Hogwarts: My Yorozuya has no taboos!

Chapter 9 Quirrell Appears

It seems to be designed to facilitate young wizards who gather at King's Cross Station from all over the country and embark on their magical apprenticeships on the Hogwarts Express.

After two days of continuous rain, London suddenly cleared up, and the bright sunshine shone on the earth, driving the gloom that had previously enveloped the city back into the sewers.

So, after some twists and turns and some anxiety, Harry finally arrived at his destination and saw a dark red steam locomotive parked next to a platform crowded with passengers.

Thick smoke from the steam locomotive swirled above the chattering crowd, while cats of various colors darted about at their feet. Amid the buzzing of conversation and the clatter of dragging heavy luggage, owls hooted shrilly, their calls echoing each other.

This is Platform 9¾, and the train Hagrid mentioned that would take him to the wondrous magical world!

Harry was breathing heavily, straining his bright green eyes to look at the scene before him.

Everything ordinary or unusual seemed magical at that moment, even the air was filled with a feeling that made him tremble—Harry believed this was not an illusion, but rather, he knew clearly that everyone here was "one of his kind," and from this moment on, he no longer had to worry about making any inexplicable noises and being seen as an oddity by those around him.

Although he was happy to spend more time immersing himself in this wonderful feeling, the clock hanging overhead told him that he had to get on the train as soon as possible.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some leaning out of the windows to talk to their families, others playing around in their seats. Harry had no choice but to drag his suitcase, which was almost as big as him, all the way to the back.

With the help of a pair of red-haired twins, Harry successfully got the box onto the train.

The private rooms near the train doors were also full of students, while there were a few empty seats in the private rooms further back.

Harry was eager to learn more about the magical world from the children of these wizarding families, but looking at the youthful faces in the box, just like his, a subtle sense of inferiority crept into his heart. Even though the twins' reaction when they saw the scar on his forehead while helping him with his suitcase proved once again that Hagrid was right—he was indeed very famous here!

"I need to take it slow and get used to it."

Harry said to himself, his cheeks flushing slightly.

So he continued dragging the box and birdcage toward the back of the carriage.

It's like searching for the fullest ear of rice in a paddy field.

Harry carefully selected his travel companions, and then, without realizing it, he arrived at the last compartment of the train.

This was the least occupied of all the private rooms he had passed, with only one passenger—and it was very easy to understand why.

There was an adult sitting in the private room... although he was young, he was definitely an adult.

That's strange—he thought the whole train was carrying students from a magic school!

A flicker of curiosity made Harry take a few more glances at the people in the box:

He was a young man wearing a black wizard's robe, with a head of smooth, medium-length black hair that he envied; he was rather thin, but his handsome face and the heroic spirit between his brows were something he had never seen before in his previous world and in the magical world he had only recently entered!

At this moment, the young man leaned his shoulder against the carriage wall, his right hand resting on the table gently swirling a glass of bright red beverage, his deep gaze sweeping over the diverse crowd outside the window.

Furthermore, the young man appeared calm, but Harry, who had grown up relying on the Dursleys' whims, sensed a chilling aura from the man's indifferent face—a quality that intimidated him, and he had no intention of entering the box... Unfortunately, it was too late; the young man's gaze had already swept over him.

hiss-

A sudden, intense heat tingled on the scar... well, it wasn't exactly a stinging pain, but it felt like being exposed to a strong ultraviolet light, a slightly burning sensation... uncomfortable.

Harry took a deep breath and, steeling himself, opened the box door.

"Excuse me, sir—"

Harry said, pursing his lips and giving what he thought was a polite but actually shy smile.

"Could I sit in this box—well, the other boxes are mostly full."

The young man didn't answer immediately, but just quietly looked at the location of the scar on his forehead... Based on his experience at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry had already mentally prepared how he should react when the young man exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, no—"

But the result surprised Harry. The man's reaction was indifferent, only a hint of interest playing at the corners of his lips. Moreover, he gave a clear refusal.

"I'll be entertaining guests here later—and it might cause a bit of a commotion, so I suggest you change to a private room... preferably somewhere further away."

"Yes, sir."

Harry nodded, almost eagerly.

He hurriedly ran halfway down the carriage, dragging his suitcase, until he bumped into a red-haired boy and stopped—Harry remembered this boy; his mother called him Ron.

"The back is full."

Facing the somewhat puzzled gaze of the boy named Ron, Harry gasped for breath. Only then did he realize that during the half-minute conversation with the young man, he had even broken out in a cold sweat on his back and forehead!

"All right."

Ron didn't suspect anything. He muttered something under his breath and glanced into the private room beside him.

There were two people sitting inside, both about the same age as them. One was a girl with fluffy brown hair, and the other was a chubby little boy.

It was unclear what had happened, but the round-faced little boy had his head down and his shoulders were twitching; he looked extremely depressed.

"This is fine, there's not much else to choose from."

Ron gave Harry a thumbs-up and poked the glass window of the box.

This place is far enough from there.

Harry glanced at the rear of the car and let out a soft sigh.

"Okay, I'll do as you say."

Harry said he went into the box with Ron.

Buzz—

The train started with a slight jolt, and the reluctant faces of parents seeing their children off at the edge of the old platform drifted away one by one, while Ares also turned his gaze away.

He took a sip of the potion from his cup, his expression returning to calm, but deep down, a ripple of emotion was stirring within him.

Perhaps it was the unexpected encounter with the "savior" that triggered a hidden yet real unease in his heart... just as a creature with keen senses might have a premonition of an impending disaster.

Of course, it could also be just a simple感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a feeling of deep emotion or reflection) – twenty years of life have passed in the blink of an eye, and he has finally witnessed the start of the story.

The train sped away from the city, racing across fields teeming with grazing cattle and sheep. After some time, the fields grew even more desolate, and a series of rugged mountain peaks came into view before the train entered a tunnel.

Ares was not in a hurry; he was pondering the source of his unease (the mere Quirrell and the mysterious man without any magic were clearly not enough to give him this feeling).

As the train emerged from the tunnel and the world returned to light, a cold, harsh voice suddenly reached Ares's ears.

"I am coming."

The newcomer opened the door and entered the private room, looking down at Ares from his elevated position.

Where is the person I asked for?