King's Cross Station

A thin layer of mist hung in the early September morning air of London, as though someone had draped a translucent veil across the River Thames.

London, King's Cross Station.

Su Yu's current state was not much better than that of those Muggles who were drunk and caught somewhere between dreaming and waking.

He walked through the main hall of King's Cross Station with steps so unsteady that it felt like he was treading on a flimsy floating board over water. His eyes were half-open. His black robes hung loosely from his shoulders, the collar unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. He looked as though someone had dragged him straight out of bed and thrown him here.

In fact, that was exactly what had happened.

Carson followed three steps behind Su Yu, pushing a trolley piled high with luggage. Several enormous leather trunks bore the full name "Yu-Su-Fuli" in golden cursive, alongside a smaller name carved in Eastern Continent seal script; an owl cage—no, not an owl cage, but an emerald-green bamboo birdcage. Inside stood a Qingluan, currently dozing with its head tucked beneath its wing.

"Young master," Carson's voice came from behind him, as steady as ever, "you've gone the wrong way. Platform Nine is on your left."

Su Yu's steps paused. He turned his head blankly, looked left, then right, and stood there as though waiting for his brain to reboot.

"...Which side is left?"

Carson fell silent for one second—his way of expressing helplessness.

"Young master, raise your left hand."

Su Yu raised his left hand.

"That side is left."

"Oh." Su Yu lowered his hand, turned halfway around, and headed in the right direction. After three steps, though, he began drifting right again.

Carson said nothing more. He merely adjusted the trolley's direction and followed behind, like an old helmsman who always knew the right course, patiently waiting for his muddleheaded captain to find it on his own.

Kurama gave a meaningful snort within the soul space. "Are you sure you're fit to go to school in this state? You can't even tell left from right."

"Shut up," Su Yu replied vaguely in his mind. "I just didn't sleep well last night."

Kurama snorted again but said nothing else. She had lived with Su Yu for so many years that she had long learned when to stop arguing—especially when the boy was clearly half-asleep. In that state, Su Yu's logic was a mess, but his stubbornness remained perfectly intact. Reasoning with someone both stubborn and sleep-deprived was like playing chess against a wall—meaningless, and you would never win.

The two of them—and one invisible fox—crossed the main hall of King's Cross Station in that strange rhythm. Su Yu swayed along in front like a scarecrow blown by the wind, while Carson followed steadily behind. Occasionally, passersby cast curious glances at the overloaded trolley, but they were quickly distracted by other things—Londoners possessed an innate ability to turn a blind eye to anything unusual.

At last, they reached the entrance to Platform Nine.

Su Yu stopped.

"This is it?" Su Yu asked.

"Yes, young master." Carson parked the trolley and took a pocket watch from his coat to check it. "There are still forty-seven minutes until departure. You have plenty of time."

Su Yu nodded. Just as he was about to walk toward the wall, a voice came from nearby.

"Oh, little one, are you still not awake?"

The voice carried a warm, motherly quality. Su Yu turned and saw a middle-aged red-haired woman walking toward him. Faint freckles dotted her face, and deep lines sat at the corners of her mouth—the marks of a lifetime spent smiling.

"You shouldn't walk like that," the woman said as she reached him, taking his hand without hesitation. "You could get hurt. What if you walk into a pillar? What if a luggage trolley trips you? Look at you, child, your eyes are practically closed."

Her hand was warm. Rough calluses lined her palm, the traces of countless household chores.

Led by her hand, Su Yu stumbled forward two steps before rubbing his face hard. The warmth and firm pressure of her palm finally dragged his brain out of sleep. He blinked, and his vision gradually cleared.

Only then did he take in the whole family standing before him.

The middle-aged red-haired woman—whose identity Su Yu had already confirmed in his mind—was clearly Molly Weasley. Behind her stood two identical boys, undoubtedly George and Fred. Beside them was a boy slightly shorter than Su Yu, also red-haired, with freckles even denser than his mother's. He held a plump rat with a terrible reputation in his arms, his expression caught between nervousness and excitement. That had to be Ron.

And on the other side of Mrs. Weasley stood a little girl.

She looked younger than everyone else. Her hair was red too, though darker than her brothers', the color of autumn maple leaves soaked by rain, hanging heavily over her shoulders. Her eyes were a bright brown, and she was looking up at Su Yu with quiet curiosity.

"What a beautiful child," Mrs. Weasley said, holding Su Yu's hand as she looked him over, her voice full of admiration. "Just look at those features, like he stepped out of a painting. Which family are you from? Why are you here alone? Where is your family?"

Before Su Yu could answer, George—or perhaps Fred—spoke from behind him.

