Harry Potter: There Must Be Something Wrong with My System
Chapter 1: The Visitor in the Rain
(There is more daily life, and perhaps less fighting. Also, for those complaining about it being stifling, if you could just read two more lines, you wouldn't say that. Most importantly, this is fanfiction, not the original work. Do not judge it using the original power system. Must you really see a Dragon King-style overpowered genius to be satisfied? Only to end in a cliché? I have my own power system; it is not abrupt, and it will not have a bad ending.)
London mornings rarely have such heavy rain.
Gloucestershire.
Fawley Manor sits on the gentle slopes of the Cotswold Hills, far from the city's hustle and bustle, surrounded by a forest of oak trees. The manor is three hundred years old, its honey-colored limestone walls covered in ivy that shines green under the wash of the rain. The iron gate of the manor is cast with the Fawley family crest—a spreading raven and an oak tree—with the Latin motto below worn blurry by time.
In the east wing of the manor is a small dining room. Su Yuis sitting in one of the chairs, with a bowl of Hu-la soup and two steamers of pan-fried buns in front of him.
"You are doing this on purpose to anger me!"
Kurama's angry voice resounded in Su Yu's mind, low and hoarse. The nine-tailed fox sealed within the soul space was currently lying on a ball of golden Chakra, her nine tails slapping the ground irritably, each strike sending out ripples of spiritual power. Her eyes were amber, vertical pupils glowing faintly in the darkness, staring fixedly at Su Yu—or more accurately, staring at the pan-fried bun clamped in Su Yu's chopsticks.
"I am not doing it on purpose." Su Yu took a bite of the pan-fried bun; the crust was fried golden and crispy, emitting a pleasant cracking sound. He chewed slowly on purpose, as if tasting some delicacy. "I am just eating breakfast. What you want to eat has nothing to do with what I am eating."
"How does it have nothing to do with it?" Kurama's tails slapped harder, causing a small spiritual storm in the soul space. "When you eat, the sense of taste is shared! When you eat that... that thing, I can also taste it!"
"Oh?" Su Yu took another bite, this time aiming the cross-section toward his chest—though the action was meaningless, as Kurama did not perceive the outside world through vision, but Su Yu felt it was interesting. "Then you should thank me. You get to taste the delicacy without having to bear the trouble of chewing and swallowing. What a bargain."
Kurama let out a low growl, the sound buzzing in Su Yu's skull. "I want cheesecake. I have been saying it all morning—cheesecake. That kind that is soft, dense, with a caramel color—"
"Only cheesecake feels wonderful!"
"It would feel like swallowing a brick." Su Yu picked up the Hu-la soup and took a sip, the spicy broth sliding down his throat, a warmth rising in his stomach. "Besides, Carsonwill not make you cheesecake at seven in the morning. He is as stubborn as a rock when it comes to etiquette and rules."
Kurama was silent for about three seconds.
"You could have told him to make it this morning last night."
"Why would I tell him?"
"Because I told you! I said it last night!"
"Did you say it last night?" Su Yu tilted his head, revealing a thoughtful expression. "I don't remember."
"You don't remember—" Kurama's voice rose sharply, her nine tails exploding outward simultaneously, the entire soul space trembling. "You are doing it on purpose! You do it on purpose every time! You clearly heard it! You clearly heard every word I said!"
Su Yu did not answer. He picked up another pan-fried bun, dipped it in a little Hu-la soup, and then—very, very slowly—placed it into his mouth. The moment he bit down, he even let out a satisfied sigh.
Kurama rolled over in the soul space, burying her face in her tails, and let out a series of garbled curses. She looked exactly like an incompetent husband sulking in the living room, furious but completely unable to do anything about the other party.
"You know," Su Yu said while chewing, his tone indifferent, "the recipe for this pan-fried bun is a secret formula I had Father get from the East Continent. Carson spent three months researching it to get the taste just right."
Kurama revealed one eye from her tails.
"Your father." Her tone carried a hint of disdain. "The man who dumped you here and ran off to travel the world with your mother?"
"That's him. He and Mother should be in Egypt now. The last letter said they were in Luxor. He is researching some ancient Egyptian cultivation techniques, and Mother is sketching on the side. Sounds quite romantic."
"Romantic." Kurama sneered. "Leaving you alone in this big house with a bunch of butlers and servants is called romantic?"
"I still have you."
Kurama froze. Her tails stopped swaying.
"...Don't try that on me." Kurama turned her head away, her voice suddenly becoming a bit awkward. "You think saying things like that will make me forgive you? Let me tell you, Su Yu, I—I will never help you again!"
"You said that last time, too."
"This time is for real!"
"You said that the time before last, too."
"Su Yu!"
"Alright, alright," Su Yu bit down on the last pan-fried bun and said indistinctly, "I'll have cheesecake made for you tomorrow morning, okay?"
Kurama was silent for a while.
"...It has to have caramel."
"Fine, with caramel."
"And put strawberries on the side."
"I will."
"Two of them."
"Fine, two of them."
Kurama was silent for another while, then let out a satisfied sigh and buried her face in her tails again. The spiritual storm in the soul space gradually subsided, and the golden Chakra became soft again, like a sea surface warmed by the sun.
Su Yu smiled inwardly but did not show it. He knew Kurama's temper—this demon fox, who had lived for over a thousand years, appeared irritable and short-tempered on the surface, but was actually easier to coax than anyone. As long as you gave her a step down, she would immediately take it. In this point, she was exactly like someone he used to know.
No, it should be said, she was exactly like someone he had read about in a book.
Su Yu wiped his mouth with the tablecloth.
This action was habitual—or rather, it was on purpose. There were neatly folded linen napkins placed right next to the dining table, with his initials engraved on the silver napkin rings, but he was just too lazy to reach for them. The tablecloth was so convenient, right at hand; wipe it and done.
"Apologies, Young Master, for disturbing you during your meal."
Carson the butler's voice sounded at the dining room entrance, unhurried, like a precision clock keeping time. He wore a black tailcoat ironed without a single wrinkle, his silver-gray hair combed meticulously back, and the expression on his face was always that perfectly appropriate deference. He had served the Fawley familyfor sixty-three years, ever since Su Yu's grandfather's generation, and had been the head butler of this manor. After Su Yu's mother followed love to the East Continent, it was Carson who single-handedly held up this manor, and it was Carson who raised Su Yu.
If one had to say who else Su Yu had as family in this world, Carson was probably the person closest to that definition.
"There is a... outside," Carson paused rarely, as if deliberating his words, "uh... old scholar? Professor? Teacher?"
Su Yu looked up at Carson.
"Sorry, Young Master, I cannot describe him either." Carson's brow furrowed slightly, one of his few changes in expression. "But he said his name is Albus Dumbledore, from Hogwarts, here for a home visit." He paused. "So, shall I invite him in?"
Su Yu put down his chopsticks.
Kurama snorted in the soul space: "Who? Who is here?"
"Shut up." Su Yu said in his mind.
"What did you say? You told me—"
"I said shut up." Su Yu stood up, the chair making a light sound on the floor. "Not you, I'm talking to Kurama."
