Platform 9 3/4

Time passed, September 1st arrived, and with it the start of a new school year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry had been waiting for a few hours with a sorrowful look on the Hogwarts Express platform, watching the families coming to drop off their children. What made him look gloomy was not the boredom that this activity should have caused in a 12-year-old child, especially an athletic one. The diversity and extravagance of the families present were quite entertaining. No, what saddened him was that although he refused to admit it, he missed his family.

Like many children present on the platform, it was his first departure for Hogwarts. A new school in an unknown world. A world his adoptive mother had always described as frightening and disgusting. A world that, on the rare occasions he had to interact with it, had only confirmed thewarnings from his aunt. Harry had no trouble admitting that it frightened him, but in the end, not much more than his return to Smelting last year.

On the other hand, he violently rejected the jealousy and the urge to run to 4 Privet Drive that overwhelmed him every time he saw a worried mother hugging her child. In two months, he had had time to grieve and accept the death of Dudley (his adoptive brother). But he still hadn't found the courage to face his adoptive parents.

Despite the numerous warnings, reprimands, and punishments he had received (which at the time he found unfair and exaggerated), he had exposed Dudley to the danger of the wizarding world. Despite the advice of Hagrid, Dumbledore, and even Lupin, he had thrown a tantrum to refuse to go to the only school in the country for anomalies like him. The first time he heard his parents refer to wizards that way, it hurt him internally. Of course, they never treated him like that and always assured him that they loved him anyway. That it didn't change anything and that he had nothing to do with the others (as they liked to refer to wizards). Their reassuring words made him feel better at the time, but over time, doubt grew within him.

Just like Dudley, he had never adhered to the disgust that novelty inspired in his aunt and uncle. But to please them, he had tried, unsuccessfully, to reject his nature.

However, since his encounter with Voldemort last June, he understood their point of view and was determined not to impose his presence on them anymore. They had already suffered enough because of him. And then he was terrified at the thought of having to face them and read disgust and rejection in their eyes. Fortunately, in exchange for his promise to return to Hogwarts next year, the headmaster had arranged for him to spend the two months separating him from the start of the school year away from the Dursleys (while specifying that next year, he would have to return to his aunt and uncle). Harry had been surprised that the headmaster agreed to this, but he hadn't questioned it any further. After all, maybe, as his appearance suggested, he was really a doting grandfather.

Seeing that the departure time was soon approaching, he pulled his cloak over his face to avoid the risk of being recognized, grabbed his heavy trunk, and headed towards the train entrance.

HARRRRYYYY

Before he could understand what was happening, someone grabbed him from behind and turned him around. He then faced Petunia Dursley's tear-streaked face as she hugged him with all her strength.

After a moment, she let go of him and then slapped him violently.

What were you thinking? Disappearing like that, without giving any news. We were worried sick. Are you okay?

Then she renewed her attempt to smother him.

Meanwhile, Verront arrived breathless behind him. He had spent the morning running towards that cursed station since Petunia had convinced herself, upon reading the headlines about the start of the school year, that Harry would probably be at King's Cross today.

Harry noticed that he had changed a lot in two months. He seemed to have lost 10 kilos and dark circles surrounded his eyes. He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and refrained from imitating his wife. For him, a man should not give in to such impulses, especially in public. Harry, on the other hand, despite his efforts, could not hold back from crying a little.

You are not angry about what happened to Dudley?

Of course not. Immediately declared Vernon.

His aunt let go of him and looked him straight in the eyes before continuing:

Harry, listen to me carefully: it's not your fault. If anyone is to blame, it's me. If I had trusted you, we would have understood that something was wrong when Dudley brought a magical object home. And if I had been less unfair, I would have warned Dudley.

But it's because of me that Voldemort went after us.

Oh really? Did you do something to provoke him? she asked, noting the irony that she was the one asking him this kind of question. But it was probably because of her that he thought that.

Harry was about to reply, but she interrupted him immediately:

And I don't want to hear any more about it. Get that out of your head, that's an order. Anyway, your train is about to leave. She said, giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Without another word, he boarded the nearest carriage as a siren sounded in the distance to urge the last stragglers to board the train. The locomotive started a few seconds later. He then waved his hand towards his adoptive parents, his heart filled with immense relief.