The shrill whistle of the steam engine echoed through the air as everything proceeded in an orderly fashion, stepping onto the true path of destiny.
King's Cross Station was crowded with Muggles, rushing between Platform Nine and Platform Ten.
Anruier was wearing a windbreaker that looked much like a cloak. Yet, because it was an outfit that would at worst be considered a bit eccentric in the Muggle world, Muggles occasionally cast a second glance at his way.
Still, they were not overly suspicious.
After all, wearing such a garment in September, though strange, was still within the realm of what Muggles could accept...
Anruier’s luggage was already at Hogwarts, so he did not have anything as eye-catching as an owl by his side. His purpose in coming today was to help Dumbledore handle a minor matter...
A strictly confidential minor matter.
Well, just kidding. Hagrid had already retrieved the stone, and barring any accidents, that object should currently be sitting on Dumbledore's desk.
The only reason Anruier had appeared here was that he also wanted to see in advance what kind of child this so-called "Savior" actually was.
This was a little secret of his own, one he would never tell a soul—
The identity of a "transmigrator" sounded so absurd no matter how one put it.
"Fred! George! You two, whichever one of you it is, be quiet! Look at Percy!"
Without needing to guess, this was Mrs. Weasley's voice. Anruier immediately spotted the plump, kind-faced woman with red hair.
A commotion rose from near Platform Nine, and Anruier briskly walked toward the other side.
A thin, dark-haired boy was pushing a trolley that looked exceptionally heavy, complete with a snow-white owl perched on top—a very strange sight indeed.
Harry Potter’s appearance was far from handsome. In Anruier's eyes, stripping away his glittering title, what lay before him was merely a scrawny and pitiable child.
Even though Anruier was practically only a year older than young Harry, his soul belonged to a bona fide adult.
"Kid, what are you doing here? Can't find the platform?"
Harry looked up in confusion, only to be met by a large windbreaker.
Anruier lifted the corner of his hood, peering closely at this wildly famous child.
Just as a certain professor had said, he truly had a pair of striking green eyes...
For Professor Snape, staring straight into these eyes was much like Dumbledore looking into Anruier's eyes—
To put it bluntly, deeply agonizing...
Then again, only Professor Snape would find it agonizing; Dumbledore took it all in stride.
For Harry possessed the face of James Potter, while Anruier’s appearance was the spitting image of a young Grindelwald.
Anruier leaned in close to Harry's ear and whispered softly, "Want to go to Hogwarts, do you?"
Harry Potter nodded quickly, and Anruier let out a dry chuckle:
"No Muggle takes a train while carrying an owl. Hurry up, come this way, you're going to be late."
"Platform Nine and Three-Quarters is right where its name describes. You just need to stand right between Platform Nine and Platform Ten and walk straight through the wall..."
By this time, the Weasley family had already vanished. Anruier pointed at the brick barrier:
"Then, pretend nothing is happening, and slip right through the wall without leaving a trace..."
Anruier's cloak vanished into the wall, leaving behind a stunned, dumbfounded little Harry.
The boy made a quick decision, and a few seconds later, nothing happened.
Gathering his courage, he gripped the handle of his trolley and charged straight into the wall between Nine and Ten...
"Doesn't that feel rather nice, wouldn't you say?"
Anruier looked around. By now, the familiar faces were growing numerous—
Most of the people still lingering outside the carriages to say goodbye to their families were this year's first-year arrivals.
"Thank you."
"Oh, don't mention it. It's only right for an upperclassman to help."
"An upperclassman?"
"If you don't mind, let's get on the train first. We can find a compartment and keep talking."
With Anruier's help, Harry successfully hoisted his heavy trunk into the luggage compartment.
"Let me introduce myself first. My name is Anruier, Anruier Grindelwald."
"Hello, I'm Harry, Harry Potter."
"Ah, I've heard of you. Just like that."
"Um...?"
"If Hagrid were here, he'd be the one introducing me to you. I've already heard about you from him—
Though of course, I mean your appearance. Your fame is already immense; practically the entire British wizarding world knows you."
"Er..." For a moment, Harry did not know how to respond.