"Did you see how cool he looked walking just now?" one of the twins shouted, his voice overflowing with exaggerated admiration.

"Yeah, yeah! Half his eyes shut, swaying around like he was doing some dance we haven't learned yet!" the other immediately added.

"I'm going to walk like that next time! It'll be so cool!"

"Right, right! Tomorrow we'll walk to breakfast like that. Everyone at school will be so surprised!"

The twins exchanged a glance, then simultaneously narrowed their eyes halfway and began copying Su Yu's earlier sleepy gait. George—if the one on the left was George—held both hands out in front of him, feeling his way along like a blind man. Fred tilted his head to one side, mouth slightly open, his expression somewhere between sleepwalking and drunkenness.

They made it about five steps.

Then Fred's trolley hit a pillar.

The trolley was stacked with six trunks, a cage, and a large bundle of who-knew-what. The impact made the whole thing wobble like it was drunk before—CRASH—everything toppled to the floor. A trunk sprang open, scattering clothes everywhere; the cage door burst open, and an owl shrieked as it flew out. It circled once beneath the hall's vaulted ceiling before landing on a beam, glaring down at the chaos with a condemning stare.

"George! Fred!" Mrs. Weasley's voice suddenly rose by several octaves, like an alarm going off without warning. "You two—I don't know how many times I've told you! In public, you have to—you have to—good heavens, look what you've done!"

The twins instantly snapped out of their "sleepwalking" state. Their expressions shifted from mischievous to we're sorry too so quickly that one had to wonder whether years of experience had turned it into muscle memory.

"Sorry, Mum—"

"We were just joking—"

"We'll clean it up right away—"

"Right away! Immediately! We're cleaning it up now!"

The two bent down and began stuffing things back onto the trolley in a flurry. Fred chased the owl around for half a lap, but in the end Ginny simply held out her arm and gave a soft whistle. The owl obediently landed, looking at Ginny with aggrieved eyes as though saying, It wasn't my fault. They started it.

"All right, all right." Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath and turned back to Su Yu, her expression switching from fury to gentleness almost as quickly as her sons'. "Sorry you had to see that, child. Our family... well, you've seen it. With so many people, things get lively."

"It's fine," Su Yu said. His voice still held a trace of sleepy morning rasp, but he was much more awake now. "Mrs. Weasley, right?"

Mrs. Weasley froze. "You know me?"

"Your family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight." Su Yu gave a slight bow, relaxed but not impolite. "Carson, the Fuli family's butler, has mentioned you before. My name is Yu-Su-Fuli. You can just call me Su Yu."

"Fuli?" Mrs. Weasley's eyes lit up. "You're a child of the Fuli family? Oh my, I haven't seen anyone from the Fuli family in ages. Your mother... I remember seeing her once when she was still a little girl. It was at a Malfoy family banquet. She wore a blue dress and stood quietly in the corner, like a—like a..."

Her words trailed off. Her expression changed subtly—Su Yu could tell she was recalling more details about his mother. Though the Fuli family was one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, they had almost completely vanished from wizarding society over the past decade or so. Some said the Fuli family's last heir had run away with an Eastern immortal, while others claimed there was still a child left in the family, though no one knew what that child looked like.

Mrs. Weasley clearly belonged to the sort who knew something, but not everything. She opened her mouth as though she wanted to say more, but in the end merely patted the back of Su Yu's hand and changed the subject. "Did you come alone? No one saw you off?"

"Carson's behind me." Su Yu pointed over his shoulder. "He helped—Carson?"

He turned around and found Carson standing three steps away, his expression utterly unchanged, as though all the commotion just now—the overturned trolley, the escaped owl, the twins' imitation act—had been entirely expected and perfectly ordinary. After all, it was nothing compared to the young master...

"Young master." Carson gave a slight bow.

"This is Carson," Su Yu introduced him to Mrs. Weasley. "The Fuli family's head butler. He takes care of everything."

Mrs. Weasley looked Carson over. With the eyes of a mother who had raised seven children, she immediately saw certain qualities in the butler. That quiet steadiness, that perfectly measured sense of distance, that restraint which never became rude before anyone yet never grew overly familiar either—he was a true old-fashioned British butler, and one of a kind that was nearly extinct.

"Hello, Mr. Carson." Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Thank you for taking care of this child."

"It is my duty, Madam." Carson gave another slight bow. "Though 'taking care of him' would not be quite accurate. The young master is a very independent person. I am merely responsible for packing his luggage."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and turned to Ron beside her. "Ron, this is a child from the Fuli family. You should be in the same year."

