Chapter 008: The Encounter on the Train

On the last day of August, in the garden of Number 3, Privet Drive, a bespectacled young lad was watering the flowers and plants in the garden.

The sound of an approaching car made Harry look up with excitement, but upon seeing that it wasn't Mr. Smith's car, he let out a disappointed sigh.

"Sigh…"

Harry sighed, knowing that school started the next day. If Mr. Smith didn't come back soon, who would he ask for his holiday pay?

Unlike Dudley, who had pocket money from the Dursleys, Harry only made money by doing odd jobs for Mr. Smith, like watering the garden, mowing the lawn, washing the car, and helping Charles with his holiday homework.

Mr. Smith was quite generous. For the two months of summer, if Harry came by every three days to look after the garden and washed the car every five days, he earned 1000 pounds.

Harry felt a bit disappointed this year. Charles had graduated from primary school and no longer had holiday homework. Otherwise, it would have been another nice source of income.

But now that he was going to Hogwarts the next day, Charles would likely be attending a fancy school like Eton, a place Dudley wouldn't even dare think about. This meant Harry couldn't help him with his homework anymore.

Dudley had once tried to earn this money, but after he had turned the garden into a swamp, Mr. Smith kicked him out. Harry still remembered the first time Uncle Vernon had shouted at Dudley that night.

Turning off the tap, Harry tied up the garbage bag filled with freshly clipped branches and placed it in the designated area. He then went inside, grabbed a bottle of Charles's "happy drink" from the fridge, and returned to his room—his room at Number 3, Privet Drive.

After downing the bottle in one go, he lay on the bed and burped, feeling a peaceful calm inside.

By his bedside was a locked iron box where he kept the money he had received from Mr. Smith and Charles.

He had used the money for things like going with Charles to the nearby boxing club to train. What he learned wasn't important—what mattered was simply to avoid staying at Aunt Petunia's house for so long.

Now, he wondered whether he should deposit the money in Gringotts' vault.

His gaze shifted to the bookshelf in the room, stacked with books—mostly novels like Sherlock Holmes stories that had been moved from Charles's shelf when there was no more space.

It wasn't yet noon, and Harry, lost in thought for a while, decided to stay here for the day and only return to the Dursleys in the evening.

After all, there was food in the fridge, and he'd leave a note telling Mr. Smith to deduct his meal money from his pay. But Harry suspected Mr. Smith wouldn't actually deduct anything.

Feeling a bit bored after lying down for a while, Harry decided to head next door to the gym. He put on his gloves and began punching the heavy bag.

At that moment, an image from a month ago replayed itself over and over in his mind—it was a perfect uppercut.

The bag thudded loudly with each punch. Harry wasn't sure how many times he repeated the motion, but it always felt like there was something missing compared to that punch.

Just then, his stomach, much like Hedwig's, growled loudly, reminding him that he needed to head downstairs to the kitchen for something to eat.

As he hung his gloves on the wall, he noticed Charles's gloves hanging nearby, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

He thought to himself, If I told Charles about my recent encounters, he'd probably think I was talking in my sleep.

To Harry's surprise, there were still meatballs with tomato sauce in the fridge. He happily cooked a big pot of noodles and mixed them with the reheated meatballs, enjoying a hearty meal.

He wasn't sure what the meatballs were made of, but they tasted like chicken and were surprisingly crispy. He left two for Hedwig.

After an afternoon of sweaty boxing training in the gym, Harry made himself another dinner, then settled in the living room to watch a hilarious TV show. After ensuring that all the lights and water were turned off, he left a note and returned to the dark, quiet house at Number 4, Privet Drive, filled with hopes for a better life in the future, before drifting off to sleep.

The next day at the train station, Harry felt a bit out of sorts. Luckily, the Weasleys helped him find Platform 9¾.

The platform was bustling, filled with sounds of people bidding farewell, pets calling out, and even Hedwig was squawking as though having a competition with the other owls.

Suddenly, Harry heard a familiar voice: "Don't be a coward once you get to Hogwarts. If anyone picks on you, and you can't handle it, just write to me, and I'll deal with the parents."

He recognized it as Mr. Smith's voice. But when he turned around, a group of tall people walked by, blocking his view. After they moved on, the person on that side was someone he didn't know.

Harry shook his head, thinking he must have been so preoccupied with that 1000 pounds that he'd imagined hearing Mr. Smith's voice.

The train started moving, and Harry had a pleasant time. He met his first wizard friend, Ron Weasley, shared lunch with him, saw chocolate frogs hopping around, and looked at moving photographs. They played a sort of lottery with Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and talked to the boy looking for a toad...

"Knock, knock!"

There was a polite knock on the compartment door, and a voice asked, "Excuse me, is it alright to open the door?"

Harry, who had been waiting for Ron to cast a spell on the nearly-dead rat, instinctively answered, "Not convenient!"

Two blinks later, Harry froze. With the speed of dodging a punch in the boxing ring, he rushed to open the compartment door, and looking at the handsome guy outside, he exclaimed in surprise, "Charles! What are you doing here?!"

"Hey, Harry!" Charles smiled and greeted the two people in the compartment, "Is this Mr. Weasley? I just met a prefect, Percy Weasley. His hair is the same color as yours."

Ron had just heard Harry mention this name, which sounded the same as his second brother's (just with different Chinese translations), and learned that Charles was Harry's only real friend. He greeted him politely.

Charles introduced the two people behind him, Buck-toothed Jen and Freckled Will, then asked, "Did you see Neville's toad?"

Harry replied, "No."

Ron added, "He just came and asked about it."

Neville looked even more miserable.

At that moment, Hermione, seeing Ron holding his wand, was more curious about the magic than about Harry. Excitedly, she asked, "Oh, are you casting a spell? Can I see it?"

She walked into the compartment and sat beside Ron, asking non-stop, "What spell are you going to use? A transformation spell? Or will you make it bigger?"

Harry, just as curious about magic as Hermione, decided not to ask Charles anything for now and focused on watching Ron.

Ron looked a little helpless. After mumbling "Oh" a couple of times, he finally said, "Well, watch closely."

Then, with a smile, Charles watched as Ron cast a spell: "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" But nothing happened. The rat was still its usual gray and speckled self.

"Are you sure that's a spell?" Hermione asked, frowning. "I practiced some spells from my book at home, and they worked fine..."

Charles waited for her to finish blabbering before rubbing his chin and saying, "Maybe this rat got heatstroke. How about we feed it to the owls?"

(End of Chapter)

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