathly silence descended upon the compartment. Richard simply couldn't reconcile his friend's appearance with the news that had just come out of her mouth.
"Exams?" Grosvenor's eyebrows shot upwards.
"Yes," Hermione nodded. "Exams..."
"Er..." Richard was utterly bewildered. "Exams?!"
"Well, yes," Hermione replied hoarsely. "Who knew learning an entire year's school curriculum in two months would be so difficult... I must have downed several buckets of Wit-Sharpening Potion over the summer to improve my memory."
"Oh!" Richie sat down beside the girl and leaned back against the seat. "Hermione, I know exactly how you feel. The first time I decided to sit my exams early, it took me two months to learn all the material as well. It was an extremely rash decision. Yeah... After that, I decided never to give myself such a punishing schedule again."
Hermione looked pleadingly at Richard and whispered loudly:
"Finish me off."
"Hermione, if you've still got enough strength to joke, things can't be that bad. How long have you been awake?"
"I haven't exactly had time for sleep these past couple of days..."
"Then, my dear Hermione, you'd better go to sleep. And I'll guard your slumber. In fact, I'll lock the compartment right now so no one disturbs you."
"What about your friends?" Hermione asked wearily.
"They'll understand."
Richard didn't remain in one place for long. He locked Hermione inside the compartment and went for a walk through the train. After chatting with numerous acquaintances and making his way through almost the entire train, he was surprised to discover that Harry Potter and the entire Weasley family were nowhere to be found.
As soon as Richard had made certain that neither Harry nor any of the Weasleys were aboard the train, he immediately called Potter on his wizardphone.
"Richie, we missed the train!" Harry blurted out the moment he answered.
At first Richard was taken aback by the rapid-fire delivery and sheer force of the announcement, but he quickly recovered.
"Good afternoon, Harry. I noticed. Who exactly is 'we'?"
"Well..." Potter drawled. "Me, Ron, Fred, George, Percy and Ginny."
"Curious. Harry, how did you end up with them, and why did you miss the train?"
(End of Chapter)
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