10: Chapter 10 The Separation of King's Cross Station

September 1st, a cloudy day in London.

At the entrance of St. Marys Orphanage, Allen carried only an old suitcase.

The suitcase was light, containing a few Muggle clothes to satisfy outsiders. The real items were all in his Portable Space: robes, textbooks, a cauldron, medicinal ingredients, a wand, his cracked pocket watch, and that black snake coiled on a stone slab.

Mrs. Martha stood under the porch, not daring to approach.

Billy hid by the staircase window looking down; seeing Allen look up, he pulled his head back.

Allen did not say goodbye.

This place had fed him for eleven years, and it had also drained him for eleven years. The accounts were settled; there was no need to stage a tearful farewell.

Hagrid stood outside the iron gate, clutching two tickets in one hand and carrying Harry's large luggage in the other. Harry followed beside him, holding Hedwig's cage in his arms, his forehead still sporting untidy, sleepy hair.

"Morning, Allen." Harry greeted him.

Allen glanced at him: "Your uncle didn't lock you up?"

Harry smiled awkwardly: "They were eager for me to leave early."

Hagrid grinned: "That's more like it! Hogwarts will take good care of you two. Much better than those Muggle relatives."

Allen handed the old suitcase to Hagrid.

Hagrid took it, his hand sinking with the weight, then he lifted it and shook it.

"Why is it so light?"

"I'm poor."

Hagrid looked at the face that had just inherited half of the Potter Family estate, and didn't respond for a long while.

Harry lowered his head to stifle a laugh.

From the orphanage to King's Cross Station, Harry asked many questions along the way.

"Will the Hogwarts Express be very big?"

"Is there food on the train?"

"Do we start classes as soon as we arrive at school?"

Hagrid answered patiently, but halfway through, he would get sidetracked, talking from the express train to the Forbidden Forest, then from the Forbidden Forest to the Unicorn, and finally almost letting slip his ideas on how to raise a baby dragon.

Allen leaned against the car window to catch up on sleep.

It wasn't that he didn't want to listen; it was just that Hagrid told stories without any focus.

When the car stopped outside King's Cross Station, Harry had already read the ticket a dozen times.

"Platform Nine and Three-Quarters." Harry frowned, "Is this written wrong?"

Hagrid patted his chest: "That's correct. It's a platform in the magic world; Muggles can't see it."

"Then how do we get in?"

"Walk through it."

Harry looked up: "Through where?"

Hagrid pointed to the brick wall between Platform 9 and Platform 10.

Harry looked at the wall and didn't move for a long time.

Allen took his old suitcase and placed it on the trolley. To avoid trouble, he didn't put his things into his Portable Space. The station was crowded; Muggle eyes weren't worth much, but security cameras were.

Hagrid lowered his voice: "Don't be afraid, Harry. Push the trolley, walk straight, and don't stop. If you're nervous, run."

Harry swallowed hard: "What if I crash into it?"

Allen said: "Then at least it will prove your head is harder than the wall."

Harry glanced at him; his nervousness decreased slightly, but his resentment increased.

Hagrid's shoulders shook with laughter, drawing wary looks from nearby Muggles. He quickly quieted down and shoved the tickets into their hands.

"I'll leave you here. There are things waiting for me at school. Once you're inside, look for the train—the red one, it's very conspicuous. When you reach Hogsmeade, someone will meet you."

Harry gripped the ticket tightly: "You're not coming in?"

"No. Professor Dumbledore instructed that since it's crowded today, you should walk through it yourselves." Hagrid bent down to look at Harry, "You can do it."

These words were spoken for Harry.

Allen, however, heard another layer of meaning.

Walk through it yourselves.

Very well.

Dumbledore wasn't on the scene, yet he had arranged even the method of departure so decently. Letting the two children of the Potter Family walk through the wall alone and step into the magic world. For Harry, this was growth; for Allen, this was observation.

The old honey's hand reached out very steadily.

Harry pushed the trolley, standing before the brick wall, looking back and forth twice.

Allen didn't wait for him.

He pushed the trolley forward, his pace not fast.

The brick wall was right before his eyes. Not a single Muggle around looked back.

