It was Sean's first time seeing the famous Chocolate Frog cards and, by the looks of it, the first time for the other first-years in compartment number two as well.
Naturally, the conversation quickly shifted to the cards.
"Wow! Devlin Whitehorn!"
"Do you know him?"
"I don't, but I admire what he did."
Hermione raised an eyebrow and snatched the card from Justin's hand.
"Devlin Whitehorn. Survived eating an entire Venomous Tentacula on a dare, but remains purple," she read aloud, before turning to glare at him.
"Idiot."
"All right, you're right," Justin said meekly, not even attempting to argue.
Their attention moved to Hermione's own card.
"Godric Gryffindor," Hermione announced, lifting her chin with a wide smile. "One of the founders of Hogwarts, and one of the Houses is named after him."
"That's brilliant. I read about him in Hogwarts: A History. It said he even left a sword at Hogwarts," Justin said admiringly.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, clearly pleased with the recognition.
While they spoke, the train left London behind, speeding past meadows dotted with cattle and sheep.
For a time, the three of them sat quietly, gazing at the vast grasslands and rolling hills rushing by. Every so often, riders in crisp white clothes flashed past, like pale blossoms scattered across a green canvas.
"I'm telling you, he's really quiet."
Hermione hadn't named anyone, but Justin immediately knew who she meant.
"Not necessarily," he replied with a chuckle, dimples appearing on his cheeks, lending him a warm and friendly air.
"Sean, please take this pumpkin pasty, help me out here."
A slender hand appeared, took the pasty, and a quiet voice followed a moment later from behind a sepia-toned book.
"Thank you."
Justin's dimples deepened.
"My mum always said that truly capable people are quiet. Even if a mountain collapsed before them, they wouldn't flinch. But she also said people like that often aren't very lucky…"
His gaze lingered on Sean's worn jacket and pale, intent face before he continued softly, "She told me I should always make friends like that.
At Samfield School I did. She was right. We promised that even if we went to different schools, we'd never lose touch.
If you're interested, I'd be glad to show you our letters."
As he spoke, Justin opened his suitcase. Amid the required school supplies, neat bundles of letters were stacked, alongside scattered photographs smiling group shots of Justin and his friends.
Hermione leaned closer, surprised. But before she could say anything, a tearful voice interrupted:
"Trevor! Where are you?!"
A round-faced boy stumbled into the compartment, voice trembling as he asked timidly, "Excuse me… have you seen my toad?"
By then, the train had already travelled two-thirds of the way to Scotland.
Sean blinked against the warm, dim lights of the carriage. When he looked up again, he realised he was alone in the compartment.
Watching the sky darken outside, Sean decided it was time to change into his school robes.
But as he closed One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, a folded note slipped out.
[Sean, we went to help a boy named Neville look for his toad. If you want to join us, you can find us in the corridor.]
Sean thought for a moment, then scrawled a few words on the back before setting the note aside.
[The train is about to arrive. Remember to change into your robes.]
Carrying his own neatly folded robes, he opened the compartment door.
The corridor was much noisier than before. It seemed the first-years had grown familiar with one another during the journey, and now their voices carried in an excitable hum.
As Sean walked past one compartment, he caught the sound of an argument.
"Daisies, sweet butter, and sunshine, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."
The childish voice was full of conviction.
"Are you sure that's really a spell?" a girl asked doubtfully.
"Doesn't look like it, does it? I tried a few simple spells at home, just for practice, and they all worked. So what I mean is look at this. Reparo."
Sean pieced it together at once. He was about to continue on when a platinum-haired boy stepped out of the compartment, followed by two heavyset boys who moved like bodyguards.
Sean knew what would come next even before it happened.
Sure enough, a mocking voice rang down the corridor:
"If I were you, Potter, I'd be especially careful. You ought to be more polite, or you'll end up the same as your parents. They didn't know any better either. If you hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys or that oaf Hagrid you'll go the same way."
What a venomous tongue, Sean thought silently, and turned away, heading for the cloakroom without a glance back.
Not long after, a shout echoed from the compartment behind him. Sean could picture the scene without needing to see it: Scabbers sinking his teeth into Goyle, saving Harry from a scuffle.
If memory serves, that might be the only time Peter Pettigrew ever helped Harry, he mused dryly.
When Sean returned to compartment two, the others had gathered again. The train roared at full speed, then began to slow. The scarlet engine chuffed heavily as it pulled into the station.
Outside the window, the sky had faded to a deep purple. Jagged mountains and dense forests stretched as far as the eye could see.
Hermione and Justin pressed close to the glass, eyes bright with uncontainable excitement.
The first-years spilled onto a small, dark platform, lanterns flickering in the night.
At the far end, a giant of a man raised a lamp high. At first glance he looked like one of the monsters from a fairy tale broad, shaggy, and looming.
The autumn chill seeped through the air, but this time Sean didn't shiver. The scratchy, threadbare clothes of the orphanage were gone.
In their place were the plain black robes and underclothes of Hogwarts.
They were warm.
Following Hagrid down a narrow path into the dark forest, the children gasped as the trees opened up.
Hogwarts Castle loomed above the lake, towers and turrets aglow, windows blazing with light, lanterns drifting like fireflies, statues seeming to shift in the shadows.
"Wow !"
The cry rose from a hundred throats, echoing in unison.
Justin's voice was the loudest of all, earning him a sharp glare from Hermione.
"Forgive me, Hermione," Justin whispered sheepishly, "but giving up Eton wasn't easy. Now I know I chose right. Look at that castle those floating torches, those moving statues… If my mum could see this well, I mean, she'd be proud."
Across the lake they went, huddled in small boats that glided across the black water. The castle loomed ever higher, reflected in ripples of silver.
They landed at the boathouse, climbed the winding stone staircase cut into the cliff, and gathered before the towering doors of the Great Hall.
There, Professor McGonagall awaited, her sharp gaze sweeping across them as she explained the Sorting.