A Bustling Platform 9 and 3/4

To Muggles, London's oldest pubs were the White Hart on Drury Lane, the Angel in Bermondsey's沃尔 Road, or the Lamb and Flag on Rose Street.

But to wizards, the Leaky Cauldron was London's oldest pub, as it was built much earlier than the three Muggle pubs mentioned.

And this pub had other functions too.

Every September 1st, the opening day of Hogwarts, the pub would be packed.

This was because wizards in Britain were either fond of causing trouble or were traditionalists.

They had the convenient Floo Network.

But Platform 9¾ had no connection to it.

Unless they owned a house near King's Cross Station, or in a Muggle neighborhood around it.

For young wizards from ordinary wizarding families, if they didn't take the Knight Bus and didn't have their own car.

Their only option was to use the Floo Network to reach this oldest pub, the Leaky Cauldron, located on Charing Cross Road.

Then, they would take a car or train to King's Cross Station.

They would walk straight through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 to reach the platform where the train to Hogwarts was waiting.

Basil was a victim of this custom.

He woke up as soon as it was dawn.

Pushing his trolley, he took Snowy Owl Fenda and stepped into the fireplace dusted with Floo Powder.

Of course, for safety, the Door Key to his home was still in the entryway.

He walked out of the cave's entrance, walked a full mile, and arrived under the redwood tree.

Then, carrying his luggage, he climbed the long ladder that the redwood tree lowered.

He arrived in front of the fireplace in the treehouse.

So, as the pub owner, Tom, wiped glasses and chatted with a short man in a top hat.

He suddenly saw the fireplace flames turn green and shoot up.

A blond boy with a dejected face and vacant eyes emerged.

He recognized the boy's origin at a glance.

It was young Basil, who used to visit Diagon Alley often before his grandmother passed away.

This boy, who was always smiling and cheerful, was now like this.

He wiped his tears with a dirty rag.

He quickly came out from behind the bar, ran towards Basil, and grabbed his hand.

"Child, are you alright! You're going to the station today, right! I'll take you!"

Basil was stunned. Before he could refuse, the old man with almost no hair, who looked like a shriveled walnut, turned his head and said to the little man:

"Diego! You watch the shop for a bit, I need to take this child to the station!"

Ten minutes later, Basil had arrived at Platform 9¾, his hands full of snacks, and with seven Galleons in his pocket, he was still bewildered.

Old Tom had given him too much, and he couldn't refuse.

He had already planned his route – get on at Paddington Station, get off at King's Cross Station.

And while he was at it, he planned to wait for Harry at King's Cross Station to become Harry's first friend!

He wanted to earn Gems and see how he could get the "Harry Echo" through making friends.

But.

"Wait, I'm not short on money now?"

Galleons had significant purchasing power.

These seven Galleons, if he bought daily necessities like food and grain, would be enough for his expenses for a year.

"No! Gilderoy Lockhart."

"And this old bastard!" His eyes narrowed, his words filled with killing intent.

Lockhart's books were expensive, and he had to buy seven of them at once!

If things went according to the plot.

Basil's already not-so-wealthy family would be even worse off!

A new line of text appeared on his list of must-do tasks for the academic year.

[Expose Lockhart's scammer identity to everyone!]

After all, he didn't need to maintain the plot.

The more the worldline deviated, the more Gems he would get!

"Speaking of Gems, if I meet more people now, will the Gems I get increase?"

"And does this count as making friends?"

He checked the time. It was only 10 o'clock.

There was still an hour until the train departed.

"Walk on by, don't miss out!"

"Are you tossing and turning because you've entered an unfamiliar magical world?"

"Are you restless because you've left your parents?"

"Are you worried you won't pass the entrance test and will have to go home?"

Harry felt a particular kinship with the blonde boy in the crowd.

Every sentence seemed to speak directly to his heart.

Moreover, it was possible that this boy was the reason he'd managed to get to the station so smoothly.

Time rewound ten minutes.

10:30 AM, London, King's Cross Station.

Because the Dursleys were in a hurry to get to the hospital to have Dudley's pig tail removed.

After a few simple taunts, they abandoned Harry between platforms nine and ten.

He was just about to try and ask a guard for help.

Just then, a group of people walked past him from behind.

A few words occasionally drifted into his ears.

"It's a shame George isn't here, Platform 9 ¾ is really lively now. A relative of Finn Granger, the 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.

One after another, they passed through the barrier and disappeared before his eyes.

So, he mimicked the boys and ran towards the barrier.

Then, he arrived at Platform 9 ¾, as written on the ticket.

He saw a crowd surrounding the blonde boy, as if he were the Savior.

The boy possessed a strange aura of deterrence, yet he was also very approachable.

This caused a few older students who had intended to rush over and interrupt to instinctively halt their steps.

"My friends, you don't need to worry about any of these things!"

"Because I—have—arrived!"

"Now that I'm here, Hogwarts will have sunny days!"

"Recommended extracurricular reading for years one through seven!"

From the crowd, a girl with thick brown hair and large front teeth emerged.

"I'll take one, how much is it?"

The blonde boy pulled out a piece of parchment.

"One Sickle, my friend!"

The blonde boy continued.

"A diagram of the power structure and relationships within the Ministry of Magic."

A voice sounded from behind Harry.

"I'll take it!"

He spun around abruptly and saw a tall, thin boy with red hair.

The boy strode past his family and walked towards the blonde boy.

"I hope you're not playing any tricks, I'm a prefect!"

The blonde boy nodded and pulled out another piece of parchment.

"Of course, my friend, honest dealing! Two Sickles!"

Harry stared at the scene, dumbfounded.

He especially noticed the boy's increasingly bulging pockets.

An inexplicable churning began in his stomach.

Were all the young wizards in the magical world this capable?

Was it too hasty for him to be allowed into Hogwarts?

Should he perhaps attend a year of preparatory classes first?

Harry was lost in thought.

He only snapped back to reality when a voice sounded in his ear.

"It's enviable, isn't it! I never thought of that trick!"

Harry turned his head. The speaker was a boy with red hair, a face full of freckles, big hands, big feet, a long nose, and was thin and tall.

If he remembered correctly, this should be the family member of that boy who called himself a prefect.

The boy stared straight at the blonde youth's pocket, his eyes full of longing.

"I can't believe anyone could actually get money from Percy."

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

A smile unconsciously spread across his lips.

Meeting a new friend was undoubtedly a good start.

The unknown magical world, Hogwarts, would surely be wonderful.