"My ticket says Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock."

"King's Cross, eh?" He grumbles a bit more, then says, "All right, we'll take you. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Thank you, Uncle Vernon."

The Dursleys resume ignoring him for the rest of the day.

That's all right. As long as he gets to the train on time.

They get in the car at seven in the morning (Aunt Petunia convinces Dudley to sit next to Victor) and arrive at King's Cross at half past ten. "What's your platform, boy?"

"Nine and three-quarters."

His aunt and uncle stare. "Platform what?"

"Nine and three-quarters. It's a magic platform," he says, because with a number like nine and three-quarters that seems obvious.

"Barking," he says, "howling mad, the lot of them. Alright." He loads Victor's trunk onto a cart (but stays well away from the cage with the creepy bird) and starts wheeling it towards the station for him.

"Thank you, Uncle Vernon," he says, because Uncle Vernon could after all have left Victor to push his luggage trolley by himself. He carries Muninn's cage and a bag he packed that morning with his wand and a set of robes and some books for the train.

Uncle Vernon stops dead as they reach the platforms, facing them with a nasty grin on his face.

"Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine—platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle." There is indeed a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all. "Have a good term," he says with an even nastier smile. He leaves without another word. 

Aunt Petunia looks over her shoulder at him as she follows Uncle Vernon, but doesn't say anything, either.

He sets Muninn's cage down atop his luggage trolley.

"Suggestions?" he asks, only half joking. Muninn is a smart bird.

He calmly picks the lock on his cage, nudges the door open, hops out, and flutters to the floor in front of the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Then he walks through it like it isn't there.

A second later, with, if possible, a smug look on his feathered face, he strolls back through the barrier and flies up to perch on Victor's shoulder.

"...Thank you, Muninn."

He pushes the trolley through the barrier.

And on the other side:

A scarlet steam engine waits next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead says Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Behind him there's a wrought-iron archway where the barrier was, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it.

Smoke from the engine drifts over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hoot to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages are already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. 

He'd better get on the train and find a deserted compartment, then.

He does that.

There are a small but nonzero number of those!

He claims one and sits down and gets Hogwarts: A History out of his bag and starts reading it from where he left off.

Muninn is probably not reading over his shoulder, because ravens aren't literate. Right?

Well, mail-carrying birds have to be able to detect addresses somehow...

And a few minutes later a boy knocks on his compartment door and opens it. "Hi, can I stay here? Most of the other compartments are full."

"Yes, all right," says Victor.

Muninn peers up at the newcomer with bright black eyes.