Hogwarts Express

The taxi dropped Skofot off at King's Cross Station.

Carrying his suitcase and owl cage, he blended into the crowd and easily found the ordinary-looking wall between Platforms Nine and Ten.

Remembering Professor McGonagall's instructions, he did not hesitate in the slightest. Pushing his trolley, he quickened his pace and headed straight for the wall—

After a slight sensation of pressure, the noise abruptly changed.

A deep red steam locomotive stood beside a platform packed with travelers. The sign on the train read: Hogwarts Express.

Thick smoke from the locomotive drifted above the chattering crowd. Owls hooted from their cages, while cats weaved between people's feet.

Skofot took a deep breath of air tinged with coal smoke and magic, then joined the crowd and boarded the train.

He began searching the corridor for an empty compartment, though his mind was not entirely on the task.

He asked in his mind, "System, which carriage is Harry Potter in?"

The system panel floated silently before him, offering no response.

"...What use are you?" Skofot grumbled inwardly, left with no choice but to use the most primitive method—

He checked the compartments one by one.

He lightened his steps, pretending to look for a seat as his eyes quickly swept over the glass windows of every compartment.

Most compartments were filled with excited first-years chatting away, or older students.

Finally, in a compartment toward the middle-rear of the train, he spotted a black-haired boy with a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead and worn round glasses. The boy sat alone, looking out the window somewhat awkwardly.

Found him.

At the same time, he noticed a line of small text on the system panel:

[Time until next Card Draw: 0 days 0 hours 0 minutes 0 seconds]

The cooldown was over.

But he had no plans to draw a card for now. The effect of the [Rabbit Rhymer] card seemed perfectly suited for a first meeting like this.

He adjusted his expression, allowing his natural "fragility" and "affinity" to show fully, then gently knocked on the compartment door.

Harry Potter turned around and saw a very thin, somewhat pale black-haired boy standing outside.

The boy held several books in his arms. There was a cautious, tentative look in his eyes, and he looked... like someone who desperately needed taking care of. (Fragility Buff activated.)

"Come in," Harry said instinctively, his voice fairly friendly.

Skofot slid the door open and stepped inside. "Hello, are there any other seats available here?"

His voice was soft, carrying just the right amount of shyness.

"No, it's just me," Harry said quickly, pointing to the empty seat opposite him.

"Thank you." Skofot put away his suitcase, then sat across from Harry and placed his books beside him.

He noticed Harry's gaze linger briefly on his slightly oversized secondhand robes and thin wrists.

"My name is Harry. Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself.

"Skofot Leoqi."

Skofot gave a slight nod and offered a faint, seemingly forced smile. (Fragility: putting on a brave face.)

"I know who you are. I saw you in... some books."

He explained vaguely, without showing excessive enthusiasm.

"Oh..." Harry looked a little awkward, as though he did not particularly enjoy being recognized.

Just then, the compartment door slid open again.

A red-haired boy with a bit of dirt on the tip of his nose poked his head in and asked:

"Excuse me, are there any seats left anywhere else? All the other compartments are full."

Harry seemed relieved and quickly said, "There are seats here. It's just the two of us."

"Great." The red-haired boy walked in and plopped down beside Harry.

He saw Harry, then looked at the unusually quiet and frail-looking Skofot across from him, as though he wanted to say something.

"My name's Ron. Ron Weasley," he said to them both.

"Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself again.

Ron's eyes widened instantly, and he began stammering about the scar and "that person."

Skofot merely sat quietly across from them, listening to their conversation. Every now and then, as the train swayed, he gently steadied the books beside him. (Fragility + Affinity Buffs stacked.)

He appeared harmless, yet possessed a fragile air that made people reluctant to overlook him, even making them want to care for him.

He did not interrupt. Whenever they looked at him, he only returned a slight smile that seemed somewhat weary.

While Ron was still excitedly talking about Harry's scar and "You-Know-Who,"

and Harry looked rather at a loss, Skofot, who had been sitting silently across from them, suddenly raised his head.

His eyes, made especially clear and even slightly delicate by the [Rabbit Rhymer] card's effect, turned toward Ron. In a soft voice carrying just the right amount of surprise and curiosity, he said:

"Weasley... Is that the Weasley family famed throughout the wizarding world for its courage and loyalty, praised as the 'embodiment of Gryffindor courage'?"

The compartment fell silent the moment those words left his mouth.

Ron's face turned bright red at a visible speed, nearly blending in with the color of his hair.

His mouth opened and closed, as though the sudden, respectful praise had completely stunned him.

He was used to being mocked by people like Malfoy as "red hair, old robes, blood traitors,"

and used to most people seeing him as a member of a large, ordinary—perhaps even poor—wizarding family,

but he had never heard anyone connect his surname with words like "embodiment of courage" in such a solemn tone.

"Uh... I... well, I suppose..."

Ron spoke somewhat incoherently, scratching his nose with an awkward look,

but an uncontrollable glimmer of recognition lit up in his blue eyes.

"I mean, everyone in my family is in Gryffindor..."

Watching this, Harry was temporarily freed from the awkwardness surrounding his own scar. He looked curiously at Skofot, then at Ron.

Skofot maintained that harmless expression tinged with sincere admiration. (The Affinity Buff continued to work steadily.) He gave a slight nod.

"It's an honor to meet you, Ron. Having a family legacy like that to be proud of must be wonderful."

His tone was natural, without the slightest trace of flattery, as though he were simply stating an obvious fact.

[Emotion Points +5]

[Emotion Points: 375/100]

This subtle emotional fluctuation came from Ron. It was a complex mix of surprise, embarrassment, and a spark of family pride.

Ron puffed out his chest. Though his face was still red, his voice was noticeably more confident than before.

"It's really nothing special... There are just a few more kids in our family."

But this time, there was less inferiority in his complaint and a little more... well, perhaps the sweet burden of it?

Skofot did not pursue the topic any further. He fell silent at just the right moment and turned his gaze back toward the fields rushing past outside, giving Ron room to process this sudden "recognition" while avoiding seeming overly deliberate.

The atmosphere in the compartment seemed to shift subtly because of that brief exchange.

There was less pure scrutiny of a stranger in Ron's gaze toward Skofot, and more budding friendliness.

And Harry, too, cast more curious glances at Skofot, who looked frail but spoke in a way that seemed far from ordinary.