Ethan activated Observation Haki.
Almost immediately, several irritated voices surfaced through the noise of King’s Cross Station.
“…bloody Muggles standing everywhere…” “…move your cart already…” “…if we miss the train again Mum’ll kill us…” His attention shifted instinctively toward the source.
Then, at almost the exact same moment, someone hurried past him pushing a trolley hard enough for one wheel to wobble violently against the floor.
Black hair.
Glasses.
An owl cage rattling precariously beside a battered trunk.
The boy looked completely lost.
Ethan glanced at him once— and spoke before really thinking about it.
“You looking for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters too?” The boy spun around immediately.
Relief hit his face so fast it was almost painful to watch.
“You are too?” “Yeah.” Ethan jerked his head toward the station interior.
“Come on.
I figured out where it is.” The boy hurried after him without hesitation.
“You’re starting Hogwarts too?” he asked once they started walking.
Seeing someone his own age had clearly calmed him down already.
“I’m Harry Potter, by the way.
What’s your name?” Ethan’s steps slowed slightly.
Harry Potter.
Well.
That explained the strange sense of familiarity.
“I’m Ethan Vale,” he replied.
“Just Ethan’s fine.” “Ethan,” Harry repeated easily, grinning for a moment before curiosity immediately took over again.
“So are you actually from China?
Does Hogwarts take students from there too?” “Technically, my family background is from there,” Ethan answered.
“But I grew up in a London orphanage.” Harry’s expression shifted instantly.
“Oh.” The excitement on his face dimmed into immediate guilt.
“Sorry.” Ethan waved it off.
“It’s not a big deal.
Honestly, orphanages aren’t always terrible.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Sister Anna ran ours like a military camp disguised as a church.” Harry blinked.
“…What?” “If three kids started fighting,” Ethan continued solemnly, “she somehow appeared before the first punch even landed.” “That sounds terrifying.” “It was terrifying.” Harry laughed before he could stop himself.
The tension around him loosened slightly.
Ethan continued more quietly, “Still… she took good care of us.
We had food.
Friends.
People who actually noticed if we disappeared.” Harry’s smile faded a little at that.
“I’m an orphan too,” he admitted after a moment.
“But I lived with my aunt and uncle.” The hesitation in his voice said the rest.
Ethan glanced sideways at him but didn’t interrupt.
Maybe because they shared similar backgrounds— or maybe because Ethan listened without trying to force sympathy— Harry found himself talking far more easily than usual.
The cupboard.
The shouting.
Being ignored unless something went wrong.
Years of feeling unwanted in his own home.
The words came out awkwardly at first.
Then faster.
Ethan listened quietly the entire time.
By the end, Harry looked almost embarrassed by how much he’d said.
Ethan reached over and gave his shoulder a light pat.
“The moment you get on that train,” he said calmly, “your old life’s basically over.” Harry blinked.
“You’ll make friends at Hogwarts,” Ethan continued.
“Probably sooner than you think.” There was something oddly certain about the way he said it.
Not empty reassurance.
Not pity.
Just confidence.
Harry felt some invisible pressure inside his chest loosen for the first time all day.
A few minutes later, Ethan finally stopped walking.
“There.” Harry looked up.
Then stared directly at the solid barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten.
“…That’s a wall.” “It’s an enchanted entrance,” Ethan explained.
“You run straight through it.” Harry looked horrified.
Ethan grabbed his trolley.
“See you on the other side.” Then he broke into a run directly at the bricks.
Harry’s eyes widened violently.
“WAIT—” Too late.
Ethan vanished cleanly through the wall.
Harry froze in place.
Several nearby Muggles continued walking around them completely oblivious.
“…Ethan?” No answer.
Harry stared at the barrier another few seconds like it had personally betrayed him.
Then, swallowing hard, he tightened his grip on the trolley handle and sprinted forward.
For one brief instant— darkness swallowed his vision.
Then steam blasted across his face.
Voices echoed everywhere.
Scarlet train cars stretched across the platform beneath drifting white smoke.
