Chương 23: Chapter 24 : Hogwarts Express I

After wandering through half the train and peering into what felt like every compartment on the Hogwarts Express, Tyson and Harry finally found an empty one near the middle of the train. Tyson quickly changed into his school robe. They had just finished settling in when a knock sounded against the sliding door. Harry looked up and pulled it open. A familiar red-haired boy stood outside, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Er..." He offered a hesitant smile.

"Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else seems full."

"Yeah, of course," Harry said immediately. He slid the door open wider.

"Come in."

"Thanks." The boy stepped inside and dropped onto the seat opposite them with visible relief. For a moment his eyes flicked between Harry and Tyson, glinting with a mix of awkwardness and curiosity.

"I'm Ron," he said.

"Ron Weasley." Then he scratched the back of his neck.

"Though... I suppose you probably knew that already." Harry smiled.

"I knew the Ron part." He gestured toward Tyson.

"I'm Harry, and this is Tyson."

"Pleasure meeting you," Tyson's offered a smile, as he reached across to shake Ron's hand.

"Your mum was a massive help earlier." Ron shook it enthusiastically.

"She's usually a lot nicer to strangers than she is to us." Tyson laughed, giving him a knowing look.

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Harry looked between them, confused.

""You understood what he meant?" He asked Tyson.

"Of course." Tyson replied.

"Why?"

"Because every mother on Earth operates according to the same mysterious set of universal laws." Harry looked deeply unconvinced and uncomfortable too, for obvious reasons. Sensing his friend's discomfort with the topic, Tyson realised his oversight and immediately changed the subject.

"So, you grew up around magic?" He suddenly asked Ron.

"Yeah." Ron nodded. Then his curiosity got the better of him.

"What about you two? You both Muggle-born?" Tyson pulled a face.

"Can we talk about that word for a second?" he groaned.

"'it sounds less like a term to describe non magicals and more like a genital disease with no cure. Honestly, every time somebody says it, I feel like I should secretly consult a doctor" Harry nodded, agreeing with him. Ron stared at them.

"I've literally never heard anyone complain about that before."

"That's because nobody's been brave enough." Harry barked out a laugh. Ron continued looking baffled.

"But yes," Tyson said.

"I'm Muggle-born. Harry technically isn't, but we both grew up in the Muggle world." If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Ron's eyes lit up.

"Blimey... what's that actually like?" Tyson shrugged.

"Pretty much what living in the wizarding world probably feels like to you. We just swapped magic and wands for technology and firearms." Ron blinked.

"... Oh." He looked genuinely disappointed.

"I thought it'd sound more exciting." Harry laughed.

"Maybe because it's normal for us." He leaned forward slightly.

"Things you take for granted probably seem just as strange from our side. Is it true you don't have telephones?" Recognition flashed across Ron's face.

"Oh! Those Muggle things people use to talk over long distances?" When harry nodded, ron shood his head.

"No, we don't have those. We use owls instead." Harry frowned.

"But what if you need to speak to someone immediately?" Ron looked equally confused.

"What do you mean? You just... go talk to them." Tyson raised a hand before either of them could continue talking in circles.

"I think I know where the misunderstanding is." Both boys looked at him.

"You lot can teleport all over the country, can't you?" Ron nodded enthusiastically.

"Sort of. Adults usually Apparate." His expression dimmed slightly.

"I'm too young for that, though. My family mostly uses the Floo Network." Harry tilted his head.

"The what?" That was all the invitation Ron needed. His face lit up, and he immediately launched into an explanation involving enchanted fireplaces, Floo Powder, magical transportation, and the importance of pronouncing your destination clearly unless you wanted to emerge in the wrong county. Harry listened with complete fascination before returning the favor. Soon he was explaining telephones, electricity, television, and how people could communicate without relying on birds or magical fireplaces.

Tyson leaned comfortably against the window and watched the exchange with quiet amusement. It was surprisingly entertaining seeing two worlds collide through the eyes of children who had never questioned how their own worked and how absurd they both sounded to each other. Harry described electrical infrastructure and global communication networks with the patient confidence of someone explaining basic facts of life.

Across from him, Ron spoke about stepping into green fire and traveling hundreds of miles in seconds as though that were equally reasonable. With every passing minute, both appeared increasingly convinced that the other had been raised by a civilization of lunatics. Tyson couldn't even blame them. Eventually the conversation drifted toward family and Harry's expression dimmed almost immediately.

"I've only got my aunt, uncle, and cousin." The slight bitterness in his voice was impossible to miss.

"They're awful."

"He's underselling it." Tyson took over.

"His aunt's a bitch, his uncle's a cunt, and the cousin's only redeeming quality is that he's still young enough to have an excuse." The compartment fell silent. Ron blinked. Then blinked again. His mouth opened slightly before snapping shut. For several seconds, he just stared at Tyson as though he'd suddenly started speaking Parseltongue. Tyson blinked back. At first, he assumed Ron was simply shocked by the Dursleys. Then the reason for that look finally clicked.

"... Right." He rubbed the back of his neck "Sorry mate. My American slipped out." Ron looked even more confused.

"That's... American?" Tyson nodded sagely.

"It's a higher form of English."

"A higher form?"

"Mm." Tyson folded his arms and leaned back.

"The Americans looked at the English language and thought, 'This is good, but what if we made it better?' They've spent centuries refining the art. Real pioneers." Ron looked uncertain whether he was being serious.

"You should try it sometime," Tyson continued.

"Swearing's surprisingly therapeutic. It's clears the mind, builds character and eventually makes one smarter" The moment " makes smarter" came out of his mouth, Ron's eyes lit up and he seem to actually consider his suggestion. Then the moment passed, and Ron looked back at Harry with sympathy.

"Still... if your relatives are really like that, That's bloody awful." Harry shrugged.

"You get used to it." Ron didn't look convinced.

"I complain about my brothers all the time," he admitted, "but... that's different." Tyson caught the faint hesitation in his voice. The comparison had been instinctive, but the disappointment behind it wasn't hard to miss. Ron wasn't difficult to read. Years of hand-me-downs, older brothers, and living in the shadow of family accomplishments had left marks that showed whenever he talked about home.

"So you've got siblings?" Tyson asked. Ron let out a long suffering groan.

"I've got five older brothers." His shoulders slumped dramatically.

"I'm number six.". Tyson couldn't help smiling.

"That explains a lot." Ron looked at him suspiciously.

"What does?"

"The expression." Tyson gestured vaguely.

"That's the face of someone who's never owned anything that originally belonged to him." Ron pointed at Tyson so quickly it was almost aggressive.

"Exactly!" His frustration burst free all at once.

"Everything's second-hand! My robes used to belong to Bill. My wand was Charlie's before it was mine." He threw his hands into the air.

"Half the stuff I own belonged to someone else first." He huffed dramatically before reaching into his pocket.

"And my rat..." The next moment, he drew out a rather pudgy gray rat. Tyson's eyes sharpened.

'Peter Petigrew!'