That was inevitable. Whenever other children heard the name Harry Potter, they would immediately start talking about his scar or something similar, whereas Anruier clearly had no interest in those matters—
The stories of his own were hardly any fewer than Harry Potter's.
With a soft swish, the compartment door slid open, and a red-haired, freckled boy stood in the doorway.
"Mind if I sit here? Every other compartment is full..."
Harry looked at Anruier with an inquiring gaze.
"Of course. A Weasley, hmm?"
Ron nodded and sat down next to Harry.
"Ah, little Ronnie, so you've already found yourself a seat..."
A loud voice rang out from the doorway of the compartment.
It was the Weasley twins.
"Wait, wait, George, he's..." Fred noticed the dark-haired boy sitting beside Ron, along with the faint outline of a lightning-bolt scar hidden beneath his fringe.
"You're..."
"Ah, hello. My name is Harry, Harry Potter."
The two brothers gasped in unison, making one wonder if there was a mirror hidden between them.
Then they chuckled and departed from the compartment together, their pacing remarkably synchronized.
"Fred Weasley, George Weasley, the famously mischievous Weasley twins of Gryffindor. If I'm not mistaken, they ought to be the two older brothers of your fellow classmate here."
Anruier spoke, smiling at Harry, which caused Ron's face to flush red.
"Are you really Harry Potter?"
Ron blurted out the question without giving it much thought.
Young Harry nodded.
"And do you really have... I mean... the scar?"
Harry gently lifted the hair covering his forehead, revealing a jagged mark.
"Brilliant..."
When the snack trolley rolled past the doorway, it briefly interrupted the harmonious atmosphere of the three boys in the compartment, who had been taking turns asking, answering, and listening.
"Could I have all your licorice wands, please? Thank you, ma'am. And I'll take a few of those other lovely little sweets as well."
"Hey, Lee, watch your hat!"
The journey was anything in the world except dull—or rather, wherever the Weasley twins were, it was utterly impossible for things to be dull, even if that place happened to be Umbridge's office.
Anruier had no doubt that if House points could be deducted while still on the train, the pair would have managed to dock Gryffindor a hundred points before the term even began.
Amidst the eating, drinking, and casual chatting, Anruier also caught a glimpse of Hermione, who was helping look for Neville's runaway toad.
To be honest, as a veteran Harry Potter fan from his past life who had analyzed the original books and appreciated the films as well, Anruier had his thoughts.
Although Hermione in this world wasn't quite as dazzlingly pretty as young Emma Watson, enough to outshine the original school belle...
She certainly wasn't ugly, either; comparing her to a squirrel or a beaver was going a bit too far.
Anruier cast a subtle glance at the gray rat, Scabbers, who currently had his head buried deep inside a box of peanuts.
The Gryffindor golden trio practically knew one another by now, though true mutual trust would only come after a certain bit of chaos.
Apart from Anruier, nobody else knew what kind of massive trouble these three would stir up in this brand-new year.
From that perspective, one had to admit Professor Snape's viewpoint was entirely correct—
Where Potter was, trouble was bound to follow.
Of course, even though Anruier was a Ravenclaw student, he had no intention of missing out on such entertaining chaos.
He had once read a transmigration novel in his previous life, and the underlying principle went something like this:
If you lack strength, you should never get close to the protagonists—stay as far away from them as possible;
Yet if you have the power to do whatever you please and still choose not to go looking for some fun, you are no different from a salted fish.
"First-years this way!"
Anruier had originally thought about simply flying straight across the Black Lake, but unfortunately, he couldn't do that.
Otherwise, at this year's welcoming feast, he would be even more famous than Harry Potter.
Obediently taking his seat in a carriage, Anruier gazed at the Thestrals pulling the vehicle ahead.
He had to admit, Thestrals truly were lovely creatures; he rather fancied raising a magical beast like this himself...
The Thestrals moved at a brisk pace. Soon, the carriage arrived, and Anruier stepped out, following the crowd into the Great Hall.
The sound of forks tapping against goblets echoed throughout the hall.
"Quiet down, older students! The first-year Sorting Ceremony is about to begin!"
Albus Dumbledore stood at his place at the head table, calling for quiet.
The doors of the Great Hall swung open, and Minerva McGonagall walked in wearing deep green robes, followed by a line of trembling first-years.
