Since ancient times, a Wizard who could be called a Magizoologist was always an excellent Veterinarian.
It's like how a physicist must have extensive mathematical knowledge; an old man telling fortunes on a sky bridge must be skilled at applying phone screen protectors; and the bathhouse attendant who scrubs backs can also do cupping…
The original owner of Rolf's body, although not yet a Magizoologist, was born into a family where ancestors dealt with Magical Creatures, so he was naturally influenced by his family's profound knowledge… When Rolf transmigrated, he also inherited these memories.
Therefore, Rolf was indeed a Veterinarian and could treat Trevor's hyperactivity.
But Trevor didn't think he was sick, especially when he heard about surgery. He was so scared that he immediately leaned back and fell to the ground, his paws askew, and he didn't forget to roll his eyes and stick out his tongue, playing dead.
He was just so greedy that he occasionally darted his tongue out to snatch a freeze-dried treat, his cheeks subtly bulging as he secretly swallowed it.
Seeing this comical scene, Shirley couldn't help but laugh.
Hermione rolled her eyes, seemingly disdainful of such "unyielding" gluttony.
Even Neville, his owner, couldn't bear to look; it was truly embarrassing for a toad.
Just then, a sharp whistle sounded, and the Hogwarts Express vibrated, emitting a "woo-woo-woo" tremor, slowly pulling out of Platform 9 3/4.
Rolf turned his head to look out the window; the calm waters of the Thames River flowed in the distance, covered in a faint mist.
The towering London Tower Bridge, silhouetted against the sky, looked like the two masts of a ship, quickly disappearing into the flowing water.
The young man clasped his hands behind his head, looking up at the clear sky after the rain, which seemed to be coated with a beautiful glaze.
The group enjoyed the scenery for a long time, but Malfoy didn't come to bother them. Instead, a sales Witch arrived, pushing a cart laden with food. She pulled open the compartment door and asked with a cheerful smile:
"Children, would you like to buy some food? The train won't stop at any stations along the way and won't arrive at Hogwarts until very late."
Neville stood up, but after feeling his pockets, he quickly sat back down.
Meeting everyone's gaze, he blushed and explained awkwardly, "I… didn't bring any money… My grandma was afraid I'd lose my wallet… so she didn't give me any pocket money."
"…"
"Then how will you eat?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Grandma told me this morning that an owl would deliver lunch," Neville sighed. He only had a pitiful one Knut on him now.
"Huh, wait… Damn it, where's that bronze Knut I secretly hid in my pocket?!"
Watching Neville rummage through his pockets, Rolf and the others exchanged glances… Mrs. Longbottom really knows how to judge people!
"It's okay, Neville, buy some snacks to tide you over; you don't have to pay," Rolf smiled at the three of them. "Pick whatever you like, don't be shy with me."
The young man waved his hand grandly, as if announcing with generosity: Today, he's paying!
Hermione's mood instantly brightened. She joyfully dropped her pen and book and skipped towards the sales Witch's cart.
Ever since she met Rolf, she had been outmaneuvered several times and hadn't regained her composure. Since he was so generous as to treat them, she wouldn't hold back!
Hermione, whose mental abacus was clattering, picked out a large pile of snacks from the cart. After choosing, she even gestured with her eyes to Shirley, telling her not to be polite and to really make Rolf pay.
Shirley didn't get up, her slender ponytail swaying slightly. She said softly, "No, thank you, I brought food."
Rolf also picked out a lot of snacks. From the corner of his eye, he caught Hermione whispering with Shirley and almost burst out laughing. He held back his laughter and asked, "Have you chosen? Not taking any more?"
"Ah… that would be too embarrassing!" Seeing Rolf being so polite, Hermione truly felt a bit embarrassed, but her hands didn't hesitate, and she 'was forced' to pick some pastries for Shirley as well.
She sat back in her chair, satisfied, and eagerly tore open a pumpkin pasty.
