"That was—" he began, and then jumped up, throwing his shoulder under Merlin's arm as the big wizard began to collapse. "Ugh! You're—unf!—heavy! What's wrong?"
Merlin struggled to hold himself up. He groaned and clamped a hand to his head as if to keep it on his shoulders. Slowly, he managed to support himself, and leaned against the wall of the engine compartment. James glanced up at him, frowning curiously, and then peered closer.
"What's happened to you?" he asked breathlessly. "You look… old!"
Merlin's face, not exactly young to begin with, was lined with wrinkles. There were heavy, dark circles under his eyes. Even his beard and hair seemed to have grown and become threaded with iron grey. He looked up wearily, saw James' concerned look, and smiled ruefully.
"Twenty years in thirty seconds," he said, his voice dry and cracked. "Losing two decades that quickly does tend to take it out of someone."
James boggled at him. "Where'd you lose it?"
"Right beneath this train," Merlin said, pushing himself up and turning. "Come. I cannot guarantee it'll hold much longer. We need to get everyone off this train, and quickly."
James followed the great sorcerer, and as he did, he felt the strangest sensation; it was as if the engine was swaying slightly, like a tree limb in a stiff breeze. As they clambered over the coal car and into the first passenger compartment, returning to the joyful congratulations of Rose, Ralph, Zane, and Albus, James couldn't help glancing down. The wheels of the train seemed to be choked with fresh green leaves and vines. Butterflies flitted amongst them, their wings flashing in the afternoon sun.
Half an hour later, James stood with the rest of the train's passengers a quarter of a kilometer away, spread along the edge of the gorge. They were awaiting a second train, which had been dispatched to carry them the rest of the way home.
Zane kicked a stone over the ledge and watched it bounce down the crags into the trees below. "What was it like up there in the engine?" he asked James.
"Terrifying," James said with feeling. "I thought we were dead, no question about it."
Rose asked, "Did you see him do it?"
"I saw him do something. I didn't know what he was up to."
"Twenty years' growth in thirty seconds," Albus said wonderingly. "I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't looking at it."
"The thing that amazes me most," Ralph commented, staring out over the gorge, "is that he got the tree to grow in the shape of the tracks!"
Once more, James looked out over the forested gorge between the mountains. From this angle, he could see it clearly. The unfinished train bridge ended less than halfway across. Growing from the end of the bridge, however, spreading another third of the way across, was what appeared to be a giant sequoia tree grown perfectly sideways. The tree was lush with foliage, billowing slightly in the freshening breeze. The Hogwarts Express sat atop it, steam still issuing from its boilers in a long white ribbon.
"He sent twenty years of his own life into making that tree grow," Rose said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Talk about communing with nature."
Zane nodded. "Yeah. He's still down in the hollow right now, 'communing' with the tree sprite of that sequoia. I'm just glad Merlin's the one that gets to explain to that tree how it grew so fast," he said, grinning. "And why it's got a steam train sitting on its trunk."
James, Rose, and Albus sat in the tall grass of the yard, blinking disconsolately in the morning sunlight. Nearby, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione stood talking quietly. James looked up, peering along the length of the dirt drive.
"See anyone?" Albus asked, kicking his heel in the grass.
James shook his head. "They're late."
"Why should they hurry?" Albus griped. "They already paid for it. All they have to do is sign the papers and get the key. Not that they'll ever use it."
"I wish this was all over," Rose said, sighing sadly. "I know it was my idea to come and say goodbye to the Burrow, but now that I'm here, I can barely look at the old place. Just knowing the new owners are going to tear it down…"
"Grandma and Lily are looking into flats in the city," James commented. "That could be nice. It'll be easy for her to take care of, and we could go see her whenever we want."
Albus muttered, "It won't be the same. Not without the Burrow."
James sighed. George and Angelina's wedding had been the day before, and, not surprisingly, it had been a very spirited affair. Everyone had been there, including Hagrid, Neville, and even Professor McGonagall. The former Headmistress had even danced a little, which had left the students slack-jawed with amazement. By contrast, sitting in the yard of the Burrow for the last time, waiting for the new owners to come and take it over, felt particularly disheartening. "A beginning almost always means an ending," James' dad had said as they got ready that morning, but James hadn't found that particularly comforting. Not for the first time, James found himself thinking of the final dream he'd had when he'd still had the phantom scar; the dream in which a somewhat grown-up Albus had given his wand to the young woman—Petra?—In the graveyard, who had proceeded to launch the Dark Mark and then turn the wand back on him. Obviously, that had never happened, and yet James simply couldn't shake the feeling that it was a sort of prophecy or prediction. Tabitha had told James that Albus was a boy with great potential, and that, James felt sure, had not been a bluff. Tabitha believed it. What did it all mean? James gazed at his brother in the sunlight—his brother, who bore the names of both a great Gryffindor and a great Slytherin, who looked so very much like his father, the Boy Who Lived.
"Here they come," Rose said morosely.
James followed Rose's gaze and saw a cloud of dust approaching from the end of the drive.
The three stood and brushed themselves off as the vehicle neared. They walked slowly over to stand by their parents. Harry squinted and adjusted his glasses.
"They have a different car than the one they drove to the bank," he commented.
Ginny said, "You would notice that, Mr. Auror."
"Must be nice," Ron mumbled. "Buying a house and a new car all in the same week."
"Shh," Hermione said, but without much feeling.
Harry was frowning slightly. "That's not exactly a new car. In fact…" Suddenly, his face broke into a wondering grin. "I'll be a hinkypunk's uncle…"
"What?" Albus asked, standing on tiptoes and shielding his eyes from the sun.
James looked as well. As the vehicle rolled closer, he could see that it was certainly not a new car. It was, in fact, very old but carefully restored. It bounced and jogged on the uneven path, winking sunlight off its chrome bumper and huge windscreen.
"It's the Anglia!" Rose cried, jumping up and down, clapping her hands. "Granddad's Anglia! But how?"