"Fascinated, are you? Did you come alone? Where are your parents?"
Noticing Harry's gaze, the witch raised an eyebrow. "I'm a Metamorphmagus; I can change my appearance at will. You—wait—are you Harry Potter?"
The witch suddenly leaned closer, her eyes catching the lightning-shaped scar peeking out from beneath Harry's messy hair.
"Wait? Did I hear that wrong?"
"Or perhaps I heard it wrong?"
"That name?"
"That boy?"
"So familiar?"
"So well-known?"
"—Harry Potter?"
The final name was exclaimed simultaneously by two voices, while the earlier lines alternated like a theatrical performance.
Harry then saw two red-haired boys pop out from either side of him.
"Oh, Fred, George, it’s you." The witch sighed heavily, as though she'd stumbled upon a major headache.
"Hey! Tonks, you can't say that," protested one red-haired boy, while his twin added,
"Yeah, as an upperclassman graduating this year, why not show a little more love for your juniors?"
"Exactly, exactly. By the way, will you be attending the feast?" Fred asked curiously.
"Of course," Tonks tossed her red hair dramatically. "This is my last start-of-term feast at Hogwarts. Even Moody wouldn’t be cruel enough to make me miss this special occasion."
"Oh, an Auror," George said, awestruck. "A celebrity from Hufflepuff, with the advantage of being a Metamorphmagus. I’ve heard other seventh years are stressing about finding jobs."
"I’m not an Auror yet," Tonks sighed. "I’ve just been assigned to the Auror Office as part of my course training. Only with outstanding performance will I qualify for training. But I’m always clumsy—ugh, never mind. You lot should hurry inside."
"And don’t forget to bring in our bull boy!"
Tonks practically spat out the words, her eyes glued to Harry’s horns rather than his scar after the initial glance.
As if they were old friends, the red-haired twins cheerfully draped their arms around Harry’s shoulders, ushering him toward the wall between Platforms Nine and Ten.
"...I didn’t let you down with a terrified expression, did I?" Harry raised an eyebrow at the twins after they’d passed through the barrier and noted their expectant expressions.
Such childish intentions were all too obvious.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
"Of course not," one of the red-haired boys said, introducing himself. "I’m Fred. That’s George. We’re the Weasley twins—pleased to meet you."
"Harry Potter, a Tauren," Harry replied, extending his hand. "You’ve probably recognized my name before I even had the chance."
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" The twins burst out laughing. "Harry, you’re hilarious! I have a feeling—"
"—This year, our prank business is going to enter a new era and reach unprecedented heights."
Harry found the twins amusing, too. They had a peculiar habit of finishing each other's sentences with uncanny accuracy, as if their minds were perfectly in sync.
Perhaps they really were.
"Fred, look at this creativity!" George’s eyes practically sparkled as he exclaimed, "Such an original idea—"
"A Tauren!" Fred clenched his fists in excitement. "A magical creature unheard of in the wizarding world! What an astounding concept!"
It seemed the twins had taken Harry’s self-description as a child’s imaginative whimsy. Harry, however, had no interest in clarifying.
"Even more impressive, you’ve brought it to life on your own head! Such courage and genius! You’ll definitely be a Gryffindor, Harry!"
"Exactly!" George leaned in to study Harry’s horns up close. "Transfiguration on the human body? No, wait—this looks more like you transformed objects and attached them to yourself? Either way, your Transfiguration skills alone could earn you thirty points from Professor McGonagall—and you haven’t even started school yet!"
"Why thirty points? I’d say fifty—once school starts, of course," Fred nodded enthusiastically. "Though there’s also a chance you’ll lose fifty points for dangerous self-Transfiguration—"
"Gryffindor, minus fifty points!" George suddenly mimicked an elderly voice, adopting a stern expression.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The twins dissolved into laughter, which, in turn, made Harry chuckle. Though he hadn’t yet met Professor McGonagall, he could tell the twins were parodying someone familiar.
"Come on, Harry, let us help you with your luggage," Fred said, patting Harry’s shoulder. "Even for a Tauren, this stuff’s heavy."
"Hey, Fred, watch your words," George said in mock seriousness. "Never underestimate the strength of a Tauren!"
"True, don’t underestimate a Tauren’s strength," Harry agreed. To their astonishment, he lifted his trunk with ease and climbed aboard the train.
Never underestimate the wisdom of a shaman!
After months of herbal baths, ample nutrition, and regular exercise, Harry’s body had transformed like an inflating balloon—not into a puff pastry, but into someone visibly stronger and more solid. His shoulders were broader, and he carried a noticeable layer of muscle.
"Well, alright," Fred shrugged as he followed Harry onto the train. "From here, Harry, all you need to do is find a compartment you like and enjoy the ride to Hogwarts."
"Exactly. If it were next year, we might invite you to our compartment to spend the journey together. But not this year," George said, wagging a finger.
"Not this year," Fred echoed. "We can’t disrupt the magical experience of a first-year’s train ride, complete with scenic views and the chance to meet new friends."
"Indeed, those friendships will be your greatest treasures for the next seven years."
The twins made a graceful exit after helping Harry find an empty compartment. They didn’t fawn over his fame or treat him any differently—just a promising junior, a fellow kindred spirit.
Harry appreciated that. Their straightforward personalities made them easy to get along with. Though they appeared to thrive on mischief, they had a genuine maturity beneath the surface.
...Not that Harry particularly needed friends his age or companions to get along with.
The Bull only needed to stay true to himself.
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