Carson nodded slightly, indicating he understood. He had long been accustomed to Su Yu's habit of talking to himself from time to time—after all, ever since the Young Master seemed to awaken something at the age of six, he would occasionally talk to the air. Carson never asked. In his view, a qualified butler should know what to ask and what not to ask.
Kurama snorted again, her voice much lower than before: "I am telling you, I will absolutely not help you. Whatever that person is here for, you handle it yourself."
Su Yu ignored her.
"Please show him to the study," Su Yu said, his voice still in that lazy tone, "I will go over too."
Carson bowed slightly: "Very well, Young Master." He straightened up, his gaze falling on the tablecloth fibers remaining on the corner of Su Yu's mouth, and was silent for a second. "However, Young Master, although I have said it many times, please do not use the tablecloth to wipe your mouth next time. It is very unhygienic."
Su Yu waved his hand, already starting to walk out of the dining room: "Okay Carson, I have remembered, Carson."
Carson stood on the spot, watching Su Yu's back disappear around the corner of the corridor, and shook his head helplessly. The Young Master had everything—smart, sharp, lazy, unambitious—it was just that sometimes he really didn't understand etiquette. No, that wasn't right. It wasn't that he didn't understand; he just never followed it. In this point, he was exactly like his mother who had thrown everything away for love.
Carson sighed and turned to walk toward the main gate.
It was still raining. When he passed through the foyer, he glanced at the weather outside through the window. Dumbledore was standing outside the manor's iron gate, wearing a deep purple robe, part of his silver beard dampened by the rain, but he seemed not to care. He was looking up, examining the Fawley family crest on the gate, a few raindrops clinging to his half-moon spectacles, shimmering with a faint light in the gray daylight.
"Please come in, sir." Carson pushed open the iron gate and bowed slightly. "The Young Master is waiting for you in the study."
Dumbledore lowered his head and gave him a kind smile: "Thank you, Mr. Carson. The rain scene at Fawley Manor is even more moving than that of Hogwarts."
Carson replied without changing his expression: "You are too kind, sir. Please come this way."
The study was on the second floor of the main building of the manor, with a heavy oak desk in the center of the room, and several open books spread out on the table. Opposite the desk were two dark green armchairs, with a small tea table between them. The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, making the whole room warm, and the firewood occasionally made a "crackle" sound, as if whispering something.
Su Yu was slumped in one of the armchairs.
His posture—if that could be called a "posture"—was a state between "lying down" and "sliding off." The angle between his spine and the back of the chair was about forty-five degrees, his legs stretched out on the footstool, his head tilted to one side, and the whole person looked like a bag of flour that had been thrown up.
Having just finished his meal, he really was too lazy to move.
When Carson pushed the door open, the expression on his face did not change. He was already used to it. He brought Dumbledore into the study and said in that unhurried, neither servile nor overbearing tone: "Young Master, Mr. Albus Dumbledore has arrived."
Dumbledore stood at the door, his gaze shifting from Su Yu's posture to his face, his expression very subtle.
Carson poured a cup of black tea for each of them, then bowed slightly and exited the room.
Su Yu did not get up. He didn't even adjust his sitting posture. He just raised one hand and waved it lazily in Dumbledore's direction.
"Hi, Headmaster Dumbledore," he said, drawing out the end of his sentence with a strange tone that fell somewhere between mockery and sincerity. "Your appearance is like the moonlight on the banks of the Seine, rippling with glimmers of light amidst the waves of knowledge; it is also like the parchment scrolls in the Oxford Library, every page overflowing with the ink-scented fragrance of wisdom."
Dumbledore froze.
Then he laughed. It was not a polite smile, but a genuine laugh of amusement. His blue eyes twinkled with mirth behind his half-moon spectacles, and his silver beard trembled slightly with his laughter.
"Very well, Mr. Sean Foley," he said, sitting down in the armchair opposite and placing his wand casually on the tea table. "I am deeply honored that you would say so."
He paused, his gaze shifting from Su Yu's face to the fire in the hearth and back again. "However, I have come today regarding your upcoming enrollment at Hogwarts."
Su Yu did not move. He did not even open his eyes.
"Very well then," Dumbledore's voice remained kind, but carried a hint of formality. "I have come to ask, Mr. Sean Foley, have you prepared everything you need to bring before starting school?"
"Oh," Su Yu lazily exhaled a syllable. "For such troublesome things, you would be better off asking Butler Carson than me. He is the one who packs my things."
Dumbledore was silent for about two seconds.
This boy had a unique ability, an ability that made all responsible people want to sigh.
But Dumbledore was, after all, Dumbledore. He had been the Headmaster of Hogwarts for over thirty years; what kind of student hadn't he seen? He cleared his throat and changed his approach.
"Mr. Sean Foley," his voice remained patient and gentle. "As a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, you surely know many things. Do you need to go to Diagon Alley to buy a wand or an owl? I would be happy to take you."
This time, Su Yu moved.
He shifted sluggishly in his chair, his right hand reaching behind him—to be precise, into the gap between the armchair seat and the backrest. His fingers fumbled inside for two seconds, and then he pulled out a wand.
Its color was a deep red, but upon that red base shimmered a faint blue light. The two colors intertwined, flowed, and cycled on the wand body, as if never ceasing.
"Professor," Su Yu said, holding up the wand and waving it at Dumbledore. "I already have a wand. Fourteen and one-third inches, Incombustible Wood, Qilin horn."
He twirled the wand between his fingers. "It symbolizes immortality and the cycle."
"As for an owl," Su Yu stuffed the wand back under the seat cushion and continued, "You know, Professor Dumbledore, that is not popular over in the East. My father found me a Qingluan, and it is still in the backyard. Though I am currently waiting for her to shapeshift."
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose.
And then they stayed there.
What was all this? How did it get to shapeshifting? Was this even magic? And what on earth was that Incombustible Wood? Where did that Qilin horn come from?
He took a deep breath, suppressing the series of questions welling up.
But more important than these questions was something else.
From the moment he entered this study, Dumbledore's magical perception had been constantly sending him signals—inside Su Yu's body, there was a massive, surging, and primitive presence of power, suppressed by some seal he had never seen before, quietly lurking in the depths of Su Yu's soul.
At first, Dumbledore almost thought it was an Obscurus, but after sensing it carefully, he felt it was not. An Obscurus was chaotic, painful, and full of destructive desire, but this power... it was angry—yes, it had a will, and even—it was a rational anger.
He knew he should not do this. As the Headmaster of Hogwarts, he had to be responsible for every student at Hogwarts, and for the future of the magical world.
He needed to know what that thing inside Su Yu was.
Dumbledore's gaze focused slightly. His wand did not move, but his consciousness had silently extended outward, like a thin thread, probing toward Su Yu's mind.
Legilimency.
This was one of the magics Dumbledore excelled at. His Legilimency was so refined that he could silently read the surface memories of others. He did not intend to delve into Su Yu's privacy; he only wanted to catch a glimpse of the origin of that thing and judge whether it was dangerous.
And then...
Then he felt himself sinking.
This feeling was very strange. Dumbledore truly felt himself sinking, as if the ground beneath his feet had suddenly vanished, and he had fallen into a boundless body of water.
The water was very shallow. It just covered his ankles.