Ron held his rat, the freckles on his face looking even more obvious in his nervousness. He nodded at Su Yu, his lips moving, but no proper words came out. His rat—Scabbers, the fat rat—poked its head out from his arms, looked at Su Yu with its two tiny black eyes, then quickly withdrew again.

Su Yu noticed the rat.

He said nothing. He merely looked at it once, then shifted his gaze away.

Just then, another voice came from nearby.

"Excuse me... sorry to bother you..."

It was a boy's voice, carrying a hint of hesitation and nervousness.

Everyone turned.

A black-haired boy stood there. He wore a T-shirt that was clearly far too large for him, the loose collar drooping to reveal a thin stretch of neck. His hair was a mess, as though he had never used a comb—or had tried, but his hair itself had refused to cooperate. A pair of round glasses sat on his nose, and behind the lenses were bright green eyes looking at the ordinary brick wall before him with confusion and hope.

He was pushing a trolley too, though his luggage was pitifully sparse—just an old leather trunk that looked as though it had been used for years, and a cage tied with rope. Inside stood a snowy white owl, surveying everything around it with elegant indifference.

That was Harry Potter.

Mrs. Weasley reacted faster than anyone. She stepped forward and warmly took Harry's hand.

"Oh, dear," she said, her voice even warmer than it had been with Su Yu, "is this your first time at King's Cross Station? Do you not know how to get onto the platform?"

Harry nodded, the tension in his face easing slightly. "I... yes. I've been looking for ages, but I couldn't figure it out. I saw lots of people walk toward that wall and then... disappear, but..."

"That's Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile. "See? That wall there. You just run straight through it. Don't be scared, don't stop, and don't run too fast."

She turned to Ron. "Ron, show him."

Ron blushed. Holding Scabbers, he pushed his trolley in front of the wall and took a deep breath—then calmly pushed it forward. The instant he touched the brick wall, he vanished like a drop of ink falling into water, silent and leaving no trace.

"See?" Mrs. Weasley patted Harry's shoulder. "Go on, child. Don't be afraid."

Harry nodded. He gripped the trolley handle and walked toward the wall. His steps were hesitant at first, but by the third step, they had become firm—and then he vanished too.

"All right." Mrs. Weasley turned to Su Yu. "You should head over too, child. Ron and Harry are waiting for you on the other side."

Su Yu nodded. He turned to Carson.

Carson had already pushed the trolley in front of him. Taking a list from his pocket, he began checking items one by one—with the uniquely serious attitude of a butler who cared nothing for the occasion.

"Young master, all your other large trunks have already been checked in. Your wand is in the hidden pocket on your right. Your Qingluan's cage is on top of the luggage, covered with a light-blocking cloth. Remember to remove it after you arrive at school."

"All right, Carson." Su Yu began rolling his eyes.

"Your Hogwarts acceptance letter is in the left pocket of your outer robe. You will need to present it when registering. Your—"

"I know, Carson."

"—Galleons and Sickles are in three separate pouches. The heaviest pouch contains the Galleons, so please—"

"All right, Carson."

Carson raised his head and looked at Su Yu. Su Yu looked back at Carson. The two stared at each other for about three seconds.

"Young master," Carson said, "whenever you say 'I know,' it usually means you know the least."

"This time, I really know, Carson."

"You said that last time too, young master."

"This time is different."

Carson fell silent for a while, then folded the list and put it back into his pocket. He stepped back and bowed slightly.

"Then I wish you all the best at Hogwarts, young master."

"Mm." Su Yu took hold of the trolley handle. "Go home, Carson. Don't stand around at the station. It'll be boring."

"As you wish, young master."

Carson straightened, turned, and headed back toward the station hall. After taking three steps, he stopped and looked back.

"Young master."

"Yeah?"

"...Remember to eat your meals on time."

Su Yu froze for a moment. Then he smiled.

"I know, Carson."

This time, the way he said "I know" was different from before.

Carson seemed to hear the difference too. He said nothing else, turned away, and disappeared into the crowd.

Su Yu took a deep breath. Just as he was about to push his trolley toward the wall, another voice rang out nearby.

"—Hermione! How many times have I told you! Don't forget a young lady's manners just because you're excited!"

It was a woman's voice, carrying the helpless tone of someone trying to be stern but unable to manage it. Su Yu turned and saw a sight that made him look twice.

A little girl with a thick mass of bushy brown curls stood not far away. Her hair was like a cloud scattered by the wind, puffed up in every direction. Her dark brown eyes sparkled as though someone had lit two little lamps inside them. She held a thick book in her arms—Su Yu caught a glimpse of the cover. It was Hogwarts: A History.

Before her stood a middle-aged woman—clearly her mother—while a middle-aged man beside her held both hands out, his expression perfectly embodying the phrase there's nothing I can do either.

