Can't Lose at the Starting Line

Hogwarts's courses were still relatively simple.

Eliana thought this after memorizing her textbook for the eighth time.

For her, reading through a few books a couple of times and committing them to memory wasn't a very difficult task; memorizing them so many times, aside from killing time, was mostly about believing that practice makes perfect.

Although everyone was entering school in the same year, compared to an ordinary kid like her, those children born into wizarding families had surely already learned a great deal early on!

The moment Eliana thought of this, she grew anxious—good heavens, she was a full decade or more behind them in learning!

This was losing at the starting line!

Anxiety.

Time to memorize the textbook one more time!

Beyond that, she had also secretly tried out some spells; after all, knowledge had to be combined with practice.

The results were all pretty good. The most noteworthy was when she used the Levitation Charm to lift a rag up to the ceiling—it wasn't very smooth, and during the process the rag kept falling onto her head—but in the end, she still managed to wipe the ceiling clean.

The process was quite a winding ordeal, so when she finished cleaning all the ceilings in the orphanage and later discovered there was a spell called the "Scouring Charm" in the book, she was absolutely furious.

Still, she tried it a few times. Perhaps because she was figuring it out on her own, the effect wasn't that clean, which actually made her feel a bit better.

Then there was Lumos, which was very handy—no need to turn on the light when getting up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night.

But once, she didn't control the intensity well, and the tip of her wand emitted an extremely dazzling light. The rooster in the backyard thought dawn had broken and started crowing, nearly waking up the entire orphanage.

But these were just small mistakes; she took a real tumble with Transfiguration.

Eliana had wanted to fix Mrs. Brown's chair, which had been propped up with bricks for years, but she put in a lot of effort and still couldn't lengthen the short chair leg. And while she was cursing and waving her wand randomly, some movement triggered the magical conditions, and the whole chair exploded outright.

Oh no, she was going to get a beating.

But she also learned a lesson from this experience. After repeatedly recalling the movements and state she was in when she blew up the chair, and practicing, she successfully replicated this little Explosion Charm and named it Little Firecracker.

Although its power wasn't great and its attack wasn't strong, it was perfect for cracking nuts—one hit, one crack.

That was good, because Mrs. Brown always liked buying chestnuts stored from the previous year—cheap and plentiful, and the kids loved eating them. But these chestnuts, after a year's passage, had shrunk and become hard to peel. Every time they ate chestnuts, Mrs. Brown's fingertips were always red—but not anymore!

Because the high-speed automatic Chestnut Roaster, Eliana, had entered the orphanage. The chestnuts she cracked were fast and good, and if you savored them carefully, they even seemed to have a hint of flame flavor.

But after two straight weeks of this, the little runts of the orphanage tearfully begged her to stop peeling, saying they were about to turn into little chestnut heads themselves.

The Chestnut Roaster was forced to resign.

The Chestnut Roaster was unwilling to accept this.

Time flew by like this, and before she knew it, it was September first.

The train departure time written on the ticket was eleven o'clock, but Eliana was already standing fully packed at the orphanage's main gate at five-thirty in the morning.

The little ones who came to see her off were all so sleepy their eyelids could barely lift: "Sister Eliana, isn't it a bit too early to leave now?"

Eliana frowned at this groggy bunch of little chicks.

"I'm waiting for the train, not the train waiting for me. And I've never ridden a train before, so of course I have to go early, to leave myself plenty of time for trial and error to be safe!"

"You too, in the future, if you take a train to school, go to the platform early and prepare. Better early than late, better ahead of time than delayed. If you miss the train, you have to buy a new ticket—do you think our money grows on trees?"

The little chicks were scolded into nodding repeatedly, not daring to say a word, and agreed timidly, which somewhat diluted the sad atmosphere of parting.

"Eliana," Mrs. Brown said with a smile, waiting for her to finish scolding the little chicks before stepping forward to straighten her collar, "take care of yourself. If anyone bullies you, let us know, and I'll go find your headmaster."