Rolf, holding a pile of snacks, tilted his head and looked at Hermione, saying, "You've got your things, now pay up. What are you waiting for?"
The girl, who had already swallowed half a pumpkin pasty, was completely bewildered: "Eh?"
"We had a bet earlier about whether I could find the Platform 9 3/4 entrance… The stake was one Galleon. Did you forget so quickly?"
Rolf, with half a vanilla magic wand dangling from his mouth, showed a 'shocked' and annoying expression:
"No way, no way, you're not trying to renege on a bet, are you? That's really poor sportsmanship?!"
Hermione almost choked on her pasty. She glared at him, "Renege on your big head, you ghost!"
"Then pay up," Rolf said, sitting on the bench with his legs crossed, winking at her as if to say:
Miss Granger, you wouldn't want everyone to know about your embarrassing moment outside the platform, would you…
This undoubtedly hit Hermione's weak spot. She was the first to give in, biting her lip and saying, "You're ruthless!"
Neville was dumbfounded. Granger, who seemed difficult to talk to, was so obedient in front of Rolf… Paying when told to?
As expected of the boss I chose!
Hermione quickly pulled a Galleon from her pocket, and the sales Witch cheerfully gave her seven bronze Knuts in change: "Thank you for your patronage!"
Buying so much food for less than one Galleon, the Magical world truly offered good value for money. It's worth noting that, according to the exchange rate, one Galleon was only about five pounds.
Shirley was struggling with her "food." The girl hadn't lied; she did bring lunch, but what she called lunch was actually just a few meager slices of bread in a clean bamboo bento box.
The bread was incredibly hard. She took a big gulp of water before managing to swallow it. When she looked up, she found the handsome young man looking at her.
Shirley, for the first time, felt a little embarrassed. She hesitated slightly, then held up the bread in her hand and smiled, "Want some?"
Rolf, hearing this, didn't stand on ceremony. He picked up a piece of bread from the bamboo bento box and chewed it carefully, then placed a pile of snacks on the ponytail girl's faded denim jeans.
Shirley hastily caught the food. Just as she was about to refuse, Hermione also shared half of her snacks with her.
She said indignantly, "Don't be polite. If you don't eat it, someone else will finish it all. Don't let him benefit!"
Hermione said this while glaring at Rolf, who was slowly unwrapping a Chocolate Frog… It was all her money!
Shirley was a bit flustered but couldn't refuse, as her "lunch" had been divided between Rolf and Hermione.
Rolf ignored Hermione's fierce glare. He glanced at his watch and asked, "What about you, Neville? It's already half past twelve. Your grandma wouldn't have forgotten to send you food, would she?"
Neville strained his neck, peering out the window, hoping to see an owl delivering "takeout," but unfortunately, he didn't even see a feather.
He mumbled and fumbled, finally scratching his head and saying, "It's really possible. Last time she went to a Professor Dumbledore study group, she said she'd bring me food, but then she forgot."
"Professor Dumbledore study group?" Hermione exclaimed, asking, "What's that?"
Shirley, biting into a glistening pink coconut ice pop, also pricked up her ears curiously.
"It's a club made up of old Witches with an average age of seventy-five," Rolf explained.
"They're all 'die-hard' female fans of Professor Dumbledore. My great-aunt Queenie is the president of the American branch, and she's ninety years old."
"…"
"Come on, Neville, have a Chocolate Frog," Rolf said, sharing some more snacks with him, chuckling. "Anyway, someone else is paying, so why not eat?"
Hermione's face stiffened. She took a fierce bite of the bread Shirley had brought, but she clearly underestimated its hardness, hitting two front teeth so hard that tears almost fell.
Someone let out a faint laugh, and the girl immediately looked up, initiating a Death Gaze, especially staring at Rolf, as if to say that if he dared to laugh, she would smash his head.
Rolf pinched his thigh, desperately trying not to laugh out loud… He couldn't laugh; if he laughed now, he'd be dead!
He was a professional… No matter how funny it was, he wouldn't laugh… Probably… right?