Dumbledore looked down—he saw himself standing in a shallow, gray-white water, the surface as calm as a mirror. He raised his head and looked forward.
In front of him was a door.
A massive, vertical-barred gate, with fences of vertical bars extending to the left and right, stretching endlessly. The fence was made of black iron, cast with patterns he could not understand—not Western magical runes, but more like some ancient Eastern curse seals. The gate was tightly closed, and a dark red light shone through the cracks, as if something was burning inside.
Su Yu was standing right in front of that gate.
He was no longer a lazy teenager. There was a sharpness in his posture that Dumbledore had never seen in reality. His hands were in his pockets, but this was no longer a sign of slackness, but a silence of readiness, like a sword sheathed.
Then Su Yu raised his head.
His eyes were red. His pupils were spinning crazily within their sockets, his lips slightly parted, exhaling a breath of white mist—in this gray-white world, that white mist was as clear as something substantial.
Dumbledore felt a chill. Not from the outside, but from the depths of his intuition. He had lived for over a hundred years, had seen the pressure of the Dark Lord Grindelwaldin his prime, and had seen the darkness when Lord Voldemort rose, but at this moment, what he felt from behind that gate was different from all of those. It was older, more primitive, and more—pure. Pure anger, pure killing intent, pure power, without any ornamentation, and disdaining any disguise.
A fox appeared inside the gate.
A red fox that blotted out the sky.
Her size—no, behind that gate, size had lost its meaning. She was so huge that Dumbledore could not judge where her outline extended. Her fur was flame-red, every strand emitting a scorching light, illuminating the dark red space behind the gate. Behind her, nine tails were swinging crazily, each swing whipping up a frenzy of Chakra, causing this world of consciousness to tremble slightly.
She bared her teeth, her golden slit pupils staring fixedly at Dumbledore, a low growl rumbling in her throat.
Dumbledore felt himself retreating. No, it was his consciousness, self-protectively distancing itself from that thing. His brain was screaming, telling him this was not a realm he should tread, telling him that the very existence of the creature before him had already exceeded his understanding of magic.
"Professor Dumbledore."
Su Yu's voice rang out. The tone remained that lazy, nonchalant tune.
"Using Legilimency without someone's consent," Su Yutilted his head, the crazily spinning pupils in his red eyes suddenly stopped, locking directly onto Dumbledore's gaze, "is a very bad habit."
He smiled slightly.
That smile held the arrogance of youth.
"As it happens, Kurama, she is very angry. Right, Kurama?"
Kurama could no longer hold back.
The cracks in the gate suddenly widened, and that red fox that blotted out the sky opened her giant mouth—the extent to which that mouth opened exceeded the limits of physics, as if the entire world was being encompassed by her jaws. Dumbledore saw her teeth, each one like a burning sword, each wrapped in golden Chakra flames.
Then, she swallowed Dumbledore in one gulp.
Darkness.
Scorching heat.
And then—
In the study, Dumbledore opened his eyes wide.
His back was soaked, cold sweat sliding down the curve of his spine, staining his deep purple robes with a dark water mark. His hands gripped the sides of the armchair tightly, his knuckles white from the exertion. He was gasping for air, his chest heaving violently, like someone who had just been pulled out of deep water.
The fire in the fireplace was still burning quietly. The black tea on the tea table was still emitting a faint heat. The rain outside the window was still falling, raindrops tapping against the glass, making a delicate, rhythmic sound.
Everything was normal.
Except for Dumbledore's heartbeat at this moment.
Su Yu was still in that lazy posture.
He was still lounging in the armchair.
He looked at Dumbledore's state and smiled lightly.
"Her name is Kurama," Su Yu said. "She is my pet. She said she would let you go this time for my sake, but next time, you won't be so lucky."
He paused, then added, "But don't worry, Kurama doesn't usually eat people. I will keep an eye on her."
Dumbledore took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes, letting his heartbeat slowly calm down. When he opened his eyes again, that pair of blue eyes had recovered their usual calm and wisdom, but beneath this calm surface, something had quietly changed.
"Child," Dumbledore's voice was a bit hoarse. He cleared his throat, recovering that gentle, reassuring tone. "I hope you mean what you say."
He stood up and smoothed the wrinkles of his robes. His knees were still a bit weak, but he would not let anyone see that.
"Since you have everything prepared," he looked down at Su Yu, the firelight from the fireplace reflecting on his half-moon spectacles, "then I shall not disturb you further. Remember the start of school date on the first of next month."
He turned around and walked toward the door of the study. When he reached the door, he stopped and turned his head.
"I welcome your arrival at Hogwarts."
The door closed.
Kurama was silent in the soul space for a long time, finally speaking: "That old man has quite some nerve."
"Indeed," Su Yu said lazily. "Quite some nerve."
"But he is not a bad person."
"Hmm."
Kurama was silent for a while longer.
"...The cheesecake you mentioned earlier, were you serious?"
He placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
"Carson!" he called out toward the door.
The door opened almost immediately. Carson stood at the door, holding a new cup of black tea in his hand.
"Young Master."
"Tomorrow morning, cheesecake. Caramel-colored, with two strawberries on the side."
Carson bowed slightly: "Very well, Young Master."
Chapter 2: King's Cross Station
September 1st in London. A thin layer of mist floated in the early morning air, as if someone had laid a translucent veil over the surface of the River Thames.
London, King's Cross Station.
Su Yu's current state was not much better than those Muggles who were still half-awake after a night of drinking.
He walked through the Great Hall of King's Cross Station, his steps as unsteady as if he were treading on an unstable floating board on water. His eyes were half-open and half-closed. His black robe hung loosely on his shoulders, the collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up to his mid-forearms. He looked as if he had been dragged directly from bed and dumped here.
In fact, that was exactly the case.
Carson followed three steps behind Su Yu, pushing a cart piled high. There were several huge leather suitcases, with the full name "Yu-Su-Fley" engraved in golden cursive on them, and a smaller name engraved next to it in Eastern Continent seal script; an owl cage — no, not an owl cage, but an emerald green bamboo birdcage, inside which stood a Qingluan, currently tucking its head under its wing for a nap.
"Young Master," Carson's voice came from behind, as steady as ever, "You have gone the wrong way. Platform Nine is on your left."
Su Yu's footsteps faltered. He turned his head blankly, looked to the left, then to the right, and then stood there, as if waiting for his brain to reboot.
"... Which way is left?"
Carson was silent for a second — this was his way of expressing helplessness.
"Young Master, please raise your left hand."
Su Yu raised his left hand.
"That side is the left."
"Oh." Su Yu put his hand down, turned half a position, and took steps in the right direction. After three steps, his trajectory began to veer to the right again.
Carson did not speak again. He just silently adjusted the direction of the cart and followed behind, like an old helmsman who always knew the correct course, patiently waiting for the dazed captain to find the direction himself.
Kurama let out a meaningful hum in the soul space: "Are you sure you are in a state suitable for going to school? You can't even tell left from right."
"Shut up," Su Yu responded incoherently in his mind, "I just didn't sleep well last night."
Kurama hummed again but said nothing more. Having lived with Su Yu for so many years, she had long since learned when to stop arguing — especially when the boy was clearly in a half-asleep, half-awake state. In this state, Su Yu's logic was chaotic, but his stubbornness was intact. Reasoning with someone who was both stubborn and sleep-deprived was like playing chess against a wall — pointless, and you could never win.