"I will." Eliana suddenly raised her arm. "Don't worry about me, Susan. I think none of them can beat me!"

Mrs. Brown's face, which had been full of worry, instantly went expressionless: "And don't you bully others either!"

Eliana didn't reply; she was already cheerfully carrying her luggage and walking away.

Mrs. Brown watched this vibrant little bird spread its wings and fly off into the distance.

Eliana had seriously underestimated herself.

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Although she had never been to King's Cross Station or ridden the subway, she navigated every stop she needed to pass through accurately and smoothly, following the signs the whole way.

She arrived at King's Cross Station at exactly eight o'clock in the morning.

"Platform 9 3/4."

Eliana looked at the ticket in her hand, then at the wall pillar between platforms 9 and 10, marked with plastic signs, which looked very solid.

"Hmm, I told you, it's good to come early—there's still time to panic and find the way." Eliana muttered calmly to herself, took the ticket out for another look—no mistake.

She circled around a few platforms in the station, confirmed that no corner or crevice hid a 9¾ sign, and turned back to the space between platforms 9 and 10.

It should still be here.

Recalling how Dumbledore tapped the bricks on Diagon Alley, Eliana squinted and began counting the bricks on this wall.

Twelve bricks per row horizontally. Vertically, if you took the top edge of the sign as the boundary, there were 52 bricks; if you took the highest point of the semicircular arch as the boundary, there were 84; if you took the topmost vault as the boundary, there were 224. Since it was Platform 9 3/4, the starting point should be from the platform 9 sign, taking the intersection of horizontal and vertical...

Eliana quickly identified three test bricks.

She drew her wand and tapped the first one.

The wand sank right in, as if there were no wall there at all.

Eliana's eyes went wide. She tentatively pressed her hand against it, and it passed through just as easily.

She pulled her wand back, a smile spreading across her face—she knew how to get onto Platform 9¾ now.

She walked straight into the wall with her luggage.

Her vision flickered between light and dark, and she stood on a platform where a deep red steam train was waiting, an archway overhead reading Platform 9¾.

She was a genius!

Eliana gave herself a small compliment, puffed up like a victorious kitten, and boarded the train with her head held high.

It was still early, and almost all the train compartments were empty. Eliana picked one at the back—she'd never ridden a train before, but she'd heard they went fast, and if the driver didn't see a mountain or a rock in time and crashed, maybe the rear cars would have a few extra seconds to jump out.

She was going to become a great wizard; she couldn't die in a place like this.

She opened a copy of Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration and flipped through it to pass the time.

The sun climbed higher, and the platform grew noisy—the noise swelled, and then the compartment door was knocked.

"Hello," a boy with messy black hair and bright green eyes cautiously poked his head in. "Can I sit here... the other compartments are full."

"Of course," Eliana said, noticing the veins bulging on his hand as he gripped his trunk. She casually waved her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa."

The trunk wobbled up toward the luggage rack overhead and settled down lightly.

"Wow, thank you, your spellwork is really good," the boy said, his emerald eyes like shimmering lake water. "Are you a senior at Hogwarts?"

Eliana replied with a hint of restraint, "No, actually I'm a first-year. My name is Eliana Rich."

"Then is your whole family wizards?" Harry asked, looking very interested.

What did that mean?

Eliana eyed Harry warily.

Although History of Magic didn't say it outright, she had memorized it ten times over and keenly deduced from some corner phrases that in previous centuries, some wizard-born families looked down on Muggle-born wizards.

What, was she running into feudal leftovers on the first day of school?

This guy might be dumb enough to carry his own trunk by hand instead of using magic, but it was heavy—he must have bought a lot of stuff—and he had a fat owl as a pet, like those rich wizard nobles. Would he look down on an orphan from a Muggle background?

"No, I don't have a family. I used to live in an orphanage, and no one there could do magic."

If he dared say anything rude, she'd blast him with a small spark!

Eliana tightened her grip on her wand.