Chương 22: Chapter 23 : King's Cross Station

"So let me get this straight." Harry reached over and brushed another streak of dust from Tyson's shoulder as they walked along the platform.

"You came through the barrier at full speed, nearly ran straight into a girl, clipped her anyway, caught her before she face-planted into the platform, then ended up on the ground with her on top of you." He paused, giving Tyson an incredulous look.

"All within the thirty seconds I was behind you." Tyson shrugged.

"That sounds about right." Harry stared at him for a second.

"That's ridiculous." Tyson gave him a sideways look.

"You say that like I planned it all." Harry snorted, then immediately broke into a grin as he continued brushing dirt from Tyson's shirt. After a moment, Tyson heard him mutter something under his breath.

"Good thing I didn't go first." Tyson slowed slightly and turned his head. The look he gave Harry was completely flat. Harry caught the look immediately.

"What?" Tyson said nothing, only staring at him with deadpan eyes. Harry raised both hands in surrender.

"I'm just saying," he said, utterly unrepentant, "if one of us was destined to end up on the floor under a girl the second we got here, I'm glad it was you." He paused before quickly adding, "After all, I'm not sure if I would have been able to prevent the collision if I was in your place." Tyson looked away and let out an amused snort. He'd remember those words and see Harry eat them once they properly hit puberty. As they walked, Tyson looked around properly.

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was nothing like the relatively empty version he remembered from the films. The place was packed. There were families everywhere. Parents fixing collars, giving last-minute advice, and waving goodbyes. There were owls hooting from cages, cats weaving through trunks, and somewhere nearby someone was loudly asking if anyone had seen their toad. Neville Long Bottom? Tyson cast a glance at the person, then shook his head. It was some older student.

They were quite easy to recognise, to be honest. Their body language was a complete giveaway. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. They moved through the crowds with the casual confidence of people returning somewhere familiar. Many were already gathered in groups, laughing and talking loudly as though they owned the station. First-years were even easier to spot, as they looked rather overwhelmed. Some were bouncing with excitement.

Others looked moments away from panic. All of these people were truly assholes, though. Only a few minutes ago, he and Hermione had gone tumbling across the platform in what could have ended considerably worse. Yet aside from a few curious glances, most people had simply carried on with their day. Not a single person had come over to help or inquire whether they were alright. Tyson wasn't particularly offended, of course. Helping strangers was always a choice, not an obligation. Still, it was interesting.

The Wizarding World liked to portray itself as fundamentally different from the Muggle world. More enlightened in some ways and more connected. Yet moments like this reminded him that wizardkind were, at their core, just humans with reality-bending abilities, centuries of accumulated eccentricities, and a regressive mindset. Or maybe he was a bit offended, and wizarding culture simply operated on the assumption that two children colliding at high speed wasn't worth making a fuss over.

He personally leaned towards the first explanation. His gaze shifted past the crowds. And there it was. The Hogwarts Express. Even expecting it, the sight made him pause. The locomotive stretched across the tracks beside them, a long scarlet beast of polished metal and brass. White steam billowed from beneath the engine in thick clouds that drifted through the station, carrying with them the scent of hot metal, coal smoke, and machine oil. The engine itself looked older than any train Tyson had ever seen in person.

Beyond it stretched carriage after carriage, disappearing into the distance. Every window reflected the bustling platform. Students leaned out of compartments to wave at their parents in final farewells. The entire scene felt strangely timeless. It was probably why Hogwarts opted for a train despite having access to more time-conserving and convenient modes of transportation. To give children as unforgettable experience.

"Tyson." Harry's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"I tried," Harry said helplessly, pointing at a particular spot on Tyson's shirt.

"But it's not coming off." Tyson looked down. A thick patch of dust still clung stubbornly to his shirt where his back had scraped along the platform during the collision. Harry rubbed at it again. The stain merely spread wider. Tyson sighed.

"At a moment like this," he muttered, "the Scouring Charm would be a lifesaver." Harry blinked in confusion.

"The what?"

"It's the cleaning spell," Tyson explained.

"Gets rid of dirt, stains, grime. Probably bad life choices too if cast hard enough." Harry looked genuinely interested.

"That sounds useful."

"It is." Tyson nodded.

"Unfortunately, it's a fourth-year charm."

"Wait," Harry asked.

"Didn't you buy all the Charms textbooks up to fourth year?"

"I did."

"Then why don't you know it?" Tyson stared at him. Then he released a long, suffering sigh.

"You would know the answer to that if you'd actually read Magical Theory." Harry gave a sheepish laugh. That was fair. He was never much of a theory guy. He excelled mainly at the practical side of things.

"Just leave it." He poked the dirty spot.

"You can change into your robes on the train." Tyson flicked at the stain on his sleeve.

"That was the plan." As they walked, Tyson noticed almost immediately that most trunks weren't being dragged into passenger compartments. Instead, students were storing them in designated racks near the ends of the train. Efficient. Their trunks were heavy enough already. They kept walking until they reached the luggage carriage. Tyson grabbed his and hauled it toward the open rack while Harry followed with his own. The lift was awkward, but manageable. Tyson shoved his up into one of the open spaces with a grunt.

Harry struggled with his for a second before Tyson stepped over and grabbed the opposite end. Together, they pushed it up beside his. With their luggage stored, the two of them climbed aboard the train.