The next step, the wall swallowed the front of the trolley.

No impact, no resistance.

The noisy station sounds were left behind, and another kind of clamor rushed at him.

Steam, the hooting of owls, the shouts of students, the admonitions of parents—all crowded together.

A scarlet train was parked at the platform, white steam puffing from its engine, with the words "Hogwarts Express" written on its side.

Allen stopped the trolley and looked around.

This was the real entrance.

Not the brick wall, but the crowd.

Children of pure-blood families were surrounded by their parents checking their luggage; half-blood students were excited and nervous at the same time; Muggle-born freshmen found everything fresh. Several senior students dragged their trunks across the platform, with an annoying level of proficiency.

Everyone was looking for their own place.

Allen was the same.

Except his goal wasn't a seat in a carriage.

Not long after, Harry rushed out from the wall, his trolley nearly hitting a trunk in front.

Hedwig hooted discontentedly in her cage.

Harry steadied the trolley, looked at the train first, then at Allen, finally a smile appearing on his face.

"We really made it in."

Allen put the ticket away: "Otherwise, were you practicing crashing into walls just now?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh.

After laughing, he looked at the train, his tone lighter: "Shall we find a carriage together?"

Allen didn't answer.

Harry waited a few seconds, the smile slowly fading.

"Allen?"

Allen pushed the trolley forward two steps and stopped.

"Once we arrive at school, we go our separate ways."

Harry didn't react in time: "What do you mean?"

"Literally."

Harry's hands holding the birdcage tightened, then quickly relaxed.

"We are cousins."

"That's why I'm warning you." Allen looked at him, "Don't treat relatives as an amulet. At Hogwarts, the name Potter can't do your homework for you, nor can it block curses for you."

Harry lowered his head.

People came and went on the platform; no one cared what two freshmen were saying. The reputation of The Chosen One hadn't spread here yet; at least for now, no one crowded around to shake his hand.

This made Harry feel even worse.

At the Dursley family, he had no family.

Upon reaching the magic world, he thought he had at least one.

Allen saw his thoughts but did not offer any remedy.

If he remedied it once, there would be a second time.

Harry's path was in Gryffindor, in the center of Dumbledore's chessboard, in the scar left by Lord Voldemort. Allen needed to enter Slytherin, to hide in a place where the light couldn't reach.

Two lines could cross, but they couldn't be tied together.

Harry looked up: "Do you hate me?"

"No."

"Then why..."

"You have too much trouble."

Harry was speechless.

The answer was too direct; he couldn't even muster up any grievance.

Allen turned the trolley toward the back of the train: "You should go find your own friends. Don't follow me."

Harry said quietly: "I don't have any friends yet."

"Then go find some. The train is so long; surely someone is easier to talk to than I am."

That was indeed the truth.

Harry was left without a comeback.

In the distance, several students were shouting about finding empty carriages; owls were fluttering in their cages. The conductor blew a short whistle, reminding students to board as soon as possible.

Harry stood where he was, and after a moment, said: "Then... see you at school."

Allen nodded: "Don't be late, don't touch strange things, and don't trust benefits that are offered to you unsolicited."

Harry was stunned for a moment: "Does that count as caring?"

"It counts as after-sales service."

Harry finally smiled, though it didn't look very good.

Allen pushed the trolley away.

After walking a few steps, he lifted the old suitcase, using the crowd as cover, and the suitcase was put into his Portable Space. The trolley was empty, and he casually left it to the side.

Not far away, several pure-blood students wearing exquisite robes were saying goodbye to their parents. Those people didn't speak loudly, their movements were restrained, and even their hugs carried a sense of decorum.

The scent of Slytherin was already here.

Allen walked through the steam toward the back of the train.

Harry did not follow.

Very well.

The first cut wasn't pretty, but it was sufficient.

The orphanage, the Dursley family, Hagrid's goodwill, Harry's dependence—all were left on the platform. The path ahead, no one could walk it for anyone else.

Allen boarded the Hogwarts Express and found an empty carriage near the back.

The door closed.

The clamor outside was cut off, and the red carriage body outside the window reflected in the glass.

He sat down against the seat, sleepiness pressing down on him again.

The new chessboard had begun.