*Bang—*

*Bang—*

Muffled thuds echoed continuously.

Under the table, Aemon kept kicking Abel, silently begging him to help smooth things over.

Abel glanced at Dawn sitting beside him, looking a bit troubled. But faced with Aemon’s increasingly glaring eyes, he hesitated for a long moment before clearing his throat and saying,

“Hermione… uh, may I call you that? Why don’t you come in and sit for a bit? Standing at the door must be tiring.”

Nicely done! Aemon raised his eyebrows in approval, thinking that maybe Abel’s inability to refuse people wasn’t entirely a bad thing.

Hermione glanced once more at Dawn’s toad, torn between staying and leaving. She hesitated, saying,

“But… I still have to help Neville find his pet—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Aemon Carter quickly interrupted, “Like I said, there’s a bond between a pet and its owner. Don’t worry, it won’t really get lost.”

He smiled warmly, flashing a gentlemanly grin.

“And besides, you’re sweating. Why not sit down and have a rest?”

Hermione thought it over. She was indeed feeling a little tired.

Besides, these people seemed knowledgeable and decent, a far better experience than the compartment she had just left, the one with Harry Potter.

She thought of that red-haired boy who had stubbornly refused to admit his spell had failed… what was his name again? Ron Weasley?

“Alright then, but I can only stay for ten minutes. Before the train arrives, I still need to search the remaining compartments.”

“Oh, such a kind-hearted young lady!” Aemon exclaimed in admiration. “A character as bright as the sun! Those cold and unfriendly folks should be ashamed of themselves!”

“Uh…” Hermione flushed at the unexpected compliment, murmuring, “Thank you.”

…..

The compartment had two rows of seats with a fixed long table in the middle.

Aemon and Abel sat across from each other by the windows, Dawn next to Abel, and Hermione across from Dawn.

“This toad is so big, much larger than the ones I’ve seen before,” Hermione remarked, noticing the caged toad again as she sat down.

She thought of Neville and asked Dawn, “Do you really like this kind of animal? Or… is it common at Hogwarts to keep toads as pets?”

She rubbed her arms, uneasy at the sight of the toad’s warty skin. It felt rude, but compared to this ugly creature, she thought a fluffy cat would be infinitely better.

Perhaps after a couple of years, once she was more settled at Hogwarts, she would buy a cat as a pet.

“Oh, come now! How could that be?” Aemon drawled, quickly jumping in before Dawn could answer.

“Only… strange people would enjoy keeping a toad as a pet!”

He paused, restraining himself from saying “freak” outright. As much as he disliked the person involved, he couldn’t bring himself to use such a harsh word.

“Strange people?” Hermione looked uncertainly at Dawn.

Her keen intuition sensed that the atmosphere in the compartment wasn’t as harmonious as she had first thought.

Across the table, Abel rubbed his forehead and gave her an apologetic smile.

At that moment—

“It’s because toads are used for potion testing,” Dawn finally spoke, his palm propping up his cheek.

“Potion testing?” Hermione blinked, her curiosity about new knowledge outweighing her discomfort.

“You mean… potions?”

“Exactly,” Dawn said, his elbow resting against the table.

“Toads have a high tolerance to poison. If they ingest a toxic substance, they can rapidly expel it through their skin without sustaining too much damage.”

“Moreover, the amount of toxin will cause their skin to secrete different colors of slime. According to the ‘History of Potion Development,’ if the secretion turns purple or black, it means the toxin would be fatal to wizards.”

Hermione quickly committed this information to memory, silently repeating the book’s title to herself.

“So… you keep a toad because you want to become a master of potions?” she asked eagerly.

She had read the first-year potions textbook and knew the effects of potions were usually well-documented. Testing, she thought, would only be necessary for newly invented ones.

In her mind, only a potions master could create new formulas.

But Dawn smiled and shook his head.

“A master of potions? No, you misunderstood.”

“You don’t necessarily need a brand-new potion to require testing. Even failed brews in school can be tested using toads.”

Hermione froze. “But… if the potion failed, why would you still need to test its effects?”

“Ah, well… have you read ‘The Fortunate Wizard’?” Dawn tapped his cheek with a finger, yawning lazily.

“It’s a book written 130 years ago by Edmund Sterlingfell. It discusses the many accidental discoveries in the wizarding world.”

“In the potion section, it explains that the potion used to heal broken bones—Skele-Gro—was created by accident during a failed attempt at brewing Dittany Essence.”

Hermione was at a loss for words.

The boy before her spoke fluently, citing books and facts effortlessly, fitting perfectly into the image of a brilliant young wizard she had imagined.

Hermione felt a strange pressure bearing down on her. It was frustrating, but even more than that, it ignited a competitive spirit within her.

She gripped her wand tightly, vowing that once they got to school, she would work even harder to catch up.

Meanwhile, Aemon seized a lull in the conversation to sneer at Dawn.

“Hmph! So you can talk like a normal person after all! I thought you’d always be stuck in that pretentious, disgusting attitude!”

“Ah, I just find it amusing,” Dawn replied, his crimson eyes sliding toward Aemon with a lazy, mocking expression. “Watching a self-important clown jump around, getting smug over insignificant tricks… even I can’t help but be entertained.”

His voice dripped with sharpness, each word piercing.

“And honestly,” Dawn continued with a false note of concern, “with those pathetic tricks you’re so proud of, getting into Slytherin might be a bit of a stretch.”

“I…” Aemon was caught off guard, glancing awkwardly at the confused Hermione.

His face burned with shame, but after struggling for a long moment, he could only mutter, “I never planned to go to Slytherin anyway!”

“Oh? Then where do you intend to go?” Dawn pressed on.

“You lack the honesty of a Hufflepuff, the wisdom of a Ravenclaw… As for Gryffindor—hmm, does petty scheming count as bravery?”

“You—!” Aemon choked again.

He found Dawn’s face more and more intolerable and regretted not calling him a freak earlier when he had the chance.

“You— you have no right to say I’m not smart!”

“Oh?” Dawn’s red eyes glinted in amusement. “So you want to get into Ravenclaw?”

He leaned back against the chair, looking even more aloof. “Earlier, you told Miss Granger here that there’s some mysterious bond between pets and their owners, right?”

He laughed coldly.

“That myth was debunked in 1721, in the book ‘Wizards and Their Animal Companions.’ I didn’t expect people still believed it.”

“Whether you were misled by your father or whether you’re spreading false information without verifying it, either way, it proves you’re not fit for Ravenclaw.”

Aemon flushed red, humiliated and furious that Dawn had brought up his father.

He snapped back without thinking,

“You’re making that up! And that book could be wrong too!”

“Hah! Are you saying four of the greatest magical creature scholars published a falsehood, and you’re the only one who’s right? That’s rich!”

Dawn clapped lightly, mockingly.

“Of course, you can challenge it. I agree there’s no absolute authority… but at the very least, you need to provide evidence, right?”

He leaned in slightly, his crimson pupils glimmering with malice.

“Tell me, do you have any?”

Dawn’s wicked nature was on full display, his words relentless, chipping away at Aemon’s already crumbling confidence.

_______________

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