Encounter on the Train

On the last day of August, in the garden of number 3 Privet Drive, a handsome young man with glasses was watering the flowers and plants.

Hearing the sound of a car approaching, Harry looked up happily, only to see it wasn't Mr. Smith's car, and he sighed in disappointment.

"Sigh..."

Harry sighed. He was going back to school tomorrow. If Mr. Smith didn't come back soon, who would he ask for payment for the holiday work?

Unlike Dudley, he didn't get pocket money from the Dursleys. If he wanted to earn money, he could only help Mr. Smith with tasks like watering flowers, mowing the lawn, and washing the car, or help Charles with his holiday homework.

Mr. Smith was very generous. For two months of summer vacation, he would get 1000 Pounds for tending to the garden every three days and washing the car every five days.

Harry felt it was a bit of a shame that Charles had also graduated from primary school this year and didn't have any summer homework. Otherwise, it would have been another good source of income.

But he was going to Hogwarts tomorrow. Charles might be going to a middle school like Eton College, which Dudley wouldn't even dare to dream of. He wouldn't be able to help him with his holiday homework anymore.

Dudley had once tried to earn this money, but after he turned the garden into a swamp, Mr. Smith kicked him out. Harry still remembered the first time Uncle Vernon scolded Dudley that night.

Harry turned off the tap, tied up the garbage bag filled with freshly cut branches, and placed it in the designated spot. Then he went inside, took a bottle of Charles's Happy Water from the refrigerator, and returned to his room, the room at number 3 Privet Drive.

After chugging the Happy Water, he lay on the bed, let out a burp, and felt a sense of peace.

There was a locked iron box by his bed where he kept all the money he had received from Mr. Smith and Charles.

Harry had only used this money to go to a nearby boxing club with Charles. The activity itself was secondary; the main thing was to avoid staying at his aunt's house for too long.

At this moment, he couldn't help but wonder if he should put it in a Gringotts vault.

He glanced at the bookshelf in his room. It was filled with books that Charles had moved over because he didn't have space for them on his own shelf. They were all novels, like Sherlock Holmes detective stories.

It wasn't noon yet, so Harry spaced out for a while and decided to stay here until evening before going back.

There was still food in the refrigerator anyway. He would leave a note for Mr. Smith to deduct the meal money from his payment.

However, he felt that Mr. Smith wouldn't deduct it.

Harry lay down for a while and felt a bit bored, so he went to the gym next door, put on his gloves, and started punching the sandbag.

At this moment, a scene from a month ago kept replaying in his mind: a perfect uppercut.

The sandbag was hit with a continuous "bang bang" sound. Harry didn't know how many times he had repeated it, always feeling that he was missing something important compared to that punch.

However, his stomach rumbled like Hedwig's, forcing him to go downstairs to the kitchen to get something to eat.

As Harry hung his gloves on the wall, he saw Charles's gloves next to them, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curl up.

He thought that if he told Charles about his recent experiences, Charles would definitely say he was dreaming.

There were even tomato sauce meatballs in the refrigerator! Harry happily cooked a large pot of noodles and mixed them with the heated meatballs, eating a delicious meal.

He didn't know what the meatballs were made of. They tasted like chicken, were crunchy when bitten, and he left two to feed Hedwig at the end.

After a sweaty afternoon in the gym, Harry made himself dinner, watched a hilarious TV show in the living room, made sure the water and electricity were turned off, left a note, and returned to the dark and quiet number 4 Privet Drive, falling asleep with aspirations for a better future.

The next day's experience at the train station left Harry a bit bewildered. Fortunately, with the help of the red-haired family, he made it to Platform 9.

The platform looked chaotic. The sounds of farewells and the cries of pets mingled, and even Hedwig hooted as if competing with other owls.

Suddenly, Harry heard a familiar voice: "Don't be scared at Hogwarts. If anyone bullies you, and you can't handle it, write to me, and I'll deal with their parents."

He recognized Mr. Smith's voice, but when he turned around, several tall people walked past and blocked his view. After they moved away, he didn't recognize anyone there.

Harry shook his head, thinking he was too preoccupied with the 1000 Pounds and had mistaken someone else's voice for Mr. Smith's.

The train started. Harry had a pleasant time, met his first wizard friend, Ron Weasley, shared lunch with his friend, saw chocolate that hopped like frogs and moving pictures, ate Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans like a lottery, and the boy looking for his toad...

"Ding ding ding!"

Someone knocked on the carriage door and politely asked, "Excuse me, may I open the door?"

Harry, who was waiting for Ron to cast a spell on the half-dead mouse with his wand, instinctively replied, "No!" upon hearing the voice.

A moment later, Harry suddenly froze. He moved faster than dodging a punch in a boxing ring to open the carriage door and exclaimed in surprise at the handsome young man outside, "Charles! What are you doing here?!"

"Yo, Harry!" Charles greeted the two inside with a smile. "Are you Mr. Weasley too? I just met a prefect named Percy Weasley. His hair is the same color as yours."

Ron had heard Harry mention this name earlier, which was the same as his second brother's (though the Chinese translation was different). Knowing he was Harry's only close friend, he also greeted him politely.

Charles introduced Crabbe and Goyle behind him and then asked, "Have you seen Neville's toad?"

Harry replied, "No."

Ron also said, "He already asked."

Neville's face grew even more bitter.

At this moment, Hermione saw Ron holding a wand. Her curiosity about magic overcame her curiosity about Harry, and she said with curiosity and anticipation, "Oh, are you casting a spell? Can I see?"

Saying this, she walked into the carriage on her own, sat next to Ron, and kept asking, "What spell are you going to cast on it? Transfiguration? Or enlarge it?"

Harry was just as curious about magic as Hermione at this moment. He stopped asking Charles questions and watched Ron.

Ron looked a bit flustered. After a couple of "Oh"s, he said, "Watch closely then."

Next, Charles watched with a smile as Ron chanted, "Sunlight, daisies, sweet cream, turn this silly, fat mouse yellow," and then nothing happened. The gray, mottled mouse remained the same.

"Are you sure that's a spell?" Hermione asked with a frown. "I've practiced a few spells at home with my textbook, and they all worked..."

After she finished her chatter, Charles pinched his chin and said, "Maybe the mouse has heatstroke. How about feeding it to an owl?"