GO! Harry! GO! GO!

"So what do we do now?" Harry asked nervously, looking at the people coming and going around them.

"Don't worry." Glenn pointed at the wall between the platforms in the distance.

"See that wall between Platforms 9 and 10?"

"I see it."

"Alright, listen to my lead. When I tell you to charge, just push your trolley straight at it and crash through."

"And after that?"

"I don't know either, but you should end up on the platform."

Harry couldn't help taking a step back.

Glenn made it sound easy and carefree, but if it really was a wall, wouldn't he end up splattered all over the place?

"Uh... is there a safer way?"

"Huh? Isn't this safe enough?" Glenn said matter-of-factly.

After all, when Professor Figg had taken him to school for the first time, they'd flown through the sky in a carriage pulled by horses. And up there, besides birds, there were dragons. A Ministry of Magic official traveling with them had unfortunately fallen into a dragon's mouth—couldn't even be pieced back together. By comparison, this method of getting to Hogwarts was truly safe and gentle.

Hearing this, Harry was momentarily speechless.

After hearing Hagrid's description of the magical world, he'd started longing for this world full of magic and had thought Uncle Vernon was prejudiced against wizards. But at this moment, for the first time ever, he actually found himself somewhat agreeing with Uncle Vernon's words: wizards were all freaks.

Thinking this, Harry silently apologized to Hagrid and the magical world in his heart.

Maybe it was just that he hadn't truly become a wizard yet, so he found Glenn's suggestion extreme. Perhaps once he became a wizard, he'd understand.

"Alright, I'll follow your lead." Harry took a deep breath, steeling his resolve.

Not far away, a family with red hair was chatting idly, preparing for the imminent farewell.

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

"Nine!" the little girl with fiery red hair said in a shrill voice, holding her mother's hand. "Mom, can I go?"

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

The oldest-looking boy walked toward the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10.

Just then, a large crowd of travelers—what wizards called Muggles—happened to be boarding on the platform. To avoid drawing attention, the mother told the other children to step aside and wait until the passengers had all boarded before continuing.

As the last canvas bag disappeared into the train car, the mother turned sideways and said quietly, "Fred, your turn."

But the boy called Fred showed no sign of moving.

Seeing this, his mother frowned, about to urge him again.

"Sorry, Mum, I don't want to get knocked flying..."

With a startled cry from the little girl, a figure reflected in her eyes.

Harry Potter, gritting his teeth, bent over his trolley, his legs accelerating as he charged forward with all his might. The feeling was like watching a train next door roaring at full speed.

"Oh, heavens!" the mother exclaimed.

"Go, Harry, go!" Glenn's voice seemed to echo in his ears, but watching the barrier loom closer, Harry felt certain he was insane.

But he couldn't stop now; the trolley was out of control. He closed his eyes, bracing for impact—

Under the stunned, wide-eyed gaze of the red-haired family, Harry pushed his trolley at astonishing speed and vanished straight into the wall.

"I'm afraid I can't go to school today, Mum. I just saw someone drag-racing a trolley," said another boy who looked identical to Fred—they were twins.

"Nonsense, George. Maybe we just saw things."

"Mum! Here comes another one!" Ginny cried out.

When their mother whipped her head around, she saw Glenn also pushing a trolley, charging at incredible speed toward the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10.

Perhaps sensing their stares, Glenn turned his head and waved at the red-haired family, whose mouths hung open, unable to speak.

But before they could make out his face, the next moment, he turned into a blur and flew straight into the wall, disappearing.

"Oh, George, maybe you're right. After I send you all off to school, I'll have to check if any of the food at home has gone bad," the mother muttered.

When Glenn opened his eyes again, the spot where the ticket barrier had been was now a wrought-iron archway, with the words: Platform 9¾.

A deep red steam engine stood beside a platform packed with passengers, and a sign on the train read: Hogwarts Express, Eleven O'Clock.

It was obvious—they had succeeded.

"So, Harry? My directing was fine, right?" Glenn asked with a smile, looking at Harry's slightly odd expression.

"But I just sent someone flying..."

"Oh, I saw that. You knocked that person right into the front of my car."

"And where is he now?"

"No idea. Maybe he flew a bit further ahead." Glenn shrugged.

"Do you think he'll die?"

"Who knows? There's still a chance he'll survive."

"..."

Of course, it was all a joke. That somewhat unlucky wizard naturally wouldn't come to any harm.

Long before Harry had charged out, Glenn had already cast a triggered Depulso (a repelling charm) on both cars.

It would only activate upon contact with a person, and the force was gentle. Aside from a brief blackout upon being thrown and a subjective sensation similar to being hit by a car, it wouldn't cause any actual injury.

Ignoring Harry, who was now craning his neck left and right searching for that poor soul, Glenn fixed his gaze ahead.

"Revelio." As his lips moved slightly, the world turned gray.

But unlike other places, here, many things hadn't completely lost their color.

The people coming and going, those leaning out of train windows to talk to their families, children tussling in their seats—every single one of them, without exception, bore that bright blue.

This was Platform 9¾.

The first stop for all British wizards.

The steam from the locomotive billowed above the chattering crowd; cats of various colors wove between people's feet; amid the buzz of voices and the clatter of heavy luggage, owls screeched harshly, calling back and forth.

Letting out a breath, Glenn pushed his trolley forward.

"Come on, Harry. We need to get our luggage stowed first."