Nineteen Years Later
After dropping the kids off at King’s Cross, Harry and Ginny head back to the taxi with Lily.
“I hope he remembered to pack that new underwear I got him,” Ginny says, fidgeting with the seatbelt. It’s one of the few Muggle contraptions that are still a complete mystery for her; no wizarding form of transportation uses seatbelts. Her daughter helps her, rolling her eyes. “It was lying out on his bed this morning.”
“If he does, we can just owl it to him with a howler screaming, ‘YOU FORGOT YOUR UNDERWEAR!’ A great way to make new friends.” Harry glances at the teeming parking behind him as the cab inches away. “Wonder why King’s Cross was so packed with Muggles today. It’s not usually this crowded.”
Ginny stares at him. “Harry, it’s because of you.”
“What?”
“Those books about you. The Muggles love them. They came here because they knew we’d be here today.”
“I don’t understand,” Harry says. “The Muggles think those books are fiction. Why would they come all the way out here if they don’t believe I’m real?”
Ginny lays her hand on his arm, and the twinkle in her eyes reminds him of someone he knew long ago. “Well, as someone wise once said, just because it’s happening inside their heads doesn’t mean it’s not real.”