Chapter 1: Hogwarts All-Female School (Invisible) (Patreon)

A September morning.

On Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, a boy who looked about eleven was dragging his luggage, inching along the corridor of the Hogwarts Express.

In a place where white faces were the norm, his round, distinctly Eastern baby face stood out a little.

He wasn't short at 145 centimeters, and with his sturdy build he carried himself with a steadiness his scrawny peers lacked.

His official identity was that of an orphan from Hong Kong, China, named Yuzo.

Of course, that was just the nonsense written on his Hogwarts acceptance letter.

Only he knew that this eleven-year-old body housed the soul of a modern adult. More precisely, it was the wronged ghost of a man who had been flattened by an isekai truck on his way to KFC's "Crazy Thursday," and had thereby qualified for reincarnation in another world.

The self-proclaimed "Goddess of Water," a blue-haired, big-breasted beauty who radiated an air of not being very bright, had shoved this virgin otaku into a so-called "modern urban fantasy anime world with a touch of fairy-tale flavor."

The "random powerful magic weapon" that the blue-haired goddess had thrown in as a parting gift was the wand in his robe pocket: thirteen inches of pine, with a Thestral tail hair for its core.

Beyond that, his real trump card was a passive ability called "Extraordinary Charm."

It needed no flashy light effects and no incantations. Like a male Veela's allure, it simply blended into his every breath, silent and unseen.

Even when he sat quietly in a corner, a few older girls passing by the sliding door of the compartment would, intentionally or not, glance inside, then whisper to each other and walk off giggling.

At the thought, Yuzo couldn't help sighing.

He still wished people would call him "Yuzo," the way Chinese grammar put it. But on British soil, most people said it backward in that peculiar accent of theirs.

At last he pushed open the door of a compartment toward the middle-rear of the train that was, just barely, still empty. He shoved his luggage heavily onto the rack and flopped down onto the red velvet bench.

With one long whistle, the train began to creep forward.

He was staring blankly down at his palms when the compartment door was suddenly shoved open with a heavy thud against the frame.

"…Damn it, why is everything full?!"

Grumbling loudly, a girl barged in, dragging an old leather trunk with frayed, fuzzy edges.

She had a signature head of red hair, tied back carelessly with a worn rubber band into a messy low ponytail, with plenty of stray strands stubbornly sticking out.

A scattering of freckles dotted her nose and cheeks. She wore a Hogwarts robe that was clearly a size too big and faded, with loose threads at the cuffs, and she'd roughly tucked the hem into her belt to move more easily.

She gave the trunk a hard shove forward, and only then noticed someone was already sitting in the compartment.

She froze. When her eyes landed on Yuzo's clothes, not especially fancy but spotless and well fitted, she instinctively drew her hands back and tried to hide the scuffed toes of her shoes beneath the wide, baggy hems.

"Um," she said, biting her lip. Her freckles stood out even more now that she was flustered. "I mean… if nobody else is here, can I sit here? There's not room for a mouse anywhere else."

She lifted her chin, staring straight at Yuzo with a bluntness she was clearly forcing to cover her self-consciousness.

"Sure, I'm the only one here."

Yuzo looked at the red-haired girl in the doorway, gripping the handle of her battered trunk, her embarrassment impossible to hide. He gave a small nod and leaned back, gesturing that the seat opposite was free to use.

He had only just transmigrated, and he was still holding a pine wand that seemed to have a temper of its own. Right now, Yuzo honestly had no idea who this freckled girl in front of him really was.

After all, before his death he had only watched the first movie, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, over and over out of childhood nostalgia.

He had picked up most of the rest of the story by skimming plot-summary videos online.

From his incomplete transmigrator's point of view, this girl was probably just some ordinary student he'd happened to run into on the Hogwarts Express.

Having received his permission, the girl seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

She dragged the heavy trunk into the compartment and struggled with all her might to hoist it onto the luggage rack.

Yuzo sat where he was, watching her go red in the face as if she were wrestling a calf. His social anxiety kicked in, and he agonized over whether to go over and give her a hand.

In the few seconds he spent composing an opening line in his head, the girl planted one foot on the edge of the seat, forced the trunk up with sheer brute strength, and shoved it in. She dusted off her hands, plopped down on the seat across from Yuzo, and tucked her robe hem even deeper into her belt.

Watching such a brash, no-nonsense performance, Yuzo looked away and slumped back into the velvet seat, returning to the inner tug-of-war that had just been interrupted.

He was seriously torn over whether to go out and wander this maze of train cars to look for the legendary protagonist of the original story, Harry Potter, and maybe get his face known in front of the savior of the wizarding world.

But when his gaze fell on the frosted glass door of the compartment, and he listened to the older students racing and roughhousing down the corridor outside, the difficulty of such a noisy social environment for a mild case of social anxiety like his was still a bit much.

He wasn't sure he could even find Harry's compartment. If he blundered around the train like a headless fly and accidentally crashed into a pack of Slytherin young masters stuffed full of pure-blood supremacy, the scene would be so awkward he'd bolt on the spot.

And even if his luck were so amazing that he pulled open exactly the right door, what topic could he possibly use to talk to the other person?

Compared with forcing his way into the main plot, tagging along with the original protagonists to take on the Whomping Willow, fight the Basilisk, and even face the Dark Lord whose name couldn't be spoken, he couldn't help feeling that choosing a different path might be better.

For example, Hufflepuff, the house he'd always had a soft spot for from games and lore, from before he transmigrated.

