Harry Potter was at his wit's end. His usually harsh Uncle Vernon had, for the first time ever, driven him to King's Cross Station and even helped push his heavy trunk into the station.
Harry had initially been puzzled by Vernon's sudden kindness, but when he saw there was no Platform 9¾ to be found, he immediately understood.
No wonder Vernon had run off so quickly—he had deliberately abandoned him here!
With no other choice, Harry mustered the courage to ask a guard for help.
Although Harry didn't mention Platform 9¾ specifically, he was still scolded for causing trouble, mainly because he couldn't even explain where Hogwarts was located.
When he learned that there wasn't a single train departing at eleven o'clock, he felt utterly helpless.
Fortunately for him, he encountered a kind wizarding family.
With their help, Harry finally managed to reach Platform 9¾.
However, because he arrived so late, the train was nearly full.
Harry could only struggle through the crowd and found an empty compartment near the rear of the train.
He tried to lift his trunk onto the step, but being so thin and weak, and with the trunk being so heavy, he failed twice, the case crashing down on his feet both times.
At this point, he couldn't worry about the pain in his feet.
He took a deep breath and made a third attempt with all his strength.
Unsurprisingly, he failed again.
At the crucial moment, a strong hand steadily caught the trunk, preventing it from crushing Harry's feet a third time.
Harry looked up to see a face that made an immediate and striking impression.
"You need help."
The other person lifted the trunk onto the step with ease and gave Harry a smile.
Harry had grown up in an environment of bullying and oppression—both at home and at school.
At home, he didn't even have his own room. His uncle and aunt had always made him live in a spider-infested storage cupboard under the stairs.
Whenever he caused trouble, he would be punished by being denied meals, and he was constantly bullied by his cousin Dudley.
At school, Harry had no friends either, again because of Dudley.
As the school bully, Dudley was tyrannical to the extreme. He was the only one bold enough to pull pants of someone in public, and was the only one others would help pull up his trousers after they wet themselves.
With everyone knowing that Dudley hated Harry most of all, no one was willing to oppose Dudley's gang.
In such an environment, Harry naturally developed a withdrawn personality.
However, at this very moment, Harry would have bet that the smile on this boy's face was the most pleasant smile he had ever seen in his life.
Whether it was his distinctive gray eyes, his Roman nose, or the way he effortlessly solved the trunk problem—everything made him seem extraordinarily reliable.
The last time Harry had felt this way was on his birthday, when the giant Hagrid had brought him his Hogwarts letter and told him he was a wizard.
"I'm Sherlock Holmes, a first-year student. And you?"
While Harry was still in a daze, Sherlock had already extended his hand.
"H-hello, Holmes. I'm Harry Potter, also a first-year."
Harry was so nervous that he extended both hands when meeting Sherlock.
But he quickly realized how foolish this looked and hastily withdrew one hand.
He simply had so little experience with social interaction that he was terrified the other person might laugh at him.
Sherlock would never do such a thing.
Even for Sherlock, finding Harry Potter—whom he had never seen before—on an entire train full of people wasn't an easy task.
Fortunately, Sherlock had arrived early enough to give himself ample time to rule out those waiting on the platform beforehand.
This way, he only needed to focus his attention on people who had just entered the platform.
Even so, Sherlock was somewhat surprised.
When he spotted Harry, he found that Harry had come alone and didn't look to be in very good condition.
This fact made Sherlock momentarily doubt whether he had found the right person.
Even if Harry had lost his parents, given his status in the wizarding world, it wouldn't be strange for ten or eight people to see him off, would it?
Yet here he was, arriving completely alone.
When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
So, Sherlock understood: this hero who had saved the wizarding world hadn't grown up in the wizards' world, but had remained in the non-magical world.
This made Sherlock even more interested in Harry.
"Just call me Sherlock," Sherlock shook hands with Harry. "It's crowded up front, so let's sit here. Potter—or may I call you Harry?"
"Ah? Yes, of course."
Harry nodded instinctively.
When he came to his senses, he found that Sherlock had already seated him by the window in this compartment.
Then Sherlock brought in all of Harry's luggage and also placed his own pet owl, Hedwig, on the rack.
Being so thoroughly taken care of by Sherlock, whom he had just met, Harry felt no resentment—instead, his heart felt much more at ease.
Taking his first step into the magical world, he was panicking inside and desperately needed such a brotherly figure.
He even had a bold thought deep in his heart: it would be wonderful if he could always stay with Sherlock like this.
Compared to his cousin Dudley, this reliable-looking new classmate was what a real brother should be like.
If Sherlock hadn't said so himself, Harry would have thought he was an upperclassman.
After the two had settled in, Sherlock looked Harry over once more:
"It seems you haven't been living very well."
Just that one sentence filled Harry with an intense desire to confide in someone.
Seeing Sherlock's encouraging eyes looking at him, he poured out all his experiences over the years.
At this moment, Sherlock was a competent listener, nodding continuously and occasionally asking follow-up questions.
After their conversation, Sherlock had gained a more comprehensive understanding of Harry.
He was even more interesting than Sherlock had imagined.
"So, you're saying your uncle brought you to the station today and then left on his own, but fortunately you were lucky enough to get help from others and finally managed to get here?"
"Exactly! I was wondering why he suddenly became so nice—wait, how did you know that?"
Harry was speaking when he suddenly felt something was wrong.
He looked at Sherlock in shock:
"I only said I've been living with relatives all these years, but I never said it was my uncle!
And how did you know I couldn't find the platform and had to get help from others?"
Sherlock was already accustomed to Harry's reaction.
Initially, he had enjoyed this feeling too.
After explaining his reasoning process in detail and seeing others' surprised and admiring looks, a sense of superiority would arise in his heart.
But after experiencing this many times, Sherlock had become so used to such reactions that he found them boring.
Now, he only found this ability commonplace and not worth praising.
Anyone who trained seriously could reach his current level.
But others obviously didn't think so—like Harry right now.
Looking at his expression, Sherlock knew that if he didn't explain these things clearly, their friendly conversation wouldn't be able to continue.