King's Cross Station

His plan was simple.

Find a chance to get close to Hagrid and switch the Philosopher's Stone.

The months of wandering after leaving the orphanage had given Tierra skilled hands at stealing and lockpicking.

Tierra was confident that as long as he could get his hand into Hagrid's leather coat pocket, he could switch the Philosopher's Stone without anyone noticing.

Hagrid was a kind, righteous Half-giant who had no guard against others.

That made him exploitable.

Tierra would infect himself with Plague Worms. Kind-hearted Hagrid certainly would not stand by and watch Tierra suffer. With his Half-giant height, even if Tierra said nothing, he would surely carry Tierra off to find a doctor.

And that was indeed what happened. Hagrid picked him up without hesitation and rushed straight to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Because Tierra's hands and feet were icy cold, he would instinctively seek warmth, giving him an excuse to slip his hand inside Hagrid's coat.

It took Hagrid twenty minutes to get from Diagon Alley to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Twenty minutes was enough for Tierra to switch the Philosopher's Stone ten times over.

By the time they arrived at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, the real Philosopher's Stone had already been tucked into an inner pocket Tierra had sewn himself. The only problem was that he could not restore the wrapping containing the Philosopher's Stone perfectly.

So when Hagrid used his coat to cover him, Tierra deliberately nudged out the fake Philosopher's Stone package hidden inside Hagrid's clothes, using the stone's fall to conceal the slight differences between the wrapping and its original state.

After all, the Philosopher's Stone had not been wrapped very tightly to begin with. After falling to the ground and rolling a few times, it was perfectly reasonable and logical for the paper around it and the string tied around it to shift slightly.

And to conceal his fingerprints, Tierra had coated nine of his fingers with glue stick that morning.

It was a trick he had learned from Conan.

At the time, he had simply found the method interesting and remembered it.

He had never expected to actually use it one day in another world.

Then he had deliberately dragged out the time spent choosing a pet, just so Hagrid would remain a little longer in the noisy, dim Owlery.

That way, even if Dumbledore really discovered that the Philosopher's Stone had been switched, he would first suspect that another wizard had used the Owlery's environment to steal it, rather than suspecting a prospective first-year wizard infected with the Plague Worm and nearly dying from illness.

The plan had been perfect, but the one uncertain factor was the abnormality when he chose his wand.

Tierra was not sure how much importance Dumbledore placed on that abnormality, or whether it would make Dumbledore connect it to the theft of the Philosopher's Stone.

For now, Tierra could only wait and see. After putting the Philosopher's Stone in the library, he did not intend to enter it again before school began.

Over the next month, he had to make sure he looked like an ordinary prospective first-year student, so that if Dumbledore really came knocking, he would not reveal any flaws.

As for stealing the Philosopher's Stone, Tierra felt no guilt whatsoever, except toward Hagrid.

After all, the Philosopher's Stone would be locked away at Hogwarts for a year before being destroyed anyway. It was better to intercept it and keep it for himself.

Surely it would not have any effect on the future plot.

If it really did cause some bad consequences...

Tierra would pack up and leave immediately. He still had relatives back in his homeland. Even if he had to spend every last penny on a plane ticket, it would be worth it. With the Philosopher's Stone, he could earn it back quickly anyway.

Tierra understood his position very clearly. In the Wizarding World, he was just a nobody with neither power nor influence. His only advantages were his familiarity with the course of the future and that library.

If the future took a major, unpredictable turn, he would leave without hesitation.

Learning magic was great, but it was nowhere near as important as his own life.

Voldemort and his Death Eaters were all lunatics. Who knew when they might come after him?

Tierra hid the Philosopher's Stone inside an obsidian box in the drawer of the library's wooden table.

It was the box originally meant to hold Merlin's unfinished product.

Then Tierra did not linger for even a second. He recited the spell backward and returned to his bed.

Raven had been settled on the first floor, so nothing that happened here disturbed any living creature.

The next morning, Tierra washed up, ate breakfast, then, like a child newly introduced to the Magical World, began reading his spellbook, herbology book, and potions book.

Though he was confident he was stronger than other young wizards his age, he was still self-taught and had never received proper instruction or training. He could use this month to prepare for his classes and lay some groundwork for future study.

The month passed quickly.