The two of them — plus an invisible fox — traversed the Great Hall of King's Cross Station with a strange rhythm. Su Yu walked swaying in front, like a scarecrow blown by the wind; Carson followed steadily behind. Occasionally, passersby would glance at the heavily laden cart, but their attention was quickly drawn away by other things — Londoners had an innate ability to turn a blind eye to anything unusual.
Finally, they arrived at the entrance to Platform Nine.
Su Yu stopped.
"Is this it?" Su Yu asked.
"Yes, Young Master." Carson steadied the cart, took a pocket watch out of his pocket, and glanced at it, "There are forty-seven minutes until departure. You have plenty of time."
Su Yu nodded. Just as he was about to step toward the wall, a voice came from the side.
"Oh, little one, are you not awake yet?"
The voice had a warm, maternal quality. Su Yu turned his head and saw a red-haired middle-aged woman walking towards him. She had some faint freckles on her face, and the lines at the corners of her mouth were deep — the marks left by years of smiling.
"It's not good to walk like this," the woman had already reached Su Yu and took his hand without asking, "It's easy to have accidents. What if you bump into a pillar? What if you trip over a luggage cart? Look at you, child, your eyes are almost closed."
Her hands were warm. There were some rough calluses on her palms, traces left by doing a lot of housework.
Su Yu was led by her hand, walking forward in a daze, then rubbed his cheeks hard. The warmth and pressure of her palm finally caused his brain to struggle awake from its slumber. He blinked, and his vision became a little clearer.
Only then did he see the full picture of the family in front of him.
The red-haired middle-aged woman — Su Yu had already determined her identity in his mind — was obviously Molly Weasley. Following her were two identical boys; those were George and Fred, without a doubt. Beside them was a boy who looked shorter than Su Yu, also with red hair, his freckles even denser than his mother's, clutching a fat, scruffy rat in his arms, his expression somewhere between nervous and excited. That must be Ron.
And on the other side of Mrs. Weasley stood a little girl.
She looked younger than everyone else, her hair also red, but darker than her brothers', the color of autumn maple leaves wet with rain, hanging heavily on her shoulders. Her eyes were bright brown, and she was currently tilting her head slightly, looking at Su Yu with a curious gaze.
"This child is so beautiful," Mrs. Weasley held Su Yu's hand, looking him up and down, her tone full of admiration, "Look at these features, it's like he walked right out of a painting. Whose child are you? Why are you here alone? Where is your family?"
Before Su Yu could answer, the voice of George — or Fred— came from behind.
"Look at how cool he was walking just now!" one of the twins said loudly, his voice full of exaggerated admiration.
"Yes, yes, half-closed eyes, swaying, like he was dancing a dance we haven't learned yet!" the other immediately chimed in.
"Next time I'll learn to do that! It must be cool!"
"Right, right, we'll walk to breakfast like this tomorrow, people at school will definitely be surprised!"
The twins looked at each other, then simultaneously half-closed their eyes and began to mimic Su Yu's dazed walking posture from just now. George — if the one on the left was George — stretched his hands out in front, groping forward like a blind man; Fred tilted his head to one side, his mouth slightly open, his expression somewhere between sleepwalking and drunk.
They walked about five steps.
Then Fred's cart hit a pillar.
The cart, piled with six trunks, a cage, and a large bag of something, hit the obstacle, wobbled like a drunkard, and then — with a loud crash — everything fell to the ground. The trunks flipped open, clothes scattered everywhere; the cage door sprang open, an owl shrieked and flew out, circled under the dome of the hall, then landed on a beam, looking down at the mess below with a judgmental gaze.
"George! Fred!" Mrs. Weasley's voice suddenly rose an octave, like a suddenly triggered alarm, "You two — I've told you how many times! In public, you must — you must — heavens, look at the mess you've made!"
The twins immediately woke up from their "sleepwalking" state, their expressions quickly switching from unserious to "we are very sorry" mode — the speed of the switch made one suspect their experience in this area had formed muscle memory.
"Sorry, Mum —"
"We were just joking —"
"We'll clean it up right away —"
"Right now! Immediately! We'll clean it up now!"
The two bent down and started shoving things onto the cart in a panic. Fred chased the owl for half a circle, and finally, Ginny reached out her arm and whistled softly, and the owl obediently landed, looking at Ginny with a wronged expression, as if saying "It wasn't my fault, they started it."
"Alright, alright," Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath, turning to Su Yu, the expression on her face switching back to gentleness almost as fast as her sons', "Excuse us, child. Our family... well, as you can see, when there are many people, it's like this, lively."
"It's fine," Su Yu said. His voice still had a bit of the hoarseness of just waking up, but he was much more awake than before, "Mrs. Weasley, right?"
Mrs. Weasley was stunned for a second: "You know me?"
"Your family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," Su Yubowed slightly, his movements lazy but not lacking in etiquette, "Butler Carson of the Fawley family once mentioned it to me. My name is Yu-Su-Fley, you can just call me Su Yu."
"Foley?" Mrs. Weasley's eyes lit up, "Are you a child of the Fawley family? Oh, heavens, I haven't seen anyone from the Fawley family in a long time. Your mother... I remember when she was a little girl, I saw her once. It was at a party at the Malfoy house, she was wearing a blue dress, standing quietly in the corner, like a flower — like a flower..."
She stopped. Her expression changed subtly — Su Yucould tell she was recalling more details about his mother. Although the Fawley family was one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, in the past decade or so, they had almost completely disappeared from the social circles of the wizarding world. Some said the last heir of the Fawley family had eloped with an Eastern immortal, but others said there was still one child left in the Fawley family, and no one knew what that child looked like.
Mrs. Weasley evidently belonged to the group that knew some things but not everything. She opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but finally just patted the back of Su Yu's hand and changed the subject: "Are you here alone? No one to see you off?"
"Carson is behind," Su Yu pointed behind him, "He helped — Carson?"
He turned around and found Carson standing three steps away, his expression unmoved, as if all the farce that had just happened — the cart overturning, the owl flying away, the twins' imitation show — were all things he had expected, perfectly normal occurrences, after all, compared to the Young Master...
"Young Master." Carson bowed slightly.
"This is Carson," Su Yu introduced to Mrs. Weasley, "The head butler of the Fawley family. He manages everything."
Mrs. Weasley sized up Carson. With her eye — the eye of a mother who had raised seven children — she immediately saw certain qualities in this butler. That calm composure, that perfectly measured sense of distance, that restraint that would never be rude to anyone but would never be overly intimate — this was a true old-school English butler, and of a breed that was almost extinct.
"Hello, Mr. Carson." Mrs. Weasley nodded, "Thank you for taking care of this child."
"It is my duty, Madam." Carson bowed slightly, "And, saying 'take care' is not accurate. The Young Master is a very independent person. I am just responsible for packing the luggage."
Mrs. Weasley smiled and turned to Ron beside her: "Ron, this is the child from the Fawley family. You should be in the same year."
