The past month had been extraordinarily productive.
Although Morrin had yet to formally begin school, he had used [Origin of Alchemy] and [Logical Mind Palace] to devour the entire first-year curriculum at home.
Potions and Transfiguration in particular had proven fascinating.
With the underlying principles granted by his knowledge of alchemy, Morrin had discovered that what wizards called ‘magic’ was, at its core, little more than a set of formulas governing the conversion of energy and matter.
Provided one possessed sufficient computational ability and precise enough control over magic, it was essentially a highly exact science.
Of course, learning to control the violent magic brought about by his [Half Giant Bloodline] had resulted in the basement needing to be renovated another three times.
“Platform Nine…
Platform Ten…” Morrin stopped between the two platforms.
To his eyes, the apparently solid brick barrier was giving off faint ripples of magic.
Just then, a noisy group caught his attention.
“Come along!
Packed with Muggles, of course…
This is the place…
Ron, don’t dawdle!” A short, plump, kindly looking woman with red hair was shepherding an entire flock of equally red haired children.
They pushed rickety trolleys piled high with battered trunks and old books.
The Weasley family.
Morrin paused and regarded the quintessential family with interest.
Poor.
But bursting with life.
That was his first impression of the Weasleys.
“Fred, you first!” the plump woman called.
“I’m not Fred, I’m George!” one of the twins protested.
“Honestly, woman, call yourself our mother?
Can’t you tell I’m George?” “Sorry, George, dear.” “Only joking.
I am Fred.” The boy grinned, shoved his trolley towards the barrier, and vanished straight through it.
Morrin narrowed his eyes.
The system interface quietly unfolded, locking onto the twins.
━━━━━ 🔍 SCAN ━━━━━ Scanning target: Fred & George Weasley [Traits detected] 🟣 Purple | Twin Telepathy Their thoughts are linked, allowing them to coordinate almost perfectly.
Put the two of them across a business negotiating table and they would be nearly unbeatable.
━━━ 🔵 Blue | Prankster Genius (Apex) When it comes to breaking rules and creating chaos, their creativity is extraordinary.
━━━ 🔵 Blue | Alchemical Intuition (Undeveloped) They instinctively understand how to infuse objects with magic.
They currently use that talent to make prank products, but it is unquestionably the rudimentary form of alchemy.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Interesting.
Morrin rubbed his chin.
Alchemical Intuition?
Now that is scarce talent.
If he ever intended to build an industrial operation in the wizarding world, those twins might make excellent heads of research and development.
At that moment, Harry Potter appeared, breathlessly pushing a trolley.
“Hagrid abandon you?” Morrin asked lightly as he walked over.
“Morrin!” Harry’s eyes immediately lit up at the sight of someone familiar, like a drowning man spotting a lifeline.
“Thank goodness!
Hagrid gave me my ticket and then left…
I asked a guard, but he said there wasn’t any Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
I thought I’d been tricked.” “Calm yourself, Mr Saviour.” Morrin pointed towards the brick barrier.
“That’s the entrance.
Watch the red haired family.” Harry turned just in time to see Percy Weasley disappear through the wall.
“That…” Harry swallowed.
“We have to run into it?” “Walk through it.
If you’re nervous, running helps.” By then, Mrs Weasley had noticed the two boys.
Harry’s obvious helplessness caught her attention first, followed by Morrin’s conspicuously expensive clothes.
“First time going to Hogwarts, are you?
Ron’s new too.” Mrs Weasley gestured towards a tall, red haired, freckled boy beside her who looked slightly awkward.
Ron gave them an uncertain smile.
His eyes lingered for a second on Morrin’s obviously expensive cashmere coat before quickly darting away, a hint of self consciousness passing across his face.
“Yes,” Harry said.
“But this wall…” “Don’t worry.” Mrs Weasley patiently explained how to get through.
Harry gathered his courage and charged forwards with his trolley.
Morrin inclined his head politely towards Mrs Weasley.
“Thank you for your guidance, madam.” The effortless manners and elegance ingrained into his every movement made Mrs Weasley blink.
Then her smile grew even warmer.
“Oh, what a polite young gentleman.
Off you go, dear.
You don’t want to miss the train.” Morrin pushed his trolley towards the wall at an unhurried pace.
The moment he reached it, there was no sensation of impact.
Only a cool breeze brushing across his face.
Then the world opened before him.
A deep scarlet steam locomotive stood beside a platform packed with people, billowing clouds of white steam into the air.
A sign on the engine read: HOGWARTS EXPRESS — 11 O’CLOCK Cats of every colour wound between people’s ankles while owls hooted from cages all along the platform.
Morrin did not even bother forcing his way through the crowd.
He merely allowed the faintest trace of the presence from his [Half Giant Bloodline] to leak out.
People around him instinctively decided that this particular child looked like someone best not inconvenienced and moved aside, opening a path without even realising why.
He soon found Harry.
Harry was struggling to haul his heavy trunk up the steps into the carriage.
The thing was so heavy that it slipped and landed on his foot.
“Need a hand?” asked the red haired boy, Ron, as he approached.
“Thanks!” Harry said gratefully.
The two boys strained together, but even between them they could barely shift it.
Then Morrin walked over.
He caught the enormous trunk with one hand.
The piece of luggage that had left Harry and Ron completely defeated rose as though it were an empty cardboard box.
Morrin casually tossed it into the corridor of the carriage.
“Whoa…” Ron’s eyes widened.
“You’re really strong.” “Just a bit of…
exercise.” Morrin dusted off his hands and stepped onto the train first.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ The train pulled away, and the houses and fields beyond the windows began racing backwards.
Morrin, Harry, and Ron sat together in the same compartment.
The atmosphere was slightly awkward.
Morrin occupied the window seat with a copy of A Guide to Intermediate Transfiguration in his hands, reading it with the intense concentration of a financier studying an annual report.
Across from him, Harry and Ron both seemed somewhat ill at ease.
Ron kept sneaking glances at Morrin.
The black haired boy exerted an enormous amount of pressure without seeming to try.
The perfectly straight posture even while seated, the elegant way he turned each page, and the black walking stick resting beside his hand…
All of it reminded Ron slightly of Malfoy.
Yet Morrin lacked Malfoy’s irritating arrogance.
There was instead a certain…
distant refinement about him.
“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron finally asked, unable to bear the silence any longer.
Harry nodded and lifted his fringe to show the scar.
The two soon launched into an animated conversation about Harry’s scar and Voldemort, although Ron could not bring himself to say the name aloud.
After they had been talking for a while, the witch with the food trolley arrived.
“Anything off the trolley, dears?” Ron flushed and held up a rather squashed sandwich.
“I’ve brought sandwiches.” Harry, flush with the excitement of his newly discovered inheritance, promptly bought a mountain of sweets and snacks.
“We can share!” Harry offered generously.