Soon, Allen and Harry arrived at Platform 9, where the wizards who had tried to follow Allen were finally stopped.
It wasn't because they didn't have tickets—after all, the train platform allowed people to see others off.
The person who stopped them wasn't a Muggle station attendant either, but a wizarding platform guard.
"I'm sorry, everyone. Your actions have seriously threatened the secrecy of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," the wizard platform attendant said in a low, serious voice. "Even the Muggle-Repelling Charm can't keep this many people unnoticed at once. You're going to attract trouble."
The atmosphere grew tense, and their presence was interfering with the normal flow of students entering Hogwarts.
"I understand your feelings, but you can't continue to follow or send off your children like this. Give them some freedom."
The wizard platform clerk assumed they were from a large wizarding family, here to see their children off to school. But it didn't matter. Whether they were from an old pure-blood family—or even if the Minister of Magic himself had come...
Well, if the Minister of Magic came, that might be different.
But everyone else? They couldn't be allowed to interfere with Hogwarts students getting on the train.
Seeing the group of followers finally stopped, Allen breathed a sigh of relief and led Harry toward the stone pillar between Gates 3 and 4 on Platform 9.
Although Allen hadn't been a Harry Potter fan in his past life, he still knew about the legendary Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. If Ollivander's Wand Shop had been the beginning of a dream, then Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was the doorway to it.
But this pillar looked entirely ordinary—no different from the others on the platform. That, of course, was intentional. It ensured that Muggles wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary.
Allen also noticed that a faint magical field surrounded the area. Muggle eyes would subconsciously overlook this pillar. It helped Hogwarts students and their families avoid attracting attention when entering the platform. Still, there seemed to be a limit to this magic—otherwise, the station attendant wouldn't have had to stop people from gathering.
"Let's go in," Allen said to Harry, who was practically trailing behind like a follower at this point.
"Go in... go in where?" Harry stammered. "I was just about to ask—did we come to the wrong place? Why is there a Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?"
Before Harry could get his answer, Allen, looking impatient, pushed his luggage cart and ran directly at the wall.
"Alan... Alan, wait!" Harry shouted, eyes wide in panic, only to see Allen vanish into the wall as if it had swallowed him whole. He didn't even have time to react.
Then, to Harry's shock, Allen's head popped back out of the wall. He looked like he'd been half-swallowed by it—his head and arms emerging like some ghastly figure.
"Why are you still standing there?" Allen waved. "Come in."
Luckily, none of the nearby Muggles seemed to notice the odd scene.
Harry blinked, now fully convinced of the wall's magical nature. He nodded vigorously and pushed his trolley forward, Hedwig hooting nervously in her cage.
He rushed through the barrier.
As they emerged on the other side, two platform attendants immediately stepped forward and took their luggage.
"Please board the train quickly and don't block the passage. We'll handle your luggage and get it onto the baggage car," one of them said. With a push, the luggage cart began to move on its own, heading toward a conductor organizing baggage.
Before them stood a magnificent, old-fashioned steam train on the tracks. A crowd of students wearing Hogwarts robes bustled toward the carriages, chatting and laughing. Luggage carts trundled by. Employees shouted directions, while white steam hissed from the train's undercarriage and the distinct smell of burning coal filled the air.
"Congratulations on entering the magical world," Allen said to Harry with a small smile. "Of course, congratulations to me, too."
Harry looked at Allen, confused. Why congratulate? Shouldn't he have said welcome?
He didn't realize that what had just happened wasn't merely a welcome—it was the beginning of something far greater. For Allen, this was a fate-changing moment. Only the word congratulations could properly express how much this new life meant to him.
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At the same time, at Platform 7—also located at King's Cross Station—a tall figure moved slowly through the crowd.
It was Alberta.
Wearing a faded hunting coat and standing head and shoulders above the rest, Alberta stood out even more due to the heavy bandages that perpetually wrapped his arms and the unconcealable burn scars across his face.
Muggles gave him nervous glances. People like Alberta didn't just stand out—they unsettled others. Wherever he walked, people instinctively stepped away.
But Alberta didn't mind. He was long used to the stares, the distance. And today, he was in an exceptionally good mood.
He continued calmly to the boundary between Platforms 2 and 3. Raising his head slightly, he looked at the stone pillar ahead. Without hesitation, he took a step forward—and passed through.
Before him appeared a hidden platform. The sign above read: Platform Seven and One-Half.
This was a cross-border wizarding platform, where trains traveled to magical destinations beyond Britain.
It had been three years since Alberta last stood here.
Back then, he had been burdened with the enormous debt he owed St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He'd worked night shifts, hunted magical beasts, taken odd jobs—anything to clear it.
Now, finally, he was free. The debt was paid. And with that, the right to a new life had returned to him.
He inhaled deeply. The air smelled faintly of steam and burning coal—a crude scent, but one that held promise.
"New life," Alberta murmured.
He stepped onto the train waiting for him on the tracks.
A new journey had begun.
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