If he could just land a bed in the badger house, he'd camp out beside the kitchen and coast through the long six or seven years of school, going to class on time with food and drink never a worry, until graduation.

That kind of life was obviously far easier and more comfortable.

In all honesty, Yuzo knew perfectly well that he was not a brave person.

Watching those thrilling adventures in the original movies from behind a thick screen as a spectator certainly sent adrenaline surging and left you yearning for the excitement.

But if he actually had to put his life on the line, to face fire-breathing three-headed dogs or lethal dark magic in person, he had no confidence at all that he could keep his legs from shaking under that kind of pressure and perform normally.

He even had a strong hunch that once the train reached the school, as he sat under the patched Sorting Hat, desperately chanting "Gryffindor" in his head, the moment it settled on his head the hat would sense his slacker's mind, full of thoughts of dodging trouble, and ruthlessly announce some other house in front of everyone.

Just as Yuzo's thoughts began sprinting wildly through his plans for the future in this magical world, and the whole compartment sank into an indescribably awkward silence, the red-haired girl across from him scratched at her messy low ponytail.

Seeing that Yuzo stayed silent, perhaps to break the awkwardness, she cleared her throat and greeted him with a free-and-easy friendliness.

"Hey, you're a first-year too, right?"

She rested her hands on her knees and leaned forward. "I'm Ron Weasley. What's your name?"

The instant he heard that name, Yuzo, who had been sprawled in his seat like mush, pretending to doze, shot upright.

His eyes went perfectly round as he stared at the girl across from him, who very clearly had female features.

"You… what did you just say your name was?"

The words burst out of him, his voice carrying undisguised horror.

The red-haired girl was startled by his almost reflexive reaction. She shrank back against the seat, and her hands, which had been resting on her knees, quickly retreated into her wide sleeves.

She eyed Yuzo warily, her freckles bunching together as she frowned. She suspected he had heard rumors about her family somewhere beforehand, and maybe was even mocking her.

"…Ron. Ron Weasley."

She repeated it through gritted teeth, her chin tilting up slightly, putting on a stubbornness meant to cover her self-consciousness. "What are you staring at? Got a problem?"

After hearing it repeated by that young girl's mouth, Yuzo felt as though a Hogwarts Express had come thundering through his skull and flattened everything in its path.

Ron Weasley? That Ron is a girl?

An old memory split through his mind like lightning.

He remembered the blue-haired Goddess of Water who had handled his affairs before the transmigration.

Back then, still bitter about his sudden death, he'd seized the chance to choose a wish and bellowed an extra condition off the top of his head: "I hope my future living environment is a place where I can build a harem, preferably surrounded by beautiful girls!"

He remembered clearly that the goddess, who didn't look very bright, had put on a look of sudden realization and then flashed a huge "OK" gesture.

…So her "response" was to rewrite the settings of the entire world from the root?!

And now, looking at this "Ron Weasley" in front of him, whose very gender had been forcibly flipped, Yuzo felt a chill race up his spine and straight into his skull.

Don't tell me that idiot goddess changed all the main characters in the whole world…

He was drenched in sweat over the horrifying implications behind that thought, a fine cold sweat beading on his forehead, when a crisp, hurried patter of footsteps suddenly sounded in the corridor outside the compartment.

Then the door, which had been closed, was slid open again from outside with a rattle.

Yuzo whipped his head around almost by reflex.

Two girls stood in the doorway.

The one in front had a very bushy head of thick brown curls and slightly oversized front teeth.

Her Hogwarts robe was worn without a single wrinkle out of place, and she gave off an air of pride and rigor.

Yuzo recognized her at a glance. That face was a perfect copy of the bookworm Hermione Granger from the movies.

Behind Hermione stood a black-haired, bespectacled girl whom Yuzo had never seen before but who looked strangely familiar.

She seemed small and thin, dressed in plain clothes that fit rather better than most, and peered into the compartment with curiosity and timid eyes through round glasses whose bridge was wrapped in tape.

"Hello." Hermione lifted her chin, her gaze sweeping quickly over Yuzo and Ron, who were already seated, and she spoke in a rather commanding tone. "The other compartments are all packed, and everyone's making a racket out there."

"If you don't mind, we'd like to squeeze in here."

Yuzo didn't respond to Hermione's request right away. His gaze was fixed, as if pulled by a magnet, on the forehead of the black-haired, bespectacled girl.

Through the gaps in her slightly messy black bangs, a dark red, lightning-shaped scar was plainly visible, lying dormant against her pale skin.

The moment he recognized that trademark lightning mark on her forehead and confirmed that she was Harry Potter, a hundred thousand dragons started roaring inside Yuzo.

No… judging by these two girls, how could this still be Harry Potter? It should clearly be Harriet Potter!

While Yuzo was working hard on mentally preparing himself to accept this wild rewrite of the setting, his gaze happened to drop and landed on the thick book tucked tightly under Hermione's left arm.

The cover was dark red hardboard, stamped with several very conspicuous golden script letters.

Hogwarts: A Girls' School History.

Seeing the title, Yuzo felt his brain go bzzt, and he slumped back into the seat behind him as if he'd just watched an atomic bomb go off.

Seeing that Yuzo only stared dumbly at the book in her hand and said nothing, Hermione frowned and turned directly to Ron, who sat on the other side.

"What do you think?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Judging by your clothes, you're from the Weasley family, right?"

Ron swallowed hard, pulled out the hands she'd kept tucked in her sleeves, and awkwardly straightened her collar.