Section 6
Sean saw the so-called Chocolate Frog Cards for the first time, and naturally, the young wizards in Compartment Number Two were seeing them for the first time as well.
As expected, the conversation quickly shifted to the cards.
"Wow! Devlin Whitehorn!"
"You know him?"
"I don't, but I really admire what he did."
Hermione raised her eyebrows as she took the card from Justin's hand.
"Devlin Whitehorn," she read aloud.
"Survived eating an entire Venomous Tentacula on a dare, though he remained purple afterward."
When Hermione finished reading, she turned and shot Justin a sharp glare.
"Idiot."
"All right, all right, you're right," Justin admitted without protest.
Their attention then turned to Hermione's card.
"Godric Gryffindor."
Hermione lifted her chin, a wide and unmistakably proud smile spreading across her face.
"One of the founders of Hogwarts. One of the four houses is named after him."
"That's amazing," Justin said with genuine admiration. "I read about him in Hogwarts: A History. It mentioned that he left a sword behind at Hogwarts."
Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly pleased by his words.
While they were talking, the train had already left London far behind. Outside the window, vast pastures rolled past, dotted with cattle and sheep. Occasionally, they caught sight of riders on horseback, dressed in white riding outfits, their figures resembling pale flowers set against an oil-painted landscape.
For a while, neither of them spoke. They simply watched the scenery flash by.
"I have to say," Hermione said at last, "he's really quiet."
She didn't need to mention a name. Justin knew exactly who she meant.
"Not necessarily," Justin replied with a gentle smile. Dimples appeared on his cheeks, making him look especially warm and reassuring.
"Sean, could you help me out and take care of this pumpkin pasty?"
A slender hand reached out from behind a thick, reddish-brown book.
"Thanks."
The voice came a few seconds later, still muffled by the book.
Justin's dimples deepened.
"My mother always told me that truly capable people are often very quiet," he said thoughtfully.
"Even if a mountain collapsed in front of them, it wouldn't frighten them. But people like that are often… not very lucky."
His gaze drifted to Sean's slightly worn jacket and his focused expression, the implication obvious.
"She said I'd always need friends like that," Justin continued. "That advice helped me find my friends at Samfield School. And she was right. I think we'll be friends for life."
He smiled faintly as he spoke.
"We promised each other that even if we ended up at different schools, we'd stay in touch. If you're interested, I can show you our letters."
As Justin spoke, he opened his suitcase.
Besides the items listed on the school supply list, the most eye-catching things inside were neatly folded stacks of letters. Scattered among them were several photographs showing Justin alongside his friends.
Hermione looked on with mild surprise.
Suddenly, a tearful voice echoed down the corridor.
"Trevor! Where are you?"
A round-faced boy squeezed into the compartment, his expression anxious and timid.
"Excuse me," he asked softly, "have you seen my toad?"
By then, the train had already covered nearly two-thirds of the journey.
The warm, dim lighting of the carriage broke Sean's concentration. He rubbed his eyes and realized he was alone in the compartment.
Outside, the sky had begun to darken.
He was about to change into his wizard robes when he closed One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and noticed a folded note tucked inside.
It read:
Sean, we've gone to help a young wizard named Neville find his toad. If you want to join us, you can find us in the corridor.
Sean thought for a moment, then wrote a brief reply on the back:
The train is about to arrive. Don't forget to change your clothes.
After writing the note, Sean picked up his robes and opened the compartment door.
The corridor was far noisier than before. It seemed that the young wizards had all grown familiar with one another, their conversations now louder and more animated.
As Sean passed one compartment, he overheard an argument inside.
"Daisies, sweet butter, and sunshine—turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"
The voice belonged to a boy, clearly young and brimming with misplaced confidence.
"Are you sure that's actually a spell?" a girl asked skeptically.
"It doesn't look like one."
"Well, I tried a few simple spells at home," the boy insisted. "They all worked. So what I mean is—look at this."
"Reparo."
Sean immediately understood what was happening.
He was about to move on when a platinum-haired boy strode out of the compartment, followed closely by two young wizards who looked like bodyguards.
Without thinking, Sean knew what would come next.
Sure enough, a moment later, a cold, mocking voice rang out.
"If I were you, Potter, I'd be very careful."
The boy paused deliberately.
"You should learn to be more polite, or you'll end up just like your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. And if you keep associating with riffraff like the Weasley family or Hagrid, it'll rub off on you."
What a venomous tongue.
Sean silently made his judgment and turned toward the cloakroom without looking back.
From the tense compartment behind him, a loud shout soon followed.
Sean could easily guess what had happened. Scabbers must have bitten Goyle, getting Harry out of trouble.
If he remembered correctly, this was probably the only time Peter Pettigrew ever truly helped Harry.
By the time Compartment Number Two was filled with young wizards once more, the rumbling of the train had reached its peak. The scarlet steam engine gradually slowed.
Outside the window, beneath a deep purple sky, endless stretches of mountains and forests spread into the distance.
Hermione and Justin's eyes shone with uncontrollable excitement.
The three of them disembarked from the Hogwarts Express and stepped onto a small, dark platform.
In the distance, a giant holding a lantern stood waiting. At first glance, he looked like something straight out of a fairy tale—one of those child-eating monsters used to frighten children into behaving.
The night air was cold.
Yet Sean did not shiver this time.
The clothes he wore were no longer donated, torn, or covered in pills. Instead, he was dressed in plain Hogwarts robes and warm inner garments.
They were comfortable. They were warm.
As they followed Hagrid through the forest and finally caught sight of Hogwarts Castle, every young wizard let out a collective gasp.
"Wow!"
Justin's voice was the loudest of all, earning him several sharp glares from Hermione.
"Forgive me, Hermione," Justin said sheepishly.
"Giving up Eton College wasn't an easy decision. But now I know I was right."
He gestured excitedly.
"Look at this castle. The floating lights. The moving statues. If my mother could see this—well, I mean, she'd be proud of me."
After crossing the Black Lake in small boats, entering the boathouse, and climbing the stone steps carved into the cliff, the young wizards finally gathered before the doors of the Great Hall.
There, they listened intently as Professor McGonagall explained the Sorting Ceremony.
The night at Hogwarts had truly begun.