, Platform 9¾

In a secluded corner, unnoticed by anyone, the wizard and goblin who attacked Soman and his mother were taken away by the Aurors. Two of them were particularly behaving poorly, speaking German in a dazed and disoriented manner, as if they had been terrified by Dumbledore.

“Your husband has offended many people, but if these people are not your husband’s enemies, then this matter is even more troublesome.” — If the attackers were not acting because of Soman, but because they knew about Elena’s connection with Dumbledore and were preparing to use it as a provocation… then it would be more difficult to handle than a typical infighting among dark wizards.

Dumbledore was well aware of this, but as he always did, the old wizard swallowed his guess.

As everyone knows, Dumbledore always likes to "act profound," but he always has his own reasons.

In the old wizard's eyes, Elena was always a sad and fragile witch. Many responsibilities that were not hers weighed on her shoulders, almost crushing her... Therefore, Dumbledore did not want to add fuel to the fire, and he did have pity on this younger generation.

Unfortunately, Elena couldn't make decisions for her husband in the past; now, she can't make decisions for her son either.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” Edmund Soman said in a mushy voice. “If they’re defeated by Father, it just proves they’re utterly worthless, the worst of the worst.”

Elena was in a state of great confusion, so it took her five seconds to understand what her son meant. Before she could turn red with anger again, Edmund smugly concluded:

"If it were more troublesome than that, and that rude thief struck again—oh dear, that would be a good thing! That way you wouldn't have to worry about me anymore."

The brat's eyes darted around, and he looked at Dumbledore again.

"The greatest white wizard of this century will surely find a way to help us sort this out. I'll be perfectly safe, and probably even freer and happier than when I'm at home. It's a win-win situation, and I've won twice, Mom!"

Elena was utterly numb with embarrassment by the end. She closed her eyes and remained serene for a few seconds. In doing so, she missed Dumbledore's probing glance at Edmund, who simply smiled in response.

"I will do everything I can," Dumbledore promised softly. "I will look after him, Elena."

The greatest white wizard of this century did not emphasize: "Believe me," nor did the two establish an unbreakable curse. But Albus Dumbledore's words themselves possessed a certain unshakeable power.

This alerted Edmund; he suppressed his frivolous smile and gave the old man a strange look.

"..."

Mrs. Soman must have wanted to say something. It was probably a "thank you." She was by no means an ungrateful person, but she was just too hesitant and always missed her chance.

"Then thank you in advance for your 'care,' Mr. Dumbledore." Edmund abandoned his childishness and put on a polite, insincere smile. "But I guess we must go—oh, right."

Soman stepped forward and gracefully took out a money pouch.

"This is 400 Galleons."

Edward blinked and, without a word, shoved the money pouch into Dumbledore's hand.

"Could you please keep this for me for a while? — This isn't a bribe, please! Just think of it as me needing some savings—"

………………

Two weeks later, a gloomy Mrs. Soman, with Edmund's shoulder in hand, slowly made her way to platform 9 at King's Cross Station.

Edmund obediently nestled in his mother's half-circle. He understood Elena's dilemma, but was too weary to sympathize with his mother's sorrow.

Considering that Mrs. Soman spends roughly 300 days a year in distress, Edmund simply couldn't sympathize with her.

He was, well, the body he possessed belonged to a lively, mischievous teenager who needed to have fun. To be honest, he was quite excited about his upcoming trip to a magical castle filled with people his own age.

"...Remember to write to me."

Looking at the 9¾ platform so close to her, Elena held back for a long time before finally managing to utter this one sentence in a barely audible voice.

"Okay, okay, Mom, don't be so discouraged. As long as the school allows it, I don't mind if you send me a letter every day."

Edmund reassured them in a loud voice, which seemed to elicit a few snickers. Edmund wasn't embarrassed; he thought with a hint of malice: Perhaps they really don't have a mother.

"If you're still not comfortable with that, I can ask the principal for special permission."

Elena covered Edmund's mouth again, giving a helpless, bitter smile.

"Don't mention him, shh—don't make fun of him, Edmund, you wretched little debt collector."

The mother shook her head slightly, resisting the urge to check her son's suitcase again. Mrs. Soman patted Edmund on the shoulder and said in a very soft voice, "Go ahead."

Edmund immediately smiled. He tiptoed and kissed his mother's cheek, then heard another word of advice.

"Don't hurt them."

But don't let them hurt you. You understand what I mean, right?

There was only one answer, of course. Edmund understood perfectly, and was therefore content.

Clearly, Elena loved her son more than those little wizards whose fathers were unknown.

Even though the child had died once; even though Edmund was now more like a moving, talking tomb... this frail witch still hoped that Edmund would not be harmed.

To be honest, this made Edmund feel incredibly good. How long had it been since he had been loved so selflessly? It was so strange that, simply because of blood ties—simply because of that—this human could love him with his soul, with his life! A mother loves her son more than herself; she would do anything for him—and he didn't even have to give anything in return!

Therefore, although Edmund's identity was insignificant compared to what he had in the past, he was still somewhat special because of his mother.

That said, Edmund found Elena's unfounded worries utterly baffling. He never thought of himself as difficult to get along with; he was an easygoing and kind man, and even if he was wrong, it was those who had offended him who were too ignorant.

Good-natured Edmond Soman hummed a cheerful tune as he boarded the train, carrying his expensive suitcase. A boy, now in his school uniform and with a scar on his face, paused, noticing Edmond's extravagant attire, and immediately stepped aside to make way for him.

Edmund thanked the other person in a good mood, glanced back at his mother one last time, waved, and then got into the carriage.

Coincidentally, he had intended to find a spacious private room to change out of his casual clothes, but was drawn by a sob. He opened the door to a private room that was already quite full, and then his eyes met those of Lily Evans, whose green eyes were filled with tears.

"Oh, it's great to see you again!"

Edmund was in a good mood; seeing the thoughtful little witch again seemed like a good omen. He had always admired independent thinkers, or more precisely, those souls that were not easily seduced and were readily manipulated. And he had once smelled that pure, benevolent scent emanating from Lily Evans.

Therefore, Edmund's tone was exceptionally warm, and even his smile was genuine.

"Hello, Miss Evans. May I sit next to you?"