Ron hugged his rat, the freckles on his face appearing even more prominent in his nervousness. He nodded at Su Yu, his lips moved, but he didn't say anything decent. His rat — that fat rat named Scabbers — poked its head out from his arms, glanced at Su Yu with two small black eyes, and then quickly retracted.
Su Yu noticed the rat.
He didn't say anything. He just glanced at the rat and then turned his gaze away.
At this moment, a voice came from the side.
"Excuse me... sorry to bother you..."
It was a boy's voice, carrying a hint of hesitation and a bit of nervousness.
Everyone turned their heads.
A black-haired boy. He was wearing a T-shirt that was obviously too big for him, with the collar hanging loosely, revealing a thin neck. His hair was messy, as if he had never used a comb—or if he had, the hair itself refused to cooperate. Perched on the bridge of his nose were round-rimmed glasses, and behind the lenses, his eyes were a bright emerald green, currently looking at the—in his eyes—ordinary brick wall in front of him with a look of confusion and anticipation.
He was also pushing a trolley, but the luggage on it was pitifully sparse—only an old trunk that looked like it had been used for many years, and a cage tied with rope, inside which stood a snow-white owl, observing everything around it with an elegant and indifferent gaze.
It was Harry Potter.
Molly Weasley's reaction was faster than anyone else's. She stepped forward and enthusiastically grasped Harry's hand.
"Oh, dear," she said, the warmth in her voice a few degrees thicker than it had been for Su Yu just before, "is this your first time at King's Cross Station? Do you not know how to get to the platform?"
Harry nodded, the nervousness on his face easing slightly: "I... yes, I've been watching for a long time, and I still don't understand. I saw many people walk up to that wall and then... and then disappear, but..."
"That is Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," Molly Weasley said with a smile, "look, it's that wall right there. You just need to run straight through it. Don't be afraid, don't stop, and don't run too fast."
She turned to look at Ron Weasley: "Ron, you demonstrate."
Ron Weasley's face flushed. He held Scabbers, pushed his trolley up to the wall, took a deep breath—and then pushed the cart forward, walking through at a steady pace. His figure disappeared the moment it touched the brick wall, like a drop of ink falling into water, silent and traceless.
"Did you see that?" Molly Weasley patted his shoulder, "Go on, child. Don't be afraid."
Harry nodded. He gripped the handle of the trolley and walked toward the wall. His steps were hesitant at first, but by the third step, his pace became firm—and then he also disappeared.
"Alright," Molly Weasley turned to Su Yu, "it's time for you to go as well, child. Ron and Harry are both waiting for you on the other side."
Su Yu nodded. He turned to look at Carson.
Carson had already pushed the trolley in front of him. He took a list out of his pocket and began to check it item by item—with that serious attitude unique to a butler, completely regardless of the occasion.
"Young Master, all your other large luggage trunks have been checked in. Your wand is in the hidden pocket on your right-hand side. Your Qingluan cage is placed on the top layer of the luggage, covered with a piece of light-blocking cloth; remember to remove it after you arrive at the school."
"Alright, Carson." Su Yu began to roll his eyes.
"Your Hogwarts acceptance letter is in the left pocket of your outer robe; you will need to present it when registering. Your—"
"I know, Carson."
"—Galleons and Sickles are placed in three separate small pouches; the heaviest bag is the Galleon, please—"
"Alright, Carson,"
Carson looked up at Su Yu. Su Yu also looked at Carson. The two stared at each other for about three seconds.
"Young Master," Carson said, "every time you say 'I know,' it is usually when you know the least."
"This time I really do know, Carson."
"You said the same thing last time, Young Master."
"This time it's true."
Carson was silent for a moment, then folded the list and put it into his pocket. He took a step back and bowed slightly.
"Then, I wish you all the best at Hogwarts, Young Master."
"Mm." Su Yu gripped the handle of the trolley, "Go back, Carson. Don't just stand at the station, it's quite boring."
"As you wish, Young Master."
Carson straightened up, turned around, and walked toward the direction of the station hall. He took three steps, then stopped and looked back.
"Young Master."
"Hm?"
"...Remember to eat on time."
Su Yu was stunned for a moment. Then he smiled.
"I know, Carson."
This time, when he said "I know," his tone was different from before.
Carson seemed to notice the difference as well. He said nothing more, turned around, and disappeared into the crowd.
Su Yu took a deep breath, and just as he was about to push the trolley toward the wall, a voice came from the side.
"—Hermione! How many times have I told you! Do not forget your ladylike manners just because you are too excited!"
It was a woman's voice, carrying a tone of helplessness, wanting to be stern but unable to be. Su Yu turned his head and saw a scene that made him unable to resist taking a second look.
A little girl with thick, bushy, brown curly hair stood not far away. Her hair looked like a cloud scattered by the wind, fluffy and exploding outwards; her eyes were dark brown, currently shining brightly, as if someone had lit two small lamps inside them. She was holding a thick book in her arms—Su Yu glanced at the cover; it was Hogwarts: A History.
Standing in front of her was a middle-aged woman—obviously her mother, and next to her stood a middle-aged man with his hands spread open, the expression on his face perfectly interpreting the full meaning of the phrase "I can't do anything about it either."
"But Mum," the little girl said in a voice filled with curiosity, "I was just too excited..."
"Hermione," her mother interrupted, "walk over quietly, don't stand there shouting."
"But—"
"Hermione."
"...Alright, Mum."
The little girl—Hermione Granger, without a doubt—finally closed her mouth, but the expression on her face clearly indicated that although her mouth was closed, her brain was still running at a hundred miles per hour.
She pushed her trolley toward the wall. Halfway there, she sensed something and turned her head.
Her gaze met Su Yu's in the air.
Su Yu did not look away. He just stood there, the handle of the trolley in his hand.
Hermione looked at him for two seconds—during those two seconds, Su Yu could feel her quickly scanning him from head to toe with those bright brown eyes. Then, she did something that surprised Su Yu a little.
She turned around and walked toward him.
She walked up to Su Yu, stopped, and then extended a hand.
"Hello," she said, her voice as crisp as tapping a crystal glass, "my name is Hermione Granger. Are you going to Hogwarts too?"
Su Yu looked down at her extended hand, then also reached out and shook it.
"Yu-Su-Fley," he said, "you can call me Su Yu."
"Su Yu," Hermione repeated his name, the pronunciation unexpectedly accurate, "are you from the East? Your name sounds Eastern. I saw an introduction to the Eastern magicsystem in the appendix of A History of Modern magic; although it was only three pages, I feel those three pages were written far too briefly. Do you know what the difference is between Eastern magic and our magic? What are their wands made of? Are their spells also in the Latin family? Do they—"
"Hermione!" her mother shouted from behind, her voice filled with helpless warning.
Hermione stuck out her tongue—a gesture that finally made her look like an eleven-year-old girl—but she had no intention of stopping her speech. She lowered her voice, but her speaking speed did not slow down at all.
"Sorry, my mother always says I shouldn't ask too many questions at once, but I just can't help it. You see, this is my first time meeting a—a person from—" she paused, seemingly weighing her words, "—an Easterner related to magic. I mean, among the people I know, no one has been to the East, and no one knows what Eastern magic is like. I read in Hogwarts: A History that a few Eastern Wizards once served as exchange scholars at Hogwarts, but that was over two hundred years ago. Do you know about those exchange scholars? Have you—"
"Hermione," Su Yu finally spoke. His voice was not loud, but it made Hermione stop talking, "You ask so many questions, I can't answer them all at once."