"But Mum," the little girl said in a voice brimming with curiosity, "I'm just too excited..."

"Hermione," her mother interrupted, "walk over quietly. Don't stand there shouting."

"But—"

"Hermione."

"...All right, Mum."

The little girl—Hermione Granger, without a doubt—finally closed her mouth, but her expression made it clear that while her mouth had stopped, her brain was still racing at a hundred miles an hour.

She pushed her trolley toward the wall. Halfway there, she seemed to sense something and turned around.

Her gaze met Su Yu's in the air.

Su Yu did not look away. He simply stood there with one hand on his trolley's handle.

Hermione looked at him for two seconds—in those two seconds, Su Yu could feel her bright brown eyes swiftly examining him from head to toe. Then she did something that surprised him slightly.

She turned and walked toward him.

She stopped before Su Yu and held out one hand.

"Hello," she said, her voice as crisp as a tap against a crystal goblet. "My name is Hermione Granger. Are you going to Hogwarts too?"

Su Yu looked down at her outstretched hand, then reached out and shook it.

"Yu-Su-Fuli," he said. "You can call me Su Yu."

"Su Yu," Hermione repeated, pronouncing his name with surprising accuracy. "Are you from East University? Your name sounds Eastern. I read an introduction to East University's magical system in the appendix of A History of Magic. It was only three pages, but I thought those three pages were far too brief. Do you know how East University's magic differs from ours? What are their wands made of? Are their spells based on Latin too? Do they—"

"Hermione!" her mother called from behind, her voice filled with a helpless warning.

Hermione stuck out her tongue—the gesture finally made her look like an eleven-year-old girl—but she had no intention of stopping. She lowered her voice, though her speaking speed did not slow at all.

"Sorry, my mum always says I shouldn't ask so many questions at once, but I just can't help it. You see, this is the first time I've met an—an Eastern person connected to—" She paused, seemingly choosing her words. "—someone connected to magic from the East. I mean, no one I know has ever been to East University, and no one knows what East University's magic is like. I read in Hogwarts: A History that several East University wizards once came to Hogwarts as exchange scholars, but that was over two hundred years ago. Do you know anything about those exchange scholars? Have you—"

"Hermione," Su Yu finally said. His voice was not loud, but it stopped her words. "You're asking too many questions. I can't answer them all at once."

Hermione's face reddened slightly. "Sorry, I—"

"However," Su Yu continued, "I can tell you a few things. First, East University's magical system is indeed rather different from ours. They focus more on the use of 'qi' than on chanting spells. Second, their wands... well, they don't use wands. That might not quite agree with Mr. Ollivander's ideas. Third, their spells aren't in Latin. Most are in Classical Chinese, or some even more ancient oracle-bone symbols."

Hermione's eyes lit up as though someone had flipped a switch. Her mouth fell slightly open.

"You really—you really know all that?" Her voice trembled faintly with excitement. "Have you studied East University's magic? You—"

"Hermione!" her mother called again, this time with genuine sternness in her voice. "You haven't even entered the platform yet! Stop pestering that poor boy with questions!"

Hermione's face turned completely red. She turned and waved at her mother. "Coming, Mum! I'll be right there!" Then she turned back, looking at Su Yu with an expression that clearly said we aren't finished talking yet.

Su Yu smiled. He noticed Kurama rolling her eyes dramatically in the soul space.

"That human is noisy and annoying," Kurama's voice sounded in Su Yu's mind, brimming with undisguised disdain. "How is she even noisier than you?"

"She is just enthusiastic," Su Yu replied in his mind.

"Enthusiastic?" Kurama gave a scornful snort. "That's called babbling. I spent a thousand years inside a seal, and the loudest sounds I ever heard still didn't add up to as much as she said in five minutes. She alone says more than Carson does in a month."

"That's because Carson doesn't like talking."

"No, that's because normal people don't act like her—like—" Kurama seemed to search for the right word. "—like that little mouth of hers never stops moving!"

"We should get inside quickly," Su Yu said to Hermione, gentle but firm. "If the train leaves soon, we won't be able to get to school."

Hermione's eyes widened instantly.

"Oh! You're right!" She turned and ran toward her parents, speaking so quickly that the words ran together. "MumDadI'mgoinginnowdon'tworryI'llwriteyoulettersyoudon'tneedtoseemeoffI'mgoingin!"

She pushed her trolley straight at the wall without looking back. Her mother shouted something after her, but Hermione had already vanished into the brick wall like a stone shot from a slingshot—fast, accurate, and carrying the force of no one is stopping me.

Su Yu shook his head and pushed his trolley toward the wall at an unhurried pace.