To Muggles, London's oldest pubs were the White Hart in Drury Lane, the Angel in Bermondsey Wall East, or the Lamb and Flag on Rose Street.
But to wizards, the Leaky Cauldron was London's oldest pub, because it had been built far earlier than those three Muggle establishments.
And this pub served other functions as well.
Every September 1st, the day Hogwarts began its term, the pub was packed to the brim.
That was because most British wizards loved making things difficult—or rather, they were old-fashioned.
They clearly had the convenient Floo Network.
Yet Platform Nine and Three-Quarters had no connection to it.
Unless one's family was wealthy enough to own a house near King's Cross Station, or in a nearby Muggle neighborhood.
If young wizards from ordinary wizarding families did not take the Knight Bus and their families did not own a car.
They could only use the Floo Network to reach the oldest pub on Charing Cross Road—the Leaky Cauldron.
Then they had to take a car or train to King's Cross Station.
They would walk straight through the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten to reach the platform where the train bound for Hogwarts waited.
Basil was a victim of this custom.
He got up when dawn had barely broken.
Pushing his trolley and bringing Snowy Owl Fenda with him, he stepped into a fireplace sprinkled with Floo Powder.
Of course, for safety reasons, his home's Door Key was still kept in the entrance hall.
He had exited through the cave's main gate, trudged a full mile, and arrived beneath the redwood tree.
Then, carrying his trunk, he climbed the long flight of stairs lowered by the redwood.
He arrived before the fireplace in the treehouse.
So, as the pub owner Tom wiped glasses and chatted with a small man in a top hat.
He suddenly saw the flames in the fireplace turn green and surge upward.
Out stepped a blond boy with a gloomy face and vacant eyes.
He recognized the boy's origins at once.
Little Basil, who had often come to Diagon Alley to play before his grandmother passed away.
That sunny, cheerful boy who had always worn a smile now looked like this.
Tom wiped away his tears with a dirty rag.
Then he hurried out from behind the bar, ran toward Basil, and grabbed his hand.
"Kid, are you all right? You're heading to the station today, aren't you? I'll take you!"
Basil looked utterly bewildered. Before he could refuse.
The old man before him, nearly bald and shaped like a shriveled walnut, turned to the small man and said:
"Diego! Watch the shop for now. I'm taking this kid to the station!"
Ten minutes later, Basil had already reached Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, his hands full of snacks.
And with seven extra Galleons in his pocket, he was still completely bewildered.
Old Tom had given him too much. He simply could not refuse.
He had already planned his route—board at Paddington Station, get off at King's Cross Station.
And while he was at it, wait around King's Cross Station for Harry and become Harry's first friend!
He could earn gems while figuring out how to obtain Harry's Echo through friendship.
But.
"Does this mean I'm not short on money anymore?"
Galleons had considerable purchasing power.
These seven gold Galleons could cover a year of expenses if spent solely on daily necessities like rice, flour, grain, and cooking oil.
"No! Gilderoy Lockhart."
"And that old bastard!" His eyes narrowed, his words brimming with murderous intent.
Lockhart's books were expensive, and he had to buy seven of them at once!
If things really followed the plot.
Basil's already poor family would be even worse off!
Another line appeared among the must-do tasks for the school year in his mind.
Expose Lockhart as a fraud to everyone!
After all, he had no need to preserve the plot.
The more dramatically the timeline deviated, the more gems he would receive!
"Speaking of gems... if I get to know more people, will I receive more gems?"
"And does this count as making friends?"
He checked the time. It was only ten o'clock.
There was still an hour before departure.
"Don't miss out, folks!"
"Are you tossing and turning because you've entered an unfamiliar magical world?"
"Are you restless because you're leaving your parents?"
"Are you worried that you'll fail the entrance test and have to go straight back home?"
Harry felt that the blond boy among the crowd seemed especially approachable.
Every word felt as if it had spoken directly to his heart.
And perhaps he had reached the station so smoothly because of that boy, too.
Time rewound ten minutes.
Ten-thirty in the morning, London, King's Cross Station.
The Dursleys had been in a hurry to get Dudley's pig tail removed at the hospital.
After throwing a few casual insults at Harry, they had dumped him between Platforms Nine and Ten.
He was about to try asking a guard for directions.
When a group of people passed behind him.
The occasional phrase drifted into his ears.
"Too bad George isn't here. Platform Nine and Three-Quarters is really lively right now. A relative of Finn Granger, president of the Extraordinary Association..."
Harry quickly turned around and saw that the speaker was a Black boy with dreadlocks, talking to four other boys.
They were all pushing trunks as well.
One after another, they passed through the barrier and vanished from sight.
So he copied those boys and walked straight into the barrier.
Then he arrived at the Platform Nine and Three-Quarters written on his ticket.
He saw a crowd surrounding that blond boy as though they had found their savior.
The boy possessed an inexplicable air of authority, yet he also seemed extremely approachable.
As a result, several older students who had wanted to rush over and interrupt instinctively stopped in their tracks.
"My friends, you don't need to worry about any of that!"
"Because I-have-arrived!"
"Now that I'm here, Hogwarts will have sunny days!"
"Recommended extracurricular reading for Years One through Seven!"
A girl with thick brown hair and two large front teeth stepped out from the crowd.
"I'll take one. How much?"
The blond boy pulled out a piece of parchment.
"One Sickle, my friend!"
The blond boy continued.
"A relationship map of influential figures in the Ministry of Magic."
A voice sounded behind Harry.
"I'll take one!"
He spun around and discovered that it belonged to a tall, thin redheaded boy.
The boy strode away from his family and toward the blond boy.
"You'd better not try anything funny. I'm a prefect!"
The blond boy nodded and pulled out another piece of parchment.
"Of course, my friend. Honest prices for all! Two Sickles!"
Harry stared at the scene, dumbfounded.
Especially when he noticed the boy's pockets gradually becoming stuffed.
His insides began to twitch for no apparent reason.
Were young wizards in the magical world all this capable?
Had he been admitted to Hogwarts too hastily?
Should he attend preschool for a year before coming here?
Harry's thoughts ran wild.
It was not until a voice sounded beside his ear that he came back to his senses.
"Pretty enviable, isn't it? I never thought of doing that!"
Harry turned his head. The speaker was a redheaded boy with freckles all over his face, large hands and feet, a long nose, and a tall, skinny frame.
If he remembered correctly, the boy should have been related to the one who called himself a prefect.
The boy stared fixedly at the blond boy's pockets, his eyes full of longing.
"I can't believe someone actually got Percy to part with his money."
"Yeah." Harry nodded.
A smile unknowingly appeared at the corners of his mouth.
Making a new friend was undoubtedly a good start.
The unknown magical world and Hogwarts were surely going to be wonderful.
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