King's Cross Station bustled with the usual rush of travellers, yet amid the ordinary chaos a small, understated yet unmistakable group gathered between platforms nine and ten to see one of their own off.
No media cameras appeared anywhere, but several plainclothes security personnel had positioned themselves discreetly around the station.
Bodyguard Paul stood at a vantage point that let him survey the entire scene without drawing notice, his eyes sweeping the surroundings with quiet alertness.
Charles and Diana, clad in simple dark coats and sunglasses, did their best to melt into the background, though their natural charisma still pulled a few fleeting glances their way.
William and Harry, by contrast, made no attempt to hide their excitement; they circled Henry and his luggage with restless energy.
His grandparents had remained absent, their presence far too conspicuous and certain to draw the media; without the current security cordon, the whole family would already have been ringed by reporters.
Henry's luggage stayed minimal: a dark leather suitcase that appeared imbued with a seamless stretching spell, and a sturdy owl cage holding his snowy owl, Mercury, whose face always seemed lost in philosophical thought.
He had dressed in ordinary jeans and an Oxford shirt beneath a casual jacket, the very image of any well-off high-school preparatory student.
"Is everything packed? Have you checked the list?" Princess Diana asked for the tenth time, her fingers unconsciously smoothing a wrinkle in Henry's jacket.
"Everything's here, Mother. Textbooks, robes, cauldron, scales, and Mercury," Henry answered patiently, squeezing her slightly cold hand.
Charles glanced toward the station's perimeter and whispered a reminder for Henry to stay careful once he reached school.
"I'll write on time, Father," Henry replied with a smile.
William tugged at Henry's sleeve, lowering his voice while his eyes shone. "Henry, if you really see a flying broom, could… could you get me a model? Just the most basic one!"
Harry looked up, reluctance plain on his face. "You'll be back for Christmas, right? Will you really have magic then?"
"I'll try to get a model, and I promise I'll be back for Christmas," Henry assured them with a smile, ruffling his two younger brothers' hair.
He glanced at the enormous clock that dominated the center of the station; its hands edged closer to 10:50.
The moment had arrived.
"Well then, I should get going." Henry drew a steadying breath and gave his family a reassuring smile.
He lifted his suitcase and the owl cage.
Under the watchful eyes of everyone he loved, he pushed the luggage cart straight toward the apparently solid wall between Platforms Nine and Ten.
Following the description Dumbledore had given him, he found the entrance where many wizards already queued to pass through.
The instant he stepped forward, the sensation felt exactly like gliding through a warm soap bubble—a gentle, brief weightlessness washed over him, and then brightness bloomed on every side.
Before him stretched a wide stone platform beneath a dome that magically simulated a bright autumn sky.
A gleaming, deep-red steam locomotive belched billowing white smoke, and a bold sign on its front announced: The Hogwarts Express, departing at 11:00.
The platform thronged with life: young wizards in black robes chatted excitedly, parents delivered last-minute instructions while hugging and waving goodbye, owls flapped and hooted inside their cages, cats wove nimbly between legs, and toads occasionally leaped from baskets, sparking small bursts of laughter.
The air carried the sharp scent of coal smoke, the sweet aroma of pumpkin pie, and an indescribable, wonderful fragrance that seemed to belong only to this place.
Henry wove through the bustling crowd with his luggage, following the flow of passengers toward the train's open doors.
He deliberately avoided the noisy carriages already packed with older students, heading instead toward the rear of the train in search of a quieter compartment.
Luck stayed with him; he found an empty one in one of the last carriages.
He placed his suitcase carefully on the luggage rack and set Mercury's cage on the empty seat beside the window.
The snowy owl shifted with clear displeasure before settling once more into its philosopher-like gaze.
Henry sat by the window, letting his eyes drift to the farewell scene still unfolding outside.
Not long afterward, the sliding door of the compartment eased open.
A girl with a round face and two golden braids peeked inside. She looked a little nervous, yet her eyes shone with friendliness.
"Excuse me, are there any seats available here? It seems like all the other places are full." Her voice stayed soft.
"Of course, please come in." Henry smiled and nodded, rising at once to help lift her small suitcase onto the luggage rack.
"Thank you! I'm Hannah Abbott." The girl sank into the seat opposite him with a sigh of relief and introduced herself.
Oh?
Although Henry did not read too much fanfiction, he recognized her name at once.
"Henry Welsh. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Abbott." He used his pseudonym, keeping his tone perfectly natural.
"Just call me Hannah." Hannah seemed to relax a fraction more; she studied him with open curiosity. "Are you a first years too? You look… well, very calm."
Realizing the remark might have sounded odd, she added quickly, "Most first years are either excitedly chattering away right now or a little uneasy about leaving home…"
"Just trying to stay calm. Actually, I'm quite excited too," Henry answered, keeping his reply pleasantly vague.
At that moment the compartment door opened again, and a brown-haired girl stepped inside. She carried herself with more composure than Hannah.
"Hannah! Oh, you're here too. Is there any room in this compartment?" the newcomer asked.
"Susan! Yes, come in quickly." Hannah greeted her with delight and turned to Henry. "This is Susan Bones; we're neighbors. Susan, this is Henry Welsh."
Susan Bones gave Henry a polite nod, set down her luggage, and took the seat beside Hannah.
"Hello, Mr. Welsh. I hope we haven't bothered you."
"Not at all, Miss Bones. It's more lively with more people," Henry replied gently.
He could sense that both girls came from wizarding families; their manners were courteous, slightly reserved, yet free of any malice. They were definitely not prospective Slytherins.
Just then the train gave its whistle, lurched once, and began to pull smoothly away from the platform.
The view beyond the window started to slide past; the crowds on the platform and the magical arch receded into the distance.
The three children turned instinctively toward the glass, watching London's streets fall behind them. A shared thrill of excitement laced with the trepidation of stepping into the unknown filled the small compartment.
They began to talk, Hannah and Susan carrying most of the conversation as they shared their daydreams about Hogwarts and speculated on which house the Sorting Hat would choose for each of them.
Henry listened for the most part, offering only an occasional harmless comment—neither so enthusiastic that it might raise suspicion nor so detached that he seemed aloof.