Meeting the Boy-Who-Lived

"Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine - platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number 10 over the one next it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

"Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Harry turned and saw the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing. Harry's mouth went rather dry. What on earth was he going to do? He was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Hedwig. He'd have to ask someone.

"I wouldn't ask the guard if I were you." A voice sounded from south-east of him. He turned and saw him.

A gray and frayed gatsby atop a tuft of dark colored hair, a black oversized coat and a pair of old brown hiking boots. He was sitting on what seems to be his suitcase. "The man who was talking to you mentioned about something in between platform nine and ten right, meaning you're going to Hogwarts, and that you're just as lost as I am."

Harry approached the stranger.

"I'm Potter, Harry Potter, and yes, I'm probably as lost as you are" Harry stretched out his hand, for a handshake.

The stranger stood up and accepted his hand. "Callie Pryde, nice to meet you." He offered Harry a smile, which he noted was pretty. "Now what do you say we try to find this platform nine and three quarters?"

At that moment a group of people just passed behind them and they caught a few words of what they were saying.

"---- packed with muggles, of course ----"

"Well, Harry. That group seems like the sort we should be looking for. Let's go." The stranger, Callie, placed his trunk on Harry's trolley and helped him push it towards that large group of red heads.

TBC