Chapter 13
Chapter 13
The scenery beyond the window changed again and again.
Neville yawned and looked at the two future classmates reading opposite him. Then he seemed to remember something and began patting his pockets.
His expression grew steadily more panicked, his face steadily paler.
“What’s wrong, Neville?” Suer asked after noticing.
Hermione lifted her head.
“I…” Sweat broke out on Neville’s forehead, and his voice trembled close to tears. “My Trevor. He’s gone.”
“Who is Trevor?” Hermione asked.
“Trevor is my toad. My gran gave him to me.”
Neville jumped anxiously to his feet.
“I have to find him.”
“But–”
Before Hermione could finish, Neville rushed out of the compartment.
“Your toad is sitting on your head…” she said to the empty doorway.
Suer and Hermione exchanged a look.
Hopefully Neville would soon realise that his toad had never actually left him.
Roughly ten minutes passed, and Neville did not return.
Hermione sprang to her feet.
“I think we should go look for him.”
Suer nodded and followed her into the corridor.
They passed several compartments without finding Neville. Then, as they approached another, they heard a loud argument inside.
“Say that again!”
Hermione glanced at Suer, silently asking whether they should investigate. Neville might be in there.
Suer nodded. He had already guessed what was probably happening.
Inside, a blond boy flanked by two thickset, rather dim-looking companions was confronting a shabbily dressed boy. A red-haired, freckled boy was there as well.
The redhead looked furious. His face had gone so red that his freckles seemed to dance.
Neville was nowhere to be seen.
“No!” the red-haired boy snapped toward the doorway, keeping his eyes fixed on the blond.
Hermione did not leave. She was curious about the wand in his hand.
Suer noticed it too.
What an ancient-looking wand. Was that silvery hair protruding from the side actually part of its core?
The blond boy sneered.
“Do you want a fight, Weasley? You, raised by a family too poor even to afford meat?”
Good grief. The boy had turned passive-aggressive cruelty into an art form. Listening from behind Hermione, even Suer wanted to hit him.
The boy in round spectacles pressed his lips together.
“Unless you leave right now.”
He was thin, with a thick mop of badly cut hair. A lightning-shaped scar showed faintly beneath his fringe.
*So this is the protagonist?*
Suer raised an eyebrow.
In that case, the blond boy must be Malfoy.
While Suer’s thoughts raced, the confrontation continued.
Malfoy sneered again.
“But we don’t want to leave. We’ve eaten all our food, and it looks as if you still have plenty.”
One of the large boys behind him reached for the sweets on the table.
An earth-shattering scream followed.
He flung one hand into the air and shook it violently. A rat had sunk its teeth into his finger.
The rat was finally thrown free. It struck the window and slid limply down the glass, apparently unconscious.
While Ron cried out and hurried to retrieve it, Malfoy and his two “friends” prepared to leave.
“Move, Mudblood,” Malfoy spat at Hermione.
Hermione did not understand the word, so she stepped aside.
Suer did understand.
“Stop.”
His face darkened.
“What?” Malfoy halted and looked up at him. “Was I wrong?”
Disgust entered his expression as he looked Suer up and down.
“You reek of Mudblood too. You’re a first-year, aren’t you? You’re with her? Then you must be one as well.”
“Apologise.”
Suer drew his wand from behind his back.
“What? You want a fight too?” Malfoy asked when he saw the wand.
“Look, boys. Another one just like Weasley.”
He curled his lip in mockery.
The two hulking idiots behind him obediently burst into laughter.
“Apologise. I will not ask again.”
Suer pulled Hermione behind him.
She looked frightened. In all the years she had known him, this was the first time she had seen him so angry.
“If your family never taught you basic manners, I won’t mind teaching you on their behalf.”
Malfoy answered with a scoff. He turned to say something to his “friends,” only to see terror in their eyes.
He spun back around.
A beam of icy blue light struck him head-on.
“Immobulus!”
The Freezing Charm hit with full force.
Malfoy had no time to protest that decent people gave warning before casting. Young wizards these days had no honor at all.
A little coolness might have been welcome in summer, but magical cold and air-conditioning were entirely different things.
Frost instantly coated every exposed strand of Malfoy’s hair. His rigid body toppled backward.
His two companions screamed and reached out to catch him, then screamed again and let go.
Too cold!
Despair filled Malfoy’s eyes as he hit the floor. Fortunately, the Hogwarts Express had thick carpeting, sparing him a second injury.
Ron had already noticed what was happening in the doorway. His laughter exploded through the suddenly quiet compartment, enormously loud.
Suer shifted his wand in Ron’s direction, his expression darkening further.
Malfoy’s two friends shrieked and fled. After several steps, one hesitated, rushed back, seized Malfoy, and dragged him away.
Unable to move, Malfoy shed tears of humiliation.
“Brilliant!” Ron shouted from inside.
Suer lowered his wand and glared viciously at him.
He had not forgotten Ron shouting at Hermione earlier. Suer himself had never shouted at her, so who did this boy think he was?
Ron fell silent at once.
“Suer? Hermione? What are you doing here?”
Neville’s voice came from behind them.
“Nothing. Did you find your toad?” Suer asked, not a trace of anger left in his tone.
“No. I asked loads of people, but no one has seen Trevor.” Neville lowered his head miserably. “I think I lost him.”
Hermione gave him a strange look.
“Perhaps you’ll see him when you return to the compartment,” Suer suggested.
“I hope so.” Neville sounded heartbroken. “Gran is definitely going to send me a Howler.”
“Let’s go back, Neville,” Hermione comforted him. “I’m sure it isn’t as bad as you think.”
Neville nodded mournfully. His imagination had already supplied ten thousand possible deaths for Trevor.
The more he thought, the more miserable he became. As soon as they reached the compartment, he collapsed over the table and began to sob.
Hermione could never bear to watch anyone cry. She was about to explain that the toad had been sitting on his head the entire time.
“Croak.”
As Neville bent forward, Trevor hopped from his head onto the table.
“Trevor?!”
Through tear-filled eyes, Neville saw a complete and very much living Trevor. He scooped the toad up in both hands, his face lighting with joy.
“I’m certain everyone in the other compartments saw Trevor on Neville’s head,” Hermione whispered to Suer. “Not one of them told him.”
Suer nodded.
Truly, public morals were declining with every passing day.