Maybe There Was Something Wrong with Him?

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

Before handing Ezio his ticket and leaving, Dumbledore had told him how to get onto the platform. He wasn't Hagrid; he wouldn't carelessly forget to tell a young wizard such an important detail.

After passing through the hidden doorway between Platforms Nine and Ten, Ezio arrived at the magical station on the other side of the wall.

Straight ahead, a scarlet steam engine puffed out white smoke. Cats of every color darted around his feet. On the platform, students about to start at Hogwarts said goodbye to their parents, while people reunited with classmates after a holiday apart chatted about their adventures and crowded onto the train together.

Neil, perched on Ezio's shoulder, looked around curiously. Surrounded by countless tasty little snacks, the bird was so excited that it looked ready to spread its wings and dive right in. But Ezio patted it on the head, and it settled down.

"Once we get to Hogwarts, don't eat the other students' pets as snacks. And there are owls, too. They deliver letters, so remember not to catch them."

Neil shook its head in displeasure, but in the end, it nodded in agreement.

"If you can't find anything to eat out there, you can always come to me. I'll feed you."

Neil's eyes suddenly widened. It raised a wing and smacked Ezio on the forehead several times, letting out a string of indignant cries, as if to say, "Who do you think you're looking down on? How could I possibly fail to catch prey and go hungry?"

Since he'd taken off his hood and wasn't hiding his face, the interaction between the boy and the bird attracted quite a few curious stares. Ezio felt a little uncomfortable, but he was trying to get used to it.

Most of his training had focused on stealth and assassination, as well as direct assassination. But an assassin also needed to disguise himself for certain occasions, get close to his target, and kill in a single strike. Unfortunately, Ezio had a natural disadvantage in that regard: he was rather conspicuous. Makeup could cover that up quite well, but the Training Space didn't teach it, and Giovanni hadn't had time to show him.

That was probably the only weakness Ezio had as an assassin.

He made his way through the bustling crowd and boarded the train empty-handed, meeting several curious glances along the way. All his belongings were in his backpack. The Undetectable Extension Charm saved him from the awkwardness of lugging around a pile of bags. He wasn't used to it; before, the things he carried in his hands were always meant to help him take someone out. Still, a suitcase could probably count as a weapon, too.

There was still more than half an hour before the train departed. Ezio easily found an empty compartment in a corner. He took out a teapot and cup and leisurely brewed himself a pot of black tea. He hadn't finished the books he'd bought, so he pulled out a copy of the Household Magic Compendium to pass the time.

The Hogwarts Express gave its first whistle, signaling that only five minutes remained until departure. Ezio looked up at the bustling scene outside the window, and a flash of bright red hair suddenly caught his eye.

Are they Weasleys? Ezio glanced over curiously, but didn't recognize any of the faces. Like Snape, the actors in the movies looked quite different from the real people in this world. It was hard to match a face to a name, especially when it came to someone like the pretty, teary-eyed little girl Ginny. In the movies, she had a broad, freckled face—not exactly a look that deserved to be called pretty.

But a voice outside the compartment door drew Ezio's attention away. Two red-haired twins pushed an incredibly heavy suitcase to the doorway. Behind them followed a small, thin, black-haired boy who was almost a head shorter than Ezio. He was clearly underdeveloped.

As the boy wiped away his sweat, the red-haired twins made exaggerated gestures. They seemed to be saying something, but Ezio couldn't hear them through the door.

About ten seconds later, the red-haired twins left. The boy they'd left behind looked into the compartment and met Ezio's eyes.

He seemed to be asking, rather sheepishly, Could I come in?

Ezio, meanwhile, was considering his value to him. What could Harry Potter do for him? After a brief pause, Ezio nodded, and the compartment door slid open.

"Hello." Harry looked a little nervously at the boy with a magnificent bird of prey perched on his shoulder. Though he was tense, he still managed to greet him.

"You're Harry Potter, right?"

"How did you—" Harry answered instinctively, but quickly caught himself. "Right. I am." He looked a little dejected. Being famous and having everyone know who he was was, honestly, hard to get used to.

"You seem pretty troubled by your fame." Ezio closed his book and looked at Harry. "It's actually a good thing."

"I don't see what's good about it." Harry shrugged. Once he realized the boy in front of him was easy to talk to, he began to relax. He was currently gritting his teeth and trying to shove the heavy suitcase onto the luggage rack, but he couldn't manage it with his own strength.

"The spell is Wingardium Leviosa." Ezio pointed at the suitcase. "Why don't you try the Levitation Charm?"

"What? The Levitation Charm?" Harry froze, then looked troubled. "I... I haven't learned magic yet."

"Maybe you can try practicing at home during the holidays." Ezio slightly opened his hand. After being modified, the device once used to extend his Hidden Blade could now draw out a wand. He held his Elder Wand and flicked it lightly. A month and a half later, he had mastered simple spells without speaking.

The heavy suitcase instantly grew light as a feather. Harry barely had to exert any effort to put it in the right place.

"Thanks." He quickly thanked Ezio, a hint of envy in his eyes. "I can't practice magic at home. My aunt and uncle would kill me. The fact that they even let me come to Hogwarts is already unbelievable."

"But why did you say being famous was a good thing? I can't understand that at all."

Once he'd taken his seat, Harry found a topic to talk about.

"Because being famous—and having a good reputation—means there are a lot of people willing to help you."

The train's whistle sounded then, but the wheels began to roll without interrupting their conversation.

"That's a stroke of luck, isn't it?" Ezio asked calmly. "If I were you, I'd take this opportunity to find out one thing—who killed my father."

"Your..." Harry's eyes widened in shock.

"Yes. He died at the hands of a wizard. I'll find out exactly who killed him."

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly.

"Why are you apologizing to me? Unless you had something to do with it."

"No, no, I didn't." Harry waved his hands repeatedly and swallowed. He was extremely nervous.

"Don't you want to find out what happened?"

"What?"

"Find out why Voldemort..."

The compartment door suddenly opened. A red-haired boy with a freckled face, big hands and feet, and a long nose stood frozen in the doorway. His face had gone pale, because he seemed to have just heard a rather ominous name.

With both Harry's and Ezio's eyes on him, the boy shifted uneasily. A trace of embarrassment appeared on his face, and he asked uncertainly, "What were you talking about just now?"

"Voldemort," Ezio replied indifferently. Harry was useful to him, so he wasn't going to share him with anyone else.

The red-haired boy sucked in a sharp breath, then blurted, "Sorry! Didn't mean to interrupt! I'm leaving!"

He slammed the door shut in a panic with a loud bang, then hurried away as if fleeing, dragging his suitcase behind him.

"Maybe there's something wrong with him?" Ezio looked away and glanced at Harry, baffled.

"He was probably scared." Harry's mouth twitched. "Wizards seem to be really afraid of that name."

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