Chapter Thirty-One: King's Cross Station

"Travis?" The Muggles exchanged bewildered glances, having never heard of this surname in England.

"Go back and ask around; it would be best to approach the department that handles mysterious incidents." Roger leaned back slightly, not expecting them to understand that this name represented wizards. "Are you all still waiting for me to treat you to coffee?" Under Roger's sharp reprimand, the group, which had arrived in such a clamor, departed in a state of profound dejection.

The employees of the financial building could only watch the tightly shut wooden door from afar, speculating about what had transpired inside.

"Mr. Roger, I... I am so sorry. I will handle it properly, and the money will certainly be quietly transferred to your account..."

"Forget it. Since the secret is out, there is no need to hide anymore." Roger shook his head. "What were the gains from this venture?"

"After deducting the high interest, there is 10.5 billion left," Andrew reported hurriedly, his tone tinged with self-satisfaction.

"That much!" Thompson regretted his hesitation deeply; had he known, he would have emptied the Ministry of Magic and gotten involved himself.

"Cousin, you also have a share of 1 billion."

"Ah... haha, I had forgotten."

"Wrap up the loose ends, and you take your cut as agreed."

"No problem." Andrew quickly assured him. Not all wizards solved problems the way Roger did, using Muggle methods. Take his cousin Thompson, for instance—his first instinct when faced with Muggle pressure was to raise his wand.

"Thompson, handle the Galleons from the Ministry of Magic carefully; don't leave any trail. And about the exchange of Muggle currency for Galleons..."

"The volume of funds is quite large, but I will find a way."

"Hmm, you need to step up. If possible, secure the position of Head of the Treasury as soon as you can."

"Head of Department?"

"Do you intend to be a minor clerk forever? With your current position and influence, do you really think you can convert all that Muggle currency?"

"I... I understand. But Roger, the wizarding world simply cannot absorb such a massive amount of capital."

"Broaden your horizons. This world is not limited to England, and Gringotts is not the only bank in Diagon Alley. Seize the right opportunities and try to exchange it all at once to avoid alerting the goblins."

"I understand. If it can't all be exchanged..." Thompson rubbed his nose. His share was significant, but compared to Roger's, it was merely a drop in the ocean.

"Hmm... Andrew, use the surplus money to establish an investment company."

"I am going to Hogwarts next month. If anything comes up, you can go to Jessica." Roger waved his wand, casting a Scouring Charm on Andrew. "The Soviet Union is about to fall, and the Iron Curtain will vanish..."

"I know, the Bamboo Curtain will collapse..."

"Are you an idiot?" Roger rebuked him. "Is there any market bigger than that right now?"

"Be thankful that the python didn't die after swallowing the elephant; all that remains is to hide away and slowly digest it. If anyone approaches you for investment, reject them all unless you have my orders."

"I understand. I will handle everything properly for you and await your instructions." Andrew wiped the sweat from his brow. If he couldn't even manage these operations, what use was he?

He followed closely behind Roger, while others watched the young boy walking in their midst in shock. Andrew's team had arrived in full force, a group of financial elites from prestigious universities accompanying him to see Roger off. The brutal City of London cared nothing for morality or age; money was the only truth.

The guard watched as the group crowded around the young boy and filed out, unable to stop himself from rubbing his eyes. Had he just missed a golden opportunity?

"This bottle of 1926 Macallan is a gift for you. Take it and celebrate well with your team." Roger handed the whiskey to Andrew and left the financial district with Thompson.

A wizard's daily life was as mundane as anyone else's, and Roger found it incredibly tedious. Eat and sleep, sleep and eat; he felt increasingly like a lazy dragon. Jessica measured her son's height, delighted that he had grown a bit more.

On September 1st, Roger was still fast asleep when Dobby shouted, "Young master, it's time to wake up! If we don't hurry, we'll miss the train to Hogwarts!"

"Ah... what time is it..." Roger glanced at his watch. There were still four hours until the 11 o'clock departure.

"Go and pack your things. I've already had Dobby pack your breakfast; you can eat it on the train," Jessica urged. "King's Cross Station, Platform 9 and 3/4. Are you ready to go?"

"Ready!" Roger jumped up and high-fived Jessica.

Thanks to the Undetectable Extension Charm bag gifted by Alvin (Alvin: I didn't, I wasn't, don't talk nonsense!), Roger's luggage was exceptionally compact.

There was a vintage-style backpack containing textbooks and tools, an old-fashioned leather handbag for his newly purchased snowy owl, Selah, and a trunk for his school robes. Jessica had thoughtfully prepared several formal outfits for her son.

"Let's go!"

"Off we go!" Roger took Jessica's hand and got into the car, heading toward the station.

King's Cross Station was a classic piece of architecture from the last century. Carrying his luggage, Roger couldn't help but grumble inwardly: "Just as overly classic as this Maybach, full of the heavy weight of history."

"Remember our platform?" Jessica reminded her son once more to ensure he didn't forget.

"9 and 3/4, I remember." Roger pointed to the wall between platforms 9 and 10, where young wizards were occasionally pushing their luggage into the wall and disappearing.

"Mom, I'm sure the Ministry of Magic employees here have it very tough," Roger said sympathetically. "There must be many ordinary people who see this and then have to be hit with Memory Charms."

"Their pay is relatively higher, so it's a fair trade." Jessica held her son's hand, and they stepped onto the platform one after the other.

A steam train with a deep red engine sat at the platform, adorned with a golden plaque: Hogwarts Express, 5972.

"Sigh..."

"What's wrong? Why the sudden sigh?" Jessica looked at Roger, puzzled. The other new students were quite excited to see the express train.

"Mom, don't you think it's too old? I feel like instead of being here, it should be donated to a museum. It's quite magical that a nearly two-hundred-year-old train still runs."

Jessica listened and smiled gently. "This train's appearance may be outdated, but it carries the beautiful imagination of every child who steps into this world. Its historical value far exceeds the machine itself; it serves as a bond, connecting every generation of Hogwarts students. That is why we maintain it with such care."

"Furthermore, this train is enchanted; it is far beyond what any technological creation could achieve." Jessica patiently explained to her son as she saw him onto the express train.

Roger turned back and hugged Jessica, holding on for a long time before letting go. Since his transmigration, the mother and son had never been apart for long. Thinking of the months they would be separated, their expressions grew somber.

"Alright, other students are watching, don't be embarrassed." Jessica crouched down to look at him and kissed his cheek. "Go on now. Remember to take plenty of photos at school and have Selah send them back."

"I know, Mom, I'll miss you." Roger nodded reluctantly.

"I'll miss you too. Alright, son, get ready to embrace your Hogwarts life." Jessica fought back her tears, smiling as she sent her son onto the train.

She watched Roger walk into the carriage and stow his things away. They waved at each other through the window. Jessica turned and walked away quickly, inadvertently wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

"Careful, child!" Jessica exclaimed.

"Sorry, ma'am..." Harry stopped, feeling a bit embarrassed, and adjusted his glasses.