...
September 1st, King's Cross Station
The conductor rubbed his brow wearily. Every year on this day, he had to explain the same thing over and over again.
"Sorry, we really don't have Platform Nine and Three-Quarters here!"
Unfortunately, it didn't take long for the next person to ask the same question—always children, on the verge of adolescence.
And then there were the peculiar individuals who appeared at the station—people with behavior and attire that defied normal expectations. Just like the man in front of him: a solidly built figure in a floral dress, which made the conductor want to vomit.
Nearby, a girl with disheveled dark brown hair sighed. Before learning about the magical world, she'd have thought such people were eccentric performance artists. But Hermione Granger now realized these were wizards, utterly ignorant of Muggle customs.
"Wizards have a natural contempt for Muggles, and their arrogance means they rarely understand Muggle life," a gentle voice said behind her.
Hermione turned to see a boy smiling at her.
"Hello, my name is Dyroth Grindelwald, a new student at Hogwarts."
"Hermione Granger!" she responded, surprised.
Dyroth's smile widened. "You're a first-year at Hogwarts too, right?"
"Yes! But I've been searching for ages and still can't find Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. And the conductor doesn't seem to know anything about it!" Hermione said, looking distressed.
"Of course, the conductor doesn't know. You should ask the strange-looking people around us—they're wizards."
Hermione's eyes lit up. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Don't worry. Come with me; I'll take you there."
Noticing the heavy box Hermione was dragging, Dyroth casually pulled out his wand. "Reducio!"
Instantly, the trunk shrank to the size of a matchbox. Dyroth picked it up and slipped it into Hermione's pocket, leaving her in awe.
"Let's go, or we'll be late."
He led her to the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. Hermione blinked in confusion, but before she could ask, Dyroth guided her through it.
They emerged onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. It wasn't until they were seated in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express that Hermione finally found her voice.
"Did you just use a shrinking spell? Isn't that something we learn later? I don't remember seeing it in the first-year textbooks."
Dyroth smiled. "You're right. The Shrinking Charm isn't taught until the second year, in the second semester. But if you'd like, I can teach you."
"Really?" Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly covered her mouth, embarrassed by her reaction.
Dyroth chuckled and took out his wand again, demonstrating the basics of the spell.
Not long after, two identical red-haired boys poked their heads into the compartment.
"Oi, George, looks like we interrupted a budding romance!" one teased.
"Nah, Fred, who'd have thought Ron ditched his brothers for new friends?" the other added with a grin.
Their clothes were slightly singed, suggesting recent mischief. Dyroth didn't need to guess—they were the infamous Weasley twins.
"Hermione and I met at the station. We were just discussing spells," Dyroth said. "If you're looking for seats, feel free to join us."
He opened the door wider and gave Hermione a reassuring smile.
"Oh, Merlin's socks! Are all the first-years this advanced now?" Fred said, feigning amazement as he sat across from Dyroth.
George plopped down next to Fred and pulled out a large stack of parchment. "Knock it off, Fred. We need to catch up on homework. Percy's watching us like a hawk."
"If we don't finish, McGonagall will have our heads," Fred muttered, pulling out a quill.
(A quill is a writing instrument made from a feather whose tip has been cut into a pointed shape. It was the standard writing instrument in the wizarding world, as opposed to pens and pencils in the Muggle world. They usually had to be dipped into ink.)
Hermione stared at the twins, slightly bewildered. Before today, her only close contact with the magical world had been Professor McGonagall and Dyroth—both of whom were refined and dignified.
But these two... well, they were something else entirely.
"George, have you finished your History of Magic homework? Let me copy it," Fred asked, rummaging through his bag.
"Just a minute," George replied, searching through his own things.
Hermione, watching them with disbelief, finally spoke up. "You know, it's wrong to copy each other's homework! You should do it yourselves."
"Another McGonagall!" George joked, but he didn't seem bothered by her words.
After helping Fred with his History of Magic essay, George turned his attention to Potions.
"Fred, where do we get whirling stones again?"
"From a dog's belly, I think? Can't remember."
"Just fill something in for now," Fred said dismissively.
Hermione's ears perked up. Unable to ignore the conversation, she couldn't resist.
"No, no! Whirling stones come from the stomach of a goat, not a dog!" she burst out.
"Really?" George asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, they help with detoxification," Dyroth chimed in, confirming Hermione's statement.
George's eyes widened. "Mate, don't tell me you memorized the third-year Potions syllabus! That's supposed to be Snape's special torture."
"If you're talking about Chapter 3, Section 2 of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, then I'd say my memory's pretty accurate," Dyroth replied with a calm smile.
"Chapter 3, Section 2? Blimey, you memorized the whole book?" George gaped in disbelief.
Next to Dyroth, Hermione began to squirm uncomfortably. She had thought she was ahead by previewing some of her first-year material, but Dyroth was already familiar with third-year subjects!
"I wouldn't say I've memorized it, but I remember enough," Dyroth said.
"Savior! You're our savior!" Fred and George looked at Dyroth with mock reverence, pushing Hermione aside.
"Quick, help me out. What ingredients do we need for the Shrinking Solution?" Fred asked.
"Daisy roots, fig skins, caterpillars, a drop of leech juice, and mouse spleen," Dyroth rattled off.
"And what about wormwood?" George added.
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