Hermione's face flushed slightly: "Sorry, I—"
"However," Su Yu continued, "I can tell you a few things. First, the Eastern magic system is indeed quite different from ours; they focus more on the application of 'Qi' rather than the chanting of spells. Second, their wands... er, they don't use wands. It might be quite different from Mr. Ollivander's philosophy. Third, their spells are not Latin; most are Ancient Chinese, or some kind of even more ancient Oracle Bone Script characters."
Hermione's eyes lit up as if someone had flipped a switch. Her mouth opened slightly.
"You really—you really know these things?" Her voice trembled slightly with excitement, "Have you learned Eastern magic? Have you—"
"Hermione!" her mother shouted again, this time with a hint of genuine sternness in her voice, "You haven't even entered the platform yet! Stop pestering that child with questions over there!"
Hermione's face turned completely red. She turned around and waved at her mother: "Coming, coming, Mum! Coming right away!" Then she turned back and looked at Su Yuwith a look that said, "We aren't finished yet."
Su Yu smiled. He noticed Kurama rolling her eyes dramatically in his soul space.
"That human is noisy and annoying," Kurama's voice rang in Su Yu's mind, with undisguised disdain, "how is she even noisier than you?"
Su Yu responded in his mind, "She is just quite enthusiastic."
"Enthusiastic?" Kurama let out a scoff, "This is called chatter. I've stayed inside the seal for a thousand years, and the loudest sounds I've heard don't amount to what she's said in these five minutes. She says more in one person than Carson says in a month."
"That's because Carson doesn't like to talk."
"No, it's because normal people wouldn't be like her—like this—like this—" Kurama seemed to be searching for a suitable word, "—like a little chatterbox!"
"We had better hurry and go in," Su Yu said to Hermione, his tone gentle but firm, "in case the train leaves in a while, and we won't be able to get to school."
Hermione's eyes widened instantly.
"Oh! You're right!" She turned and ran toward her parents, speaking so fast it was like reciting a tongue twister, "Mum and Dad I'm going in now don't worry I will write back you don't need to see me off I'm going in!"
She pushed her trolley and rushed toward the wall without looking back. Her mother shouted something from behind, but Hermione had already disappeared into the brick wall, like a pebble shot from a slingshot—fast, accurate, and carrying an aura of "nobody can stop me."
Su Yu shook his head, pushed his trolley, and walked toward the wall at a steady pace.
Chapter 3: The Feast on the Hogwarts Express
Platform 9 ¾ appeared before Su Yu.
The Hogwarts Express was parked there, a deep red steam train. The platform was teeming with people—students in Wizard robes, parents pushing trolleys, first-years clutching owl cages, and some teenagers who looked like older students standing in small groups chatting. Owls hooted in their cages, toads kicked restlessly in palms, and a ginger cat jumped out of someone's arms, darted across the platform, and disappeared into the crowd.
Su Yu took a deep breath. The air was filled with the scent of coal smoke, old wood, and some indescribable aura of magic.
"Su Yu!"
Hermione's voice cut through the crowd. She was standing at the door of one of the train carriages, waving vigorously at him. Her mass of bushy, curly hair became even fluffier in the steam, making her look like a cloud that had been blown next to the train by the wind.
"Over here! There are still empty seats here! Come quickly!"
Su Yu pushed his trolley over. Hermione had already moved her luggage onto the train and was trying to help Su Yu with his trunks—but she clearly wasn't strong enough; the trunk had only been dragged halfway off the trolley by her before it got stuck in the gap between the carriage door and the platform.
"Let me," Su Yu said. He walked over, lifted the trunk with one hand, easily hoisted it over his head, and placed it inside the carriage. Then came the second trunk, the third trunk, and the phoenix cage.
Hermione stood by, watching as Su Yu moved those seemingly impossibly heavy trunks onto the train one by one as if they were toys, her expression shifting from surprise to admiration.
"You're really amazing," she said, her tone sincere without a hint of flattery, "Do you exercise regularly? Or does magicfrom the Eastern Continent enhance one's physical strength?"
"A bit of both," Su Yu said, "And my trunks aren't as heavy as they look."
He wasn't entirely telling the truth—his trunks were indeed heavier than ordinary ones, but his physical strength was indeed far superior to his peers—this was thanks to Kurama. Ever since she established a symbiotic connection with that fox, his physical fitness had been unconsciously enhanced.
After settling their luggage, the two walked along the carriage corridor, looking for an empty compartment. Hermione walked in front, peeking into every compartment they passed, while talking non-stop—about the magicbooks she had read, about her expectations for Hogwarts, and about those "not-so-successful" magic experiments she had done at home. Her speaking speed was as fast as a machine gun, with plenty of ammunition, showing no signs of stopping.
Kurama let out a long, pained sigh in the soul space.
"She's still talking," Kurama's voice carried an air of incredulous despair, "From the platform to getting on the train, she has said... I've lost count of how many sentences she has spoken. Does she not know that there is something in this world called'silence'?"
"She's just excited," Su Yu responded in his mind, "This is her first time going to a magic school. No one talked to her at her previous school."
Kurama was silent for a moment.
"...No one talked to her?"
"Yeah. The book said so. She was always isolated by her classmates at her previous school."
Kurama was silent for another moment. Then she let out a huff—this huff was different from her previous disdain, carrying a sort of awkward, reluctant softness.
"Well, she doesn't have to be so noisy."
Su Yu didn't call her out.
"Here!" Hermione finally found an empty compartment, pushed the door open, and walked in, "There's no one here! Let's sit here!"
The compartment wasn't large, but it was clean. On both sides were deep red velvet benches, with a fixed table in the middle and a luggage rack above the window. On the platform outside the window, the crowd was still surging, and steam condensed into tiny water droplets on the glass, slowly sliding down the window frame.
Su Yu walked in and lay directly on one of the benches. His movements were smooth and natural, as if this train bench had been custom-made for him as a bed—in fact, given his height, the bench was just enough for him to lie flat, though his feet would hang slightly over the edge.
Hermione sat on the opposite bench, placing her copy of History of Magic on her lap, but she didn't open it—because she was still talking.
"Have you really learned magic from the Eastern Continent? Did your father teach you? You said magic from the Eastern Continent doesn't require wands; is that true? How do they do it? Is it with gestures? Or is it with—"
"My father taught me some," Su Yu replied with his eyes closed, "But I learned most of it myself. magic from the Eastern Continent can indeed be done without wands, but it requires a very long period of cultivation. They call that power 'Qi' or'Spiritual Power,' which is a bit different from our magic. As for gestures—"
He extended his hand, palm upward. His fingertips glowed slightly—it was a different kind of light from a wand's, softer, warmer, like a small piece of moonlight held in the palm. The light flickered at his fingertips, then transformed into a tiny golden lotus flower, slowly rotating in his palm.
Hermione's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. This time, she wasn't trying to talk—she was just stunned.
"This is—"
"A very basic little trick," Su Yu withdrew the light, and the lotus flower dissipated into the air, leaving a faint golden afterglow, "Children in the Eastern Continent can all do it."
