Sean, scribbling notes nearby: Actually, that's not quite right.
[Your wrist needs to flick and snap. Getting the incantation right is crucial—don't let that 'f' slip into an 's.' It's 'Wingardium Leviosa,' and the 'ga' needs to be long and clear.]
Sean glanced at his notes with a satisfied nod, tucking his quill away. If he was quick, the ink wouldn't dry out, letting him write a bit longer.
"I practiced fifteen times, Hermione. I'm not the worst wizard, am I?" Justin's voice carried a hint of worry. Even his usual optimism faltered in the face of this strange new world of magic.
Sean, still jotting notes: Actually, not quite.
"I don't know," Hermione said, frowning and shaking her head. "I don't have anyone else to compare you to…"
Then her eyes lit up. "Sean, you… you must know the Levitation Charm too, right?"
Caught off guard, Sean nodded. With a flick and snap of his wrist, he said, "Wingar—dium—Leviosa!"
[You have practiced the Levitation Charm at a Beginner Standard. Proficiency +3]
As Sean's incantation rang out, the feather wobbled and floated upward.
"Cool!" Justin exclaimed. Compared to his own charm, which barely lifted the feather for a second, Sean's was noticeably smoother.
"You must've picked it up quick, right? I mean, for someone from a wizarding family," Justin said.
His words made Sean tilt his head in confusion. Seeing the question in Sean's eyes, Justin's own widened in surprise.
"Wait, you're not from a wizarding family? You're Muggle-born?"
He leaned forward, astonished. "So you only started learning magic this summer… and in two months, you mastered something as tough as Transfiguration?"
Sean nodded calmly.
"What's that phrase? Mer… Mer-something?" Justin fumbled.
"Merlin's beard," Hermione whispered.
"Merlin's beard…" Justin echoed, his gaze softening as he looked at Sean. "Hermione and I, we're both Muggle-born too—our parents aren't wizards. That means all three of us in this compartment are Muggle-born. Kind of wild, right? I heard pure-bloods are more common in the wizarding world."
As he spoke, the noise outside grew louder, mixed with a faint clunk-clunk. Oddly, instead of fading like the usual train chatter, it got closer. Soon, the compartment door slid open, and a plump witch in an apron stepped in, her trolley catching everyone's attention.
"Anything off the cart, dears?" she asked, her dimpled smile warm and inviting.
Sean glanced at the dazzling array of sweets but forced himself to look away. He was starving—it had been a long time since he'd eaten. The Hogwarts Express would take all day, from morning to night, but he hadn't been able to bring food. Matron Anna wouldn't let him take so much as a slice of toast.
It'll be fine once I get to Hogwarts, Sean told himself.
"Two of everything," Justin said cheerfully. The witch's smile grew even brighter at his first word.
"Right you are, dear! That's Berty Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, and Licorice Wands… One Galleon and five Sickles, please."
She seemed in high spirits, chatting with Justin about the treats. Hermione, though, looked shocked at the price and opened her mouth to protest, only to be dazzled by the glint of Justin's Galleons.
Justin paid quickly, then blushed as he explained, "This money was meant for Eton, where I was supposed to go. But the very next day, I got my Hogwarts letter. My mum thinks Eton's better than Hogwarts, but come on—learning magic? That's way cooler than becoming a lawyer or some business hotshot."
He stuffed the pile of Galleons back into his trunk.
That's when it clicked for Sean: Justin Finch-Fletchley.
A kind, earnest Hufflepuff. A member of the Duelling Club and Dumbledore's Army. Notably, when he realized he'd wrongly thought Harry was the Heir of Slytherin, he apologized with a handshake—braver and more genuine than others who pretended nothing happened. Most impressively, he'd turned down Eton for Hogwarts.
In Britain, getting into Eton wasn't just about grades—it was for the elite, the aristocratic. Matron Anna loved to taunt the orphans with it: "My aunt's son's classmate's uncle's nephew got into Eton! Ha! You lot of mongrels wouldn't stand a chance."
Her words said it all: Eton was a big deal.
In other words, Justin was Hogwarts' secret millionaire. Pure-blood or not, he was the real deal.
Sean smirked at the thought.
The plump witch trundled off with her cart, muttering about "generous little wizards" as she disappeared.
Back in the compartment, Justin spread the snacks across the table.
"Help yourselves!" he said, his voice muffled behind the mountain of treats. "I can't eat all this. Please, dig in."
"You're not subtle," Hermione teased, grabbing a fruit jelly but keeping her voice low.
"Shh!" Justin gestured for quiet, and both he and Hermione sneaked a glance at Sean.
His clothes were worn, fraying at the sleeves, even slightly torn at the arm. If you ignored his pale, handsome face, he looked like just another unwanted orphan.
"Try a Chocolate Frog," Justin said, holding one out with a tempting grin. "I hear they're a big deal in the wizarding world."
Sean took it quickly. "Thanks," he said softly.
No hardship can break me, but temptation? That's another story.
Sean caved to the sugary lure of capitalism.
"My Chocolate Frog!"
As Justin gleefully unwrapped his own, the frog suddenly leaped, nearly hopping out the window.
"Wingar—dium—Leviosa!"
Sean's calm voice cut through, his wand already moving. The frog floated back into Justin's hands.
"They jump once," Sean explained, then took a small bite of his own frog while flipping through One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.
Outside, the sky slowly darkened.