Clang! Oof...
Just as Mrs. Weasley was instructing her children to line up and enter Platform 9¾ in order, a loud crash suddenly erupted ahead, accompanied by a muffled groan of pain from a man.

Curious, Mrs. Weasley turned around and saw the man from earlier, at the juncture of Platforms 9 and 10, slowly getting up from the ground while clutching his red and swollen forehead. He reached out, feeling the solid, hard brick wall, his eyes filled with anxiety and confusion.

At the train station, many passing tourists stopped curiously, pointing and whispering about the strangely behaving man. Not far away, two men dressed as guards clearly noticed the commotion and, taking out batons from their waists, held them in a strange manner as they began to walk towards the scene through the crowd.

"Mum, what do we do now?"

Percy, the eldest of the red-haired boys, stopped and turned to ask his mother for advice. Clearly, under the gaze of so many Muggles, they could no longer proceed through the platform one by one as planned to reach Platform 9¾.

"So she's a witch from a Muggle family?" Seeing Benitez's confusion and reaction, Mrs. Weasley instantly realized that her earlier words had inadvertently caused trouble.

"Percy, you stay here with your brothers and sister. I'll go help that gentleman get out of trouble first."

Looking at the two Ministry of Magic employees in Muggle uniforms, Mrs. Weasley frowned and quickly walked forward.

Because of her husband Arthur Weasley's job, she knew very well what the Ministry of Magic's emergency procedures were like – a Memory Charm plus a Muggle Repelling Charm, simple and effective.

However, unless one was a master of the Memory Charm, most wizards couldn't precisely control the range of memory they erased. That is, the gentleman could very likely lose some precious memories forever.

"Excuse me, thank you... Sorry, let me handle this."

Before the two Ministry of Magic employees could intervene, Mrs. Weasley squeezed through the crowd, pulled out a small wooden stick from her bosom, waved it in front of the "guards," and pulled Benitez away from the brick wall of the platform.

"Madam, may I ask..."

"I am Molly Weasley, and my husband Arthur Weasley also works at the Ministry. We're here to send our children to school today. I believe our goal is for the children to get on the train smoothly, isn't it?"

Mrs. Weasley quickly explained, while nodding her chin towards the back of the "guards," signaling them to look behind them.

Turning around, the two "guards" looked at the boys with owl cages on their trolleys and the surrounding tourists. They exchanged glances, nodded, put away their batons, reattached them to their waists.

"Then, thank you for your help. Rest assured, we will handle everything soon and will not affect the children's going to school."

After speaking, the two turned around and began to disperse the crowd like normal guards, allowing the stagnant flow of people to resume.

"I'm sorry, sir, I must apologize to you. I didn't expect..."

Mrs. Weasley pulled Benitez aside and sincerely expressed her apologies before he could speak.

"No need to apologize, I should have figured it out. Such a crowded place would be a mess without such a design. I'm just a little worried about little Elena."

Benitez shook his head dismissively, a faint bitterness flashed across his lips.

Having had a slight brush with the wonders of the magical world, he realized when Mrs. Weasley appeared that the invisible "door" was clearly only open to wizards.

"Madam, you are a witch, aren't you? Could you grant me a small request? If you see Elena when you go in, um, the little silver-haired girl, could you please help look after her? I'm a little worried that the child's suitcase might be too heavy."

Benitez paused, looked at the short, plump witch in front of him, and said earnestly, his tone tinged with a little pleading. As an ordinary person, that's all he could do.

"Rest assured."

Mrs. Weasley looked at the man's appearance and replied softly, while beckoning to the children behind her.

"Percy, George, Fred... When you get to the platform, don't rush to chat with your classmates. Help this gentleman's daughter settle down, okay?"

"Of course, Mum."

"No problem, maybe she's a new student in our house."

"Anyway, definitely not Slytherin."

…………

"I didn't expect to see a steam train in London. This is probably the last one in active service in the UK, right? Although the driving method is mostly modified by magic."

After passing through the ticket gate leading to Platform 9¾, Elena supported the trolley, looked up at the scene in front of her, and marveled.

On the platform, the smoke from the steam locomotive swirled above the chattering crowd, and cats of various colors darted between people's feet. Amid the humming of the crowd and the noise of dragging heavy luggage, owls also hooted shrilly, answering each other.

A scarlet steam engine was parked beside the platform crowded with passengers. A distinct sign in the center of the train read "Hogwarts Express, departs at eleven o'clock sharp."

Theoretically, if you don't count Arthur Weasley's illegal flying car, this should be one of the few successful implementations of large-scale magic machinery in the magical world – and perhaps the only one.

However, as the birthplace of the first industrial revolution, the UK had already entered the internal combustion engine era in 1952. Judging only by the bright red and shiny exterior, it's hard to imagine that this is already an old model that has been running for fifty years.

Even this Hogwarts Express took two terms of the Minister for Magic, including one hundred and sixty-seven Memory Charms and the largest Concealment Charm casting record in British history, before it could smoothly appear on the tracks between King's Cross Station and Hogsmeade Village.

According to the records in *A History of Magic*, Elena could clearly feel that since 1945, with the rapid development of the non-magical world, all technological innovations in the magical world had stagnated.

"It seems that if I want to do something big, I must first find a way to figure out what happened back then."

Elena thoughtfully twirled the silver hair that hung down from her shoulder.

If it was only because of the *International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy* promulgated in 1692, the pace of technological innovation in the magical world should not have been so severely stagnant. There must be a deeper reason behind this.

Before figuring out the undercurrents hidden behind the scenes, Elena didn't intend to actively launch the industrial revolution of the magical world. After all, the last person who did so is still imprisoned in the tower of Nurmengard.

——————

This chapter will be modified a bit, it is recommended to read it in ten minutes~~~