Above him hung a sign: Platform Nine and Three-Quarters “Harry!” He turned.
Ethan stood farther ahead beside the train entrance.
“Hurry up,” he called.
“Unless you want to explain to Hogwarts why you missed the train on your first day.” Harry immediately shoved his trolley forward again.
Once aboard, the two boys found an empty compartment near the middle of the train.
Neither of them particularly lacked money.
So when the snack trolley finally arrived— things escalated rapidly.
Chocolate Frogs.
Pumpkin Pasties.
Fizzing Whizzbees.
Cauldron Cakes.
Licorice Wands.
Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.
By the time the trolley witch left, the compartment looked less like student seating and more like a small-scale confectionery disaster zone.
Harry stared at the pile in awe.
“I’ve never had most of these before.” Ethan picked up a Chocolate Frog thoughtfully.
“I respect any civilization capable of weaponizing this much sugar.” Harry laughed hard enough that he nearly dropped his Pumpkin Pasty.
While Harry approached every snack with fascinated wonder, Ethan evaluated them with the ruthless seriousness of someone mentally ranking fast food.
Some were incredible.
Some were crimes against humanity.
Bertie Bott’s beans especially felt less like candy and more like psychological warfare.
Halfway through the box, Ethan silently concluded the inventor had probably hated children.
Their conversation drifted naturally after that.
School.
Magic.
What Hogwarts might be like.
Then eventually family again.
Learning Ethan had also grown up without parents created an immediate sense of familiarity Harry clearly wasn’t used to feeling.
Not pity.
Understanding.
For a while, the atmosphere inside the compartment grew surprisingly comfortable.
Then the compartment door slid open.
A red-haired boy stood outside looking deeply uncertain whether he should leave immediately.
His robes looked worn.
Freckles covered his face.
And judging by the expression he wore, he’d already prepared himself for rejection before opening the door.
Harry noticed him first.
“You can come in if you want,” he offered quickly.
The boy blinked.
Then his eyes landed on the mountain of snacks.
“…You sure?” “Course,” Harry said.
After only a brief hesitation, the boy stepped inside gratefully.
“Thanks.” He accepted a pastry like someone afraid the offer might disappear if he moved too slowly.
“I’m Ron Weasley.” “Harry Potter.” Ron nearly inhaled the pastry whole.
“Wait—what?” Harry looked instantly awkward again.
“If there isn’t another Harry Potter, then… yeah.” Ron stared at him with open disbelief.
Then, with absolutely zero hesitation— “Can I see the scar?” Harry laughed awkwardly and pushed his bangs aside.
Ron leaned forward like he’d just been granted access to a historical artifact.
“Blimey…” Then his attention shifted toward Ethan.
“You from China or something?” Unlike Harry’s careful curiosity, Ron’s question came out with complete blunt honesty.
Ethan didn’t mind.
“Family’s originally from there,” he answered while flipping another page.
The book resting in his hands read: Practical Defensive Magic Against the Dark Arts.
Definitely not normal first-year material.
The text focused heavily on curse recognition, hostile spell response, and surviving encounters with dangerous magical creatures.
Exactly the kind of information Ethan wanted before exploring places normal students wisely avoided.
Like the Forbidden Forest.
As for the actual first-year curriculum— he’d practically memorized it already.
Ron watched Ethan turn pages at alarming speed for nearly a full minute.
His expression gradually became more suspicious with every flip.
Finally, he snorted.
“Mate,” he said, waving a candy bar dramatically in front of Ethan’s face, “there aren’t any professors here.” Harry looked confused.
Ron pointed accusingly at the book.
“You don’t have to fake-read that hard to look impressive.” Ethan paused.
Then immediately understood the misunderstanding.
Honestly, it was a reasonable conclusion.
Most people didn’t read like they were speedrunning existence itself.
Instead of explaining, Ethan simply smiled faintly and turned another page.
Ron narrowed his eyes harder.
Which somehow only made the situation funnier.
Extra chapters are already prepared… waiting to be unleashed.
The stronger your backing… the faster the story unfolds.