Chapter 7

I walked into King's Cross station, my occlumency working overtime to project a calm facade over the bubbling euphoria which made me want to break out in giggles. With my hand in the pockets of my suit, I walked over calmly to the iconic wall, beyond which lied a world I had always wanted to be in. Before passing over the wall between Platforms 9 and 10, I swept an appraising eye over the surroundings and to my utter surprise, I spotted the back of a kid with black hair, and muggle clothes which seemed too big for his thin, small frame, talking to a station official and asking about Platform 9 3/4 quarters.

My assumption turned out to be true because he *was* the Boy-Who-Lived! With those bright green eyes peeking out from those round glasses and that defining scar, partially hid by that untidy black hair, who else could it be but Harry Potter? I reigned in my excitement and stepped up to help him.

"Are you looking for Platform 9 3/4 quarters?," I asked him gently, already knowing the answer. He had turned around even before I had opened my mouth and was now already in a semi-defensive posture, perhaps as a result of constant bullying. His senses certainly were fantastic, but I suppose the way he acquired those is not something that people would like to undergo. After a few moments of consideration, he nodded, a timid, weak sort of nod which left me wondering how cruel the Dursleys had actually been on this boy destined to defeat the Dark Lord?

"Come on, then," I beckoned him and turned to walk, straight towards the wall. He followed after a couple of moments, dragging his huge trunk behind him. I slowed enough for him to catch up and then with a hand on his back, ran straight towards the wall. Harry's scream would have rendered every muggle-repellent charm null if it were not for my Silencio Charm. His tense state relaxed considerably after he had opened his eyes though, and was now admiring Platform 9 3/4 quarters.

"Matthew Arrington," I introduced myself, holding out a hand in front of me. He shook it, timidly, and spoke quietly, "Harry Potter," in reciprocation. "So, first year?," I asked, trying to make conversation, which sadly, is not one of my greatest strengths. After his nod, I told him I too was one, which surprised him considerably. I wasn't bothered though, I certainly didn't look or act like a first year, my constant training and mana channeling had added a few inches to my height and the fact that I knew a tiny, tiny bit of the Wizarding World was also helpful.

Anyways, after a couple of minutes of chatting, he had opened up somewhat, perhaps as he had learned I had grown up in an orphanage, which did earn me a little sympathy, as intended. I thought of borrowing a few things from Charles Dickens' masterpiece Oliver Twist to make myself look pitiful, but in the end I discarded the idea. To keep my illusion of this lie, I would have to create a whole web of lies, and that is just way too much trouble for something that is pointless. I did think of telling him I had made a lot of money and thus could offer him to live with me, for a fee of course, and that would have been hard with acting like a tortured orphan, but for now I kept that idea in the back of my head.

At this point we had entered a compartment and I was showing him a few magic spells and devices, which seemed to enthrall him. So far, I had made a few creatures out of magic in the air, mostly dogs, wolves, deers and rats, which made me giggle privately. I had cast a cleaning and repairing spell on his glasses, which again seemed to impress him, and my persona as someone to look up to was slowly being perfected, which satisfied my ego, a lot.

I had also cast a few makeover spells, which I had learned purely because I had free time, which had turned his characteristically untidy black hair into neatly styled, and his clothes shrunk to fit him properly. At this point, the witch with the chocolate trolley made an appearance and he insisted on buying up everything and then sharing it.

As we were feasting on the confectioneries that the Wizarding World had to offer, he asked me,"Matthew, don't take this the wrong way, but how did you learn all these spells if you grew up in an orphanage?," with almost no trace of his earlier timidity. I felt glad, in a way, that he had actually started to suspect me for if the Boy-Who-Lived turned out to be someone who believed everything I said, it would turn into a huge disappointment.

Thinking on the fly, I thought of the great Chinese method of acting cool and shameless and decided on that course of action. Putting on an air of an unfathomable grandmaster, I looked out the window with a faraway look in my eyes. "Harry, do you know what a genius is?," I let the rhetorical question stew in the air for a few moments before opening my mouth again, "I found out I was a genius when I opened the first book I had bought from Diagon Alley, a book containing the most basic of charms, and you know what, Harry?," I paused, shooting a glance at him, and found him looking at me with wide, incredulous eyes and a hint of doubt on his visage, as I continued, "I could do those charms as easily as you and I can count from 1 to 10. This, and the fact that I practiced a lot, made me proficient in the spells you saw me use today. Does that answer satisfy you, Mr.Potter?" I finally finished my far-fetched speech, one which I really enjoyed, and proceeded to stare at him, a little sternly.

Harry already seemed shaken up by my use of his last name and my glare was the last straw, "I-I didn't mean it like-like that, I was just- I was -" He stammered out and I burst out laughing, looking at his anxious face. "You should have seen your face, man. It was hilarious!", I told him, between my laughs. He seemed relieved and also a little angry but when I cast a spell that created an illusion of his face when he started stammering, he joined me in laughing too.

By now, I had no doubt that he considered me a friend and things were looking good so far. "I am a genius, man, that wasn't a joke. And to make up for my little prank I can help you with the magic stuff if you want and that too for free, ok?," I said, and turned to him to see him nodding his head with a bright smile.

By now we had changed into our uniforms, and we were chatting randomly. However, my detection radar, which I had shrunk temporarily, told me a certain bushy-haired, smartest witch of her time was coming to our compartment.

It was time to meet Hermione Granger.