Unlike Harry's unpleasant time, Tierra's days were very fulfilling.

Every now and then, he went out to perform magic tricks and earn a little extra money. With his young appearance, Londoners were generally generous with their tips, enough to cover his food for the month.

Tierra spent the rest of his time training Raven and studying the first-year magic curriculum.

The thing Tierra had worried about never happened. He spent the month in great peace, not knowing whether Dumbledore had failed to discover the switched Philosopher's Stone or had discovered it but chosen not to mention it.

A month later, Tierra and Harry met at the entrance of King's Cross Station at 10:10, as they had agreed.

Harry arrived a little early. After all, he had come to London with the Dursleys and could not control the timing himself.

"Tierra, do you know... where Platform Nine and Three-Quarters is?" Harry repeatedly looked over the ticket in his hand. He and Tierra had already searched every platform in the entire station, yet they still could not find the Platform Nine and Three-Quarters written on the ticket.

"No." Tierra answered indifferently. One moment he checked the time, the next he looked over the surrounding crowd, as if trying to find that red-haired Weasley family among them.

"But we can wait here," Tierra said. "Today is the first day of school. There will definitely be other wizard children heading to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. We can follow them then."

No sooner had Tierra finished speaking than a group of people hurried past behind them.

"...Of course there are lots of Muggles here..." A shrill, hurried voice reached both Tierra and Harry's ears.

Muggles!

Tierra and Harry brightened and turned around at the same time. The speaker was a short, plump woman with a head full of curly blonde hair. She looked strong, and her voice was full and powerful. As she strode forward in great steps, she spoke to the red-haired boys behind her.

There were four boys with fiery red hair. One of them, who looked about Harry and Tierra's age, had a round, chubby face. The other three were all pushing trunks like Harry's, with birdcages on top containing owls.

Harry and Tierra exchanged a glance, then quickly pushed their own carts toward the family that appeared to be wizards.

"All right, which platform is it?" the children's mother asked.

"Nine!" a little red-haired girl holding her mother's hand squealed loudly. "Mum, Mum, I want to go too."

"You're too young, Ginny. Now, stop talking. Percy, you go first."

The eldest-looking boy walked toward the space between Platforms Nine and Ten.

Harry stared at him without blinking, afraid of missing anything. But just as the boy reached the divide between Platforms Nine and Ten, a large crowd of passengers suddenly surged in front of Harry. By the time the last enormous canvas backpack had moved aside, the boy had vanished.

"Fred, you're next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," the boy said. "Honestly, you claim to be our mother, but why can't you tell that I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Just joking, I'm Fred." After saying that, the boy walked forward, while his twin brother urged him from behind to hurry up. He must have listened, because he vanished in the blink of an eye—but how had he done it?

At that moment, the third brother, the youngest-looking round-faced young wizard, also started toward the ticket barrier...

"Excuse me, ma'am." Tierra stepped forward and spoke to the plump woman. "Are you going to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters? Harry and I are going to Hogwarts for the first time, and we don't know how to get there."

"Oh, sweethearts," the plump woman said. "Don't worry. My little Ron is a first-year too."

She pointed at her last and youngest son.

The boy was thin and tall, but he had a plump round face that made him look clumsy. He was covered in freckles, with large hands, large feet, and a long nose.

"But, how do we..." Harry asked.

"How do you get there?" Mrs. Weasley asked understandingly. Harry and Tierra quickly nodded.

"Don't worry," she said. "You just walk straight toward the ticket barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. Don't stop, don't be afraid, and run right at the barrier. That's important. If you're nervous, just break into a little run. Um... go on, Ron. You go first and set an example for these two sweethearts."

With that, Mrs. Weasley patted Ron on the back.

"Oh, o-okay." Ron pushed his cart into a jog, staring fixedly at the ticket barrier ahead. His pace quickened as he ran, faster and faster, while Tierra and Harry watched the back of Ron's head intently.

Ron suddenly disappeared in front of the wall pillar, followed by Harry and Tierra, who rushed in after him.

After a brief darkness, Tierra arrived on a noisy, chaotic platform.

A scarlet steam engine stood beside the crowded platform, bearing a sign that read:

Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock

Tierra looked back and saw that the ticket barrier had become a wrought-iron archway, with the words written above it: Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.