Hogwarts: Becoming the White Lord from Breathing

Chapter 7 Platform 9
Hogwarts school starts on September 1st.

The morning mist on the Thames had not yet dissipated. Damon got up early, put on a well-fitting casual suit, took a light suitcase, and set off for Platform 9 at King's Cross Station.

With a quick sprint towards the ticket gate between platforms 9 and 10, Damon successfully entered platform 9 and saw a crimson steam locomotive parked next to the platform packed with passengers.

A sign on the train read: Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock.

The thick smoke from the steam locomotive swirled above the chattering crowd, cats of all colors darted back and forth under people's feet, and students pushing luggage carts were like butterflies that had crashed into a spider web - the Weasleys' fiery red hair burned in the mist, Malfoy's light golden head floated above the crowd, and Hermione Granger's brown curly hair rose and fell with the rhythm of her turning the pages of "A History of Magic".

A freshman pushing a luggage cart bumped into Damon's birdcage while running. Cha Cha Barton flapped his wings in dissatisfaction in the gilded cage, and a few snowy owl feathers fell from the cage.

"I—I'm sorry—I think I rushed too hard."

"No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have stood there in a daze."

A clear and low voice gradually approached. Harry, who was sitting on the ground, subconsciously raised his head and saw a warm and slender hand. He subconsciously held it, and then was steadily pulled up by that hand.

Even though Harry Potter was a boy, he had to admit that the boy in front of him was really handsome. If they were familiar friends at this time, Harry would probably pat the other person on the shoulder and say, "Hey, buddy, you are so handsome."

But they were just strangers meeting for the first time, so he naturally couldn't say that.

In any case, Harry had a very good first impression of this person, and he couldn't help but say:
"Are you also a new student at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, my name is Damon White, you can just call me Damon."

"Are you Harry Potter?"

"Yes—it's me—"

Harry, who was about to introduce himself, felt a little uncomfortable and subconsciously moved his hair on his forehead to cover the scar.

He was a little worried that the boy in front of him would ask him questions like other people he had seen, or even shout excitedly.

Harry hoped not to if he could help it—there were so many people on the platform!
As he wished, but also contrary to his expectations, the handsome boy in front of him just smiled and turned away, ending the conversation in a somewhat abrupt way.

Looking at the other person's back with a suitcase in his left hand and an owl cage in his right hand, and thinking of the other person's slightly mysterious smile before, Harry subconsciously followed him.

"Is this your owl? He's the same color as my Hedwig."

"Yes, her name is Cha Cha Barton."

The owl in the golden cage glanced at Harry with disdain, obviously still angry about the previous collision.

Harry smiled awkwardly and gave Chacha Barton an apologetic look, then blurted out:
"Chacha Barton? It sounds like a strange name—I mean, it's a nice name."

"Your Hedwig is pretty good too, Bathilda Bagshot—A History of Magic, isn't it?"

"How did you know!" Harry felt so happy to have met a kindred spirit, and his attitude became even more enthusiastic.

"Well, I usually like reading."

The crowd around them was too crowded, so the two of them couldn't chat much and began to struggle to make their way through.

Harry found an empty compartment near the back of the car and happily turned around to look for Damon. The words came to his lips but he couldn't finish them.

"Damon, there's a spot here."

The other party's situation was not very good at the moment - the place where he was seemed to be extremely crowded, and was almost filled with a group of little witches.

Seeing Harry greeting Damon, their enthusiasm subsided a little, and Damon was able to pass through the crowd and come to Harry's side.

"Phew, thanks to you, Harry."

The two men put the owl in its place and moved the suitcases they were carrying towards the car door.

Harry tried to lift the suitcase onto the step, but he couldn't lift it at all. With his effort, the suitcase was about to fall heavily on his feet when he heard a strange spell.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Harry's grip loosened suddenly. The suitcase that he couldn't lift before was now as light as a feather. He didn't bother to move the suitcase anymore. He stared at Damon with wide eyes and said excitedly, "You have learned magic!"

Seeing someone his own age cast a spell was several times more shocking to Harry than Hagrid had ever been.

On those nights when he was ridiculed at the Dursleys' house, Dudley would often slam the fairy tale book in his face and yell, "Only monsters can do magic!" But now, he seemed to have seen a group of monsters like him - no, better than him.

"It's just the simplest levitation spell. It's in the Standard Book of Spells: Elementary. You'll be able to learn it right after you start school."

"No—this is different!"

Harry shook his head and wanted to say something else, but suddenly he couldn't help but reflect on himself - was he making a fuss out of nothing?

So he stopped talking and quietly put the suitcase in the corner of the compartment.

At this moment, a proud voice sounded behind them:

"Yes, it's completely different. Some spells can have terrible consequences if read incorrectly. I never dared to try them. The fact that you can use them so freely is enough to show your ability."

Damon turned his head and saw the girl with fluffy brown hair. His eyes flashed across her prominent front teeth.

The two boys then sat down, and the girl introduced herself confidently:

"Hello, my name is Hermione Granger."

"Damon White."

"Harry Potter."

"Ah!" Hermione suddenly screamed excitedly, "Is it really you? I know everything about you!

Of course, I bought a few extra reference books, including Modern History of Magic, The Rise and Fall of Dark Magic, and Important Magical Events of the 20th Century. You are mentioned in all of these books."

"Mentioned me?" said Harry, feeling suddenly dizzy.

"Oh my God, you don't know that. If it were me, I would definitely find a way to find all the books that mentioned me." Hermione said excitedly.

At this time, Damon silently took out a book called "Magic Defense Theory" and began to read quietly.

He didn't like the content of the conversation.

For Harry, the night he lost his parents was an eternal pain, and there was no way he would be happy that such a thing was recorded.

Hermione saw that Damon was actually reading a book, his eyes were so bright that they almost glowed, and she was a little conflicted for a moment - should she continue chatting with the legendary "Boy Who Lived" or start a new conversation with the fellow enthusiast in front of her?

Just as she was struggling, a round-faced boy stood hesitantly at the door of the compartment, which had not yet been closed, and stammered:
"Hello, can I sit with you?"

"Of course, please come in!"

Hermione spoke first, and Harry looked at the boy at the door expectantly.

"Hello, my name is Neville."

Neville subconsciously sat next to Harry, his fingers twirling incessantly.

Damon put down the book and glanced at Neville, a smile appearing on his face.

Gryffindor Swordmaster? Now he really looked like the innocent boy next door.

"Neville, what's moving in your pocket?"

Harry looked curiously at Neville's pocket.

"Ah, it's my pet, Leif, he always likes to run around."

(End of this chapter)