"That's amazing!" Hermione's voice was filled with sincere wonder, "I've never read about anything like this in books! You must teach me! I mean, if you have the time, if you are willing—"
"Sure," Su Yu said, "But it requires a lot of patience."
"I have patience!" Hermione said immediately, "I have a lot of patience! When I was at home, in order to understand the principle of a formula, I could sit in the library for a whole day!"
Just as Hermione was about to continue asking more questions, the compartment door was pulled open.
A round-faced boy stood at the door. His hair was light blonde, his build was slightly chubby, and he wasn't tall—a little shorter than Hermione. His face wore a timid expression.
"I'm Neville Longbottom," his voice was very small, "There are no seats left in front, c-could... could I sit here..."
Hermione reacted super fast. She patted the empty seat next to her directly: "Of course! Sit here! What was your name again? Neville? Come in quickly!"
A look of relief appeared on Neville's face. He walked into the compartment and sat cautiously on the seat next to Hermione.
"Thank you," Neville said, his voice a little louder than before, but still carrying a timid quality, "I... my grandmother told me to find an empty compartment on the train to sit in, but I looked in several, and they were all full. Then I saw your compartment, but I was afraid of disturbing you..."
"You're not disturbing us," Hermione said, her speaking speed picking up again, "You've come just at the right time. We were discussing magic. Can you do magic too? What kind of wand do you use? Is your family all Wizards?"
Neville was a bit overwhelmed by this barrage of questions. His face flushed slightly, and he rubbed his hands uneasily on his knees.
"I... I can do a little. My wand was used by my dad, my grandmother is a Witch, and my mom and dad... they..." His voice became even smaller, as if something was stuck in his throat, "They... used to be Wizards too..."
Hermione keenly sensed the oddity in Neville's tone. She didn't continue to press.
At this moment, in order to thank the two, Neville took out a box of biscuits.
"These are butter biscuits my grandmother made," Nevillesaid, with a hint of pride in his tone, "She makes a lot every time she makes biscuits. Would you like to try some?"
"Of course!" Hermione took one without hesitation and popped it into her mouth, "Mmm—so delicious! The butter flavor is so rich!"
Su Yu lay on the bench, extended his hand, and groped on the tabletop—his eyes were still closed—his fingers touched the box, then slid past the side of the box.
Neville quickly pushed the box to Su Yu's hand. Su Yu's fingers touched the box, felt a biscuit, picked it up, and popped it into his mouth.
The taste of butter melted on the tip of his tongue, rich and sweet, with a hint of vanilla.
Kurama let out a long, satisfied sigh in the soul space.
"This is not bad," Kurama said, the disdain in her voice completely gone, replaced by a sincere pleasure, "This is not inferior to cheesecake. That child named Neville, his grandmother has good skills."
"You're certainly easy to talk to when you're eating," Su Yuresponded in his mind.
"I'm easy to talk to when I'm not eating too. It's you who never listens."
The three shared the biscuits, and the atmosphere gradually became relaxed. Neville's words also increased—he began to talk about his grandmother, about the story of how he accidentally broke his grandmother's vase when he was little, and about the story of his first toad, Trevor. Hermione listened with great interest, occasionally interjecting a question or letting out a few exclamations. Su Yu lay on the bench, eyes closed, occasionally humming to indicate he was still listening.
The scenery outside the window began to change. The urban area of London gradually faded away, replaced by rolling fields and hills. On the distant hillsides, one could occasionally see a flock of sheep, or a solitary farmhouse, with thin white smoke rising from the chimney.
"Cling-clang—"
A crisp sound of bells came from the corridor. The compartment door was pushed open, and a smiling Witchstood at the door pushing a trolley. The trolley was filled with all kinds of snacks—Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands...
"Dear, would you like to buy something?" the Witch's voice was kind and warm.
Before Su Yu had time to reply, Kurama's voice exploded in his mind.
"Cheesecake! Is there cheesecake! No—Chocolate Frogs! I want Chocolate Frogs! And Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! And that—what is that—Pumpkin Pasties are fine too! I want everything! I want it all!"
Su Yu sat up. His movement was so fast that both Hermione and Neville were startled—this was the first time today they had seen Su Yu make such a swift movement.
"I'll take everything," Su Yu said to the saleswoman. He pulled a handful of Galleons from his pocket—the pocket money Carson had prepared for him in advance, packed in a small pouch with a note attached that read "Snack Money"—and placed them on the trolley.
The saleswoman was stunned for a moment: "Everything? Dear, are you saying..."
"Everything," Su Yu said again. He began to move the snacks off the trolley—Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, Pepper Imps, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Fizzing Whizzbees, Ice Mice, Acid Pops—placing them on the table one by one, and soon they piled up into a small mountain.
Hermione and Neville both widened their eyes.
"Su Yu," Hermione's voice was filled with disbelief, "Can... can you finish all that?"
"You bought... all of them?" Neville's voice was even quieter, but his surprise was no less than Hermione's. "This... how much must this cost?"
"It's fine," Su Yu unwrapped a pumpkin pasty and took a bite—or, to be precise, Kurama made him take a bite. "I'm a big eater. Besides, my treat. You two eat whatever you want."
Hermione's eyes lit up as if someone had turned on a lamp. A brilliant smile bloomed on her face.
"Really?" Her voice trembled slightly with excitement. "You're really treating us? I can eat whatever I want?"
"Eat whatever you want."
"Oh my goodness! Thank you!" Hermione immediately grabbed a Chocolate Frog and tore open the packaging. "My mother never lets me eat this many sweets. She says too much sugar is bad for your teeth and bad for your brain. But—but—this is a Chocolate Frog! I've read about them in History of Magic! Do they really jump?"
No sooner had she finished speaking than the Chocolate Frog leaped out of her hand, hopped onto the table, and was then pressed down by Su Yu's quick reflexes.
"They do jump." Su Yu handed the Chocolate Frog back to her.
Hermione took the Chocolate Frog, her eyes crinkling into crescents as she smiled.
Neville also took a pumpkin pasty and took a cautious bite. His expression shifted from reserved to relaxed, and then from relaxed to happy.
"Thank you, Su Yu," Neville said, his voice a little louder than before. "You're really nice."
"It's nothing," Su Yu lay back down, still chewing on his pumpkin pasty. "Eat up."
The compartment was filled with the sweet scent of snacks. Hermione continued to talk while she ate—but this time, the content was different. She no longer asked serious academic questions, but instead shared funny stories from her childhood, talking about the time she first discovered her magic talent, how she found Hogwarts: A History in the bookstore, and how she had spun around in the living room for joy when she received her acceptance letter. Neville also told them some things about himself—about how his grandmother taught him his first spell, about the singing flowers he planted in his garden at home, and about how his toad, Trevor, always liked to run off.
"—Speaking of Trevor," Neville suddenly stopped what he was doing, the smile on his face freezing, then quickly replaced by an expression of panic. "Where is Trevor?"
He lowered his head and looked under the seat. Then he lifted his head again and scanned the entire compartment. His face turned paler and paler, and his voice grew more and more anxious.
"Trevor is gone! I just—I just had him on the table! He must have jumped away! Oh my goodness, I can't find him!"
