After Harry boarded the train, he soon ran into the Weasley twins again. To his surprise, they immediately called out his name, "Harry Potter!"
Even more startling was their keen interest in the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Just last month, Vison had told Harry the absurd story about how he defeated Lord Voldemort as a baby. Harry still remembered Vison's words: "If someone recognizes you, don't be surprised — you're a celebrity."
At the time, Harry had thought Vison was joking. But now, it was clear that it wasn't a joke at all. He really was famous, far more than he had ever imagined. Yet Harry felt resistant, even disgusted, by the title of "savior." He had no desire for fame or the constant attention that came with it. Vison had warned him: the more attention you get, the more trouble follows.
...
Meanwhile, when Harry found a carriage and settled in, Vison also boarded the train. He made his way toward the front. Just before the prefects' carriage, there was an extra compartment — a lounge for the train staff. This was where the Hogwarts Express driver and the trolley witch took their breaks.
Vison had ridden this train many times over the years, yet he had never once seen the driver. This time was no different. When he opened the door, only the familiar, plump witch was inside. She was the same sales witch who had been pushing her trolley of sweets since he first started at Hogwarts.
At that moment, she was busily arranging her cart, which was stacked with candies of every kind. Vison spotted a box among them that kept jumping — Chocolate Frogs, no doubt. He had always been fond of chocolate, though he drew the line at cockroach clusters.
When Vison entered, the witch jumped slightly in surprise.
"Excuse me," Eldrein Vissen said, offering a polite nod. "Is the driver here?"
"He's up front. The train is about to leave," she answered, then gave Vissen a curious look. "Are you a student's parent? Parents aren't allowed on board."
Vissen shook his head. "I'm a professor."
Her frown deepened as she studied him from head to toe and back again. Finally, recognition seemed to spark in her eyes.
"Eldrein Vissen? If I recall correctly..."
She shook her head with a wistful smile. "I used to remember every student's face. Ah, I'm getting old. It's only been a few years, and my memory's already fading."
"Your memory is excellent, madam," Vissen replied, genuinely impressed. It had been years since he'd been a student, yet she still remembered.
She chuckled. "You spent plenty of Galleons at my cart, that's why I remember. A big customer leaves an impression. Not every student has the pocket money to buy out a whole trolley of sweets. And now you're a professor at Hogwarts!"
Vissen smiled at the memory. Back in his Hufflepuff days, he would often buy candies in bulk and share them with his housemates. He had simply enjoyed the act of giving.
"So, may I borrow the lounge for a while?" Vissen asked.
The sales witch blinked, surprised, but nodded. "Of course, Professor, if you buy something first."
"Then I'll take this," Vissen said, picking up a box of Chocolate Frogs from the top of the cart.
Just then, the train whistle blew outside, signaling departure.
"Ah, I must go," the witch said as she prepared to push her cart out. "Enjoy your rest, Professor Vissen."
After she left, Vissen was alone in the lounge. He leaned back in his seat, tore open the Chocolate Frog box, and found the usual collectible card inside.
As expected, it was Dumbledore again. Vissen had long suspected that the manufacturer had an endless fondness for Dumbledore — he seemed to get that card every time.
With a faint smile, Vissen pocketed the card and gazed out at the passing scenery. By the time the sales witch returned, Vissen had already dozed off, his breathing deep and steady.
...
Meanwhile, further back in the train, a significant meeting was taking place. Harry, Ron, and Hermione — the trio — had crossed paths for the first time.
Ron was eager to impress and began showing Harry and Hermione some magic.
Harry watched with curiosity. What kind of spell would Ron cast? Maybe the Levitation Charm? Lumos? Or perhaps Reparo?
But as Ron drew his wand, he recited an unfamiliar incantation.
"Daisy, buttercup, and sunshine, turn this silly fat rat yellow."
...Silence.
Harry blinked in confusion. What sort of charm was that? He had never read about it. The words — daisy, buttercup, and sunshine — sounded more like the name of a flower shop than a spell.
Unsurprisingly, the spell fizzled out with no effect. Ron's pet rat remained stubbornly gray.
Hermione, however, took the opportunity to point out that she had practiced several spells at home — and they all worked. That statement made Harry reflect. Perhaps not every new student knew magic yet. Maybe he was stronger than he realized?
After all, he had already gone through the entire "Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1" over the summer. While he wasn't perfect with every spell, he could at least manage most of them.
Vison's words echoed in his mind: "Your spells are flashy, Harry, but don't get complacent."
Still, Harry couldn't deny a small flicker of pride.
The conversation took another turn when Hermione casually informed him that his name appeared in numerous books: Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of Dark Magic, Important Magical Events of the Twentieth Century.
That revelation struck Harry like a blow. He wasn't just famous — he was written into history, alongside figures long dead.
It was a chilling thought.
...
When Hermione left their compartment, Ron immediately voiced his displeasure.
"No matter which house I'm sorted into, I hope I'm not stuck with her," he grumbled.
Harry found himself agreeing. He, too, felt uneasy around the girl named Hermione Granger. There was something about her — the way she held her chin high, the confident, slightly condescending tone — that made him uncomfortable.
It wasn't jealousy. Harry had learned a great deal over the summer but hadn't once bragged about his knowledge to Ron.
Still, he couldn't deny that Hermione was undeniably gifted. Her claim that she had memorized all the textbooks stunned him.
Is that even humanly possible? he wondered.
It fit perfectly with his mental image of a model student — brilliant, but perhaps too eager to show it.
...
Outside, the train thundered northward, carrying all of them toward a new chapter of their lives. Unbeknownst to Harry, Ron, Hermione — and even Eldrein Vissen — their destinies were about to intertwine in ways none of them could yet imagine.
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