Chapter 29: Chapter 29: The Hogwarts Express
Clark's Preparation & Journey to the Station
The morning sun streamed through the window, casting golden rays over Clark's small room. He had barely slept, anticipation buzzing through him like an electric current. Today marked the beginning of his Hogwarts journey.
With practiced efficiency, he checked his trunk—robes neatly folded, wand secured, books stacked in perfect order. His ring's pocket universe held even most significantly, Aunt Petunia, whom he had no intention of leaving behind. She remained in a sleep, out of sight and out of mind for now.
After a quick breakfast, Clark left Privet Drive, making his way through the crowded streets of London toward King's Cross Station. The place bustled with muggles, unaware of the hidden magical world intertwined with their own. The air smelled of fresh coffee and newspaper ink, and the sound of hurried footsteps filled the platform.
He could have found Platform 9¾ effortlessly, but that would be a wasted opportunity. Instead, he pretended to be lost, his eyes scanning the crowd.
It didn't take long for his gaze to settle on a plump red-haired woman surrounded by a group of children—Molly Weasley.
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Interaction with Molly Weasley
Clark approached her with a polite smile, his expression carefully crafted to appear both eager and uncertain.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he said, adopting an innocent yet charming tone. "I'm looking for Platform 9¾, but I'm not sure how to find it."
Molly turned to him, her soft brown eyes warm with motherly concern. "Oh, of course, dear! First time at Hogwarts?"
Clark nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
She beamed at him, the corners of her full lips curving into a genuine smile. "Not to worry, dear. We're just about to cross. Come along, I'll show you."
Clark followed her, pretending to be clueless while subtly observing her figure. Despite having borne seven children, Molly had an undeniably matronly charm—her curves softened with age, but still lush and well-proportioned. Her ample bosom strained slightly against her well-worn robes, and the warmth in her voice only enhanced her appeal.
As they approached the barrier, a small girl—Ginny Weasley—peeked at him curiously from behind her mother.
Ginny was petite, with vivid red hair cascading past her shoulders and wide brown eyes that shone with youthful curiosity. She was young—but Clark smirked inwardly when she blushed and quickly looked away the moment he smiled at her.
Molly guided him through the barrier, and the sight of the Hogwarts Express greeted them—a magnificent scarlet train billowing steam, its golden lettering glinting under the station's lamps. The air smelled of hot metal and parchment, mixed with the sugary scent of sweets being sold nearby.
"There you are, dear. Have a wonderful term," Molly said warmly, her voice tinged with the fondness only a mother could possess.
Clark gave her a respectful nod. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. You're very kind."
She smiled at him, turning back to tend to her children, unaware of the mental note Clark had just made to add her to his future harem.
This was only the beginning.
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On the Train: First Meeting with Hermione
Once aboard the Hogwarts Express, Clark walked through the narrow corridor, peeking into compartments filled with chattering students, trunks, and fluttering owls. The scent of leather seats, old parchment, and pumpkin pasties filled the train.
Finding an empty compartment, he settled in, placing Hedwig's cage beside him. The owl blinked at him, ruffling her feathers before tucking her head under her wing.
He leaned back, stretching his arms lazily, already contemplating the year ahead.
Then, the compartment door slid open, and a bushy-haired girl stood there, clutching a heavy book to her chest.
"Excuse me," she said briskly, her voice laced with authority despite her small frame. "Everywhere else is full. May I sit here?"
Clark lifted his gaze to her, taking in her appearance. Hermione Granger.
Her thick, untamed curls framed her slightly tanned face, her chocolate-brown eyes glinting with sharp intelligence. Her robes were slightly oversized, her bookbag heavy, and her stance confident but guarded.
Clark gave her an easygoing smile. "Of course. I'm Harry."
She hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping inside, her movements precise and calculated, as if always measuring her surroundings.
"Hermione Granger," she introduced herself, sliding onto the seat across from him.
A brief silence followed as she carefully placed her book on her lap, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle on her robe. Then, without another word, she opened her book and began reading, her eyes scanning the text with fervent concentration.
Clark watched her discreetly, amused by her relentless thirst for knowledge. A Bookworm.
Minutes passed, the only sound in the compartment being the rhythmic turning of pages.
To be Continued....