Last year, Anruier had successfully made a massive impression during the Sorting Ceremony, but this year's undisputed protagonist was Mr. Harry Potter.
There were so many familiar scenes—scenes Anruier had imagined in his mind countless times—now unfolding right before his eyes. It was truly moving.
"Hannah Abbott!"
Professor McGonagall called out the first name. As the very first child whose surname started with A, she was bound to kick off the list in every single record of the 1991 Hogwarts term Anruier had read in his past life.
After all, protagonists come and go, but Hannah Abbott is eternal.
The sorting continued, until...
"Draco Malfoy!"
"Slytherin!"
Anruier rubbed his eyes, seriously doubting whether the Sorting Hat had even touched Malfoy's blonde hair before shouting it out.
The sorting went on, and quickly at that.
"Harry Potter!"
Whispers broke out across the hall.
The hat was dropped onto the simple-minded boy's head, covering his eyes. Aside from Anruier, no one knew what the hat was thinking.
After a long moment...
"Well, if you're quite sure... then it had better be—"
"Gryffindor!!"
Thunderous applause and cheers erupted from the table belonging to the lions.
"We got Potter! We got Potter!"
Anruier shook his head. Though he wasn't particularly eager to admit it, for some reason he felt rather annoyed...
Oh well, no need to bicker with children...
The remaining first-years weren't particularly interesting to watch. By comparison, Anruier cared far more about his pumpkin pasty...
Dumbledore stood up and delivered an inspiring speech:
"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you all!"
A faint smile touched the corner of Anruier's lips.
After everyone had eaten their fill of pumpkin juice and food, Dumbledore stood up once more to emphasize a few rules:
First, the Forbidden Forest was strictly off-limits to all students;
Second, any students who wished to avoid a grisly demise should avoid the right-hand corridor on the third floor;
Third, Mr. Filch wished to remind everyone that no magic was to be cast in the corridors between classes.
"That's all for now. And now, let us sing the school song! Everyone pick their favorite tune."
Just as Anruier raised his head, he happened to catch Professor McGonagall's smile freeze on her face—
A rare sight indeed.
(McGonagall: The Headmaster is acting up again. Can anyone relate?)
Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,
Teach us something please,
Whether we be old and bald,
Or young with scabby knees,
Our heads could do with some filling,
Of interesting stuff,
For they're currently full of air,
Dead flies and fluff,
So teach us things worth knowing,
Bring back what we've forgot,
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,
And learn until our brains all rot.
What on earth was this? A timeless classic?
Once the feast concluded, the prefects led the first-years of their respective houses toward the common rooms and dormitories. They were all exhausted, and other students were also making their way toward their house common rooms one after another... Naturally, Anruier didn't return with them.
As long as he didn't break school rules, nearly all the professors turned a blind eye to Anruier's behavior.
After all, who could object to the top-ranking student in the year and the Headmaster's favorite pupil?
"Professor."
"Ah, my boy, you've come. Let's be off, then."
Dumbledore replied briskly, waving cheerfully to the other professors as he hopped down briskly from the head table and walked with Anruier toward the corridor.
"I'm sorry to trouble you with this favor so late at night, my boy."
"It's no trouble at all, sir. I assume it has something to do with that certain object Hagrid retrieved, doesn't it?"
"Ah, you are far too clever. This is bound to bring some trouble..."
Dumbledore chuckled softly as two giant stone lions swung open before the old man and the youth.
Dumbledore was an exceptionally capable wizard, of that there was no doubt. He was well aware that Anruier possessed formidable personal abilities and could be placed precisely where he was needed most.
That meant he clearly couldn't be treated as a mere twelve-year-old child.
After all, no ordinary twelve-year-old possessed such terrifying magical power—not even Tom Riddle back in the day, seeing as Riddle had only murdered his father's entire family when he was in his fifth year.
"Also, if Mr. Potter and his friends happen to wander into places they shouldn't, do be sure to let me know, won't you?"
"Of course."
"Thank you, my boy."
The two of them stepped into the office, and apart from the portraits of past headmasters lining the walls, no one else would ever know what they plotted in secret, or what they went off to do.