"Don't panic," Hermione put down her biscuit, her tone becoming serious. "We'll help you look. When did he go missing?"
"I don't know—I was eating the whole time, I didn't notice—"
"Then he might still be in this carriage. Let's go out and look."
Hermione stood up, brushed the biscuit crumbs off her robes, and then turned to Su Yu.
"Su Yu, are you coming?"
Su Yu lay on the bench, eyes half-closed, his whole body looking like a cat softened by the sun.
"No," he said, his voice lazy. "You guys go. I'll wait here for you."
Hermione seemed to have anticipated this answer. She nodded and pulled Neville by the hand, walking outside—Neville was still clutching half a pumpkin pasty in his hand, his expression looking like he was about to cry.
"Don't worry," Hermione's voice came from the corridor, full of confidence. "We will definitely find Trevor!"
Then their footsteps gradually faded away.
The compartment became quiet.
Su Yu lay on the bench, listening to the rhythmic sound of the train wheels rolling over the tracks.
Kurama also quieted down in the soul space. The fox lay on her Chakra, her nine tails curled into a soft cushion, her chin resting on her tails, eyes half-closed.
The train continued to move forward. The sky outside the window grew darker and darker.
It was unknown how much time had passed—perhaps half an hour, perhaps an hour—when footsteps and voices came from the corridor. Hermione's voice was crisp and hurried, while Neville's voice was low and dejected; the two voices intertwined, like two threads of different colors twisted into one.
The compartment door was pulled open.
Hermione walked in, followed by Neville. Neville's face was full of disappointment, his hands empty, with no sign of Trevor.
"We checked several carriages and couldn't find him," Hermione said, sitting down with a hint of unwillingness in her tone. "We asked a lot of people, but no one had seen a toad."
Neville sat in his chair, head bowed.
"My grandmother will be very angry," his voice was very small, almost inaudible. "She says I'm a big idiot, always forgetting this and forgetting that..."
"You are not a big idiot," Hermione said immediately. "Toads are just the kind of creatures that like to run around. Look, his name is 'Trevor,' it sounds like a restless name."
Neville looked up and managed a weak smile: "Thank you, Hermione. But..."
"No more 'buts'," Hermione patted his shoulder. "We'll look again when we get to school. Maybe he's already run off to Hogwarts on his own? Toads are the kind of creatures that always know the way home."
Su Yu woke up at this moment.
He sat up, rubbed his waist, and stretched out a big yawn.
"Neville," Su Yu said, his voice still a little hoarse. "Don't worry."
He reached out and patted Neville's shoulder.
"He must have just lost his way somewhere," Su Yu said, his tone calm but certain. "If it's meant to be, you'll meet again. Maybe he'll appear on his own in a little while."
Neville looked at him, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just nodded.
The train's speed began to slow down.
"We're almost there!" Hermione's voice became excited again. She leaned against the window, trying to see the scene outside clearly.
The train traveled for a few more minutes, slowing down more and more. Then, accompanied by a long whistle and a screech of metal friction, the Hogwarts Express slowly came to a halt.
"First years! This way! First years!"
A booming voice came from the platform, piercing through the steam and darkness, clearly reaching every carriage.
Su Yu stood up from his seat. He followed Hermione and Neville off the train. The air on the platform was much colder than in the carriage.
A huge figure stood at the front of the platform, holding a lamp in his hand. The lamp looked like a toy in his hand—because his hands were so big that he could hold the entire lamp with one hand. He was at least two meters tall—no, three meters? His face was covered in thick beard, his hair looked like a black bush, and his two eyes shone brightly in the lamplight.
That was Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper of Hogwarts.
"First years! This way! Don't be afraid! Just follow me!" Hagrid's voice echoed on the platform, carrying an irresistible sense of friendliness. "Come on, come on—mind your step! This path is a bit steep!"
Su Yu, Hermione, and Neville followed the crowd, walking in the direction Hagrid indicated. Behind the platform was a steep, narrow path, flanked by dark bushes, and the ground underfoot was uneven, filled with rocks and tree roots. Hermione walked very carefully, holding the hem of her robes with one hand, while her other hand subconsciously grabbed Su Yu's sleeve. Neville walked on the other side of Su Yu, his steps somewhat stumbling, but he managed to keep up.
At the end of the path was a black lake. The lake water appeared deep and mysterious in the night, like a huge black mirror, reflecting the starry sky above and the silhouette of the distant Castle—that was Hogwarts Castle, standing on the cliff across the lake.
"Four to a boat!" Hagrid stood by the lake, holding his lamp, and shouted loudly. "No more! Four to a boat! Come, come, come—"
He jumped into a boat first. The boat swayed under his weight, but quickly stabilized. Hagrid sat at the bow, his lamp placed on his knees, the light illuminating his thick beard as if it were a ball of golden flame.
Su Yu looked at Hermione, then at Neville.
But the surrounding first years were all busy finding boats and getting on them; no one noticed that they were missing one person.
"Never mind," Su Yu said. "Three is fine. Let's go."
He got into the boat first, then reached out and pulled Hermione and Neville up one by one. After the three of them were seated steadily, the boat was much more stable than Hagrid's.
Hagrid shouted something from the bow, and then—all the boats started moving at once.
They had no oars, no sails, and no visible means of propulsion.
Hermione sat opposite Su Yu, her hands gripping the edge of the boat tightly, her expression a mix of excitement and nervousness.
Neville sat next to Su Yu, his nervousness more apparent than Hermione's.
The fleet of boats crossed the lake and arrived at a small pier below the Castle. The stone steps of the pier were covered with moss and dampened by the lake water, making them slippery to walk on. Hagrid jumped onto the pier first, then turned around, using his huge hands to pull one boat after another to the shore, helping the children in the boats to land safely.
"This way! This way!" Hagrid's voice echoed in the cavern. "Watch your step! Follow me!"
"We'll wait for everyone to come up at the boathouse!"
Su Yu leaned against the wall of the boathouse, hands in his pockets, looking like he was zoning out. Hermionestood next to him, still clutching the book tightly in her hand, her lips moving slightly as if she were reciting something under her breath. Neville stood on the other side of Su Yu, his face still wearing that dejected expression from failing to find Trevor.
Just at this moment, a booming voice came from outside the boathouse.
"—Who lost a toad?"
That voice was Hagrid's.
Neville's whole being lit up.
He jerked his head up, the dejection on his face wiped away, replaced by an excitement bordering on ecstasy. His mouth opened, his hand went up, and his voice was so loud that even he couldn't believe it.
"It's mine! It's my toad!"
Hagrid's figure appeared at the boathouse entrance. In his large hands, he held a toad.
"Trevor!" Neville rushed over, carefully taking his toad from Hagrid's hands and hugging it tightly to his chest. "Trevor! Where did you run off to! I've been looking for you all day!"
Trevor bulged his eyes and let out a satisfied "croak."
Hermione stood nearby, watching Neville hugging Trevor, a warm and bright smile on her face. She turned her head and looked at Su Yu.
Su Yu was still leaning against the wall.
"If it's meant to be, you'll meet again," Hermione said, imitating Su Yu's tone, and then laughed. "You were really right."
Su Yu shrugged.