"Dumbledore?" Harry repeated, staring at the card.
Ron, assuming Harry simply did not know the name, widened his eyes slightly.
"Don't tell me you don't know Dumbledore, mate. He's the greatest wizard in the world."
"Is he?" Harry replied casually, clearly unconvinced.
"If you don't believe me, turn the card over." Ron took it from Harry's hand. "I'll read it to you."
He cleared his throat and read aloud:
"Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts, is widely regarded as the greatest wizard of our age."
"His most notable contributions include: defeating the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, discovering twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his fruitful collaboration with his partner Nicolas Flamel in the field of alchemy…"
At the familiar name, Harry interrupted instinctively.
"Who?"
"Nicolas Flamel," Ron shrugged. "His partner. You know him?"
"No. I mean the one before that." Harry frowned. "Who did he defeat?"
"The Dark wizard, Grindelwald," Ron replied.
The name struck Harry like a silent shock, dragging his thoughts back into the past—to his fifth year at Hogwarts, a century ago.
"Hey, mate," said Gareth, his dorm-mate, dropping into the seat beside him and nudging his elbow. "Did you hear? We're getting a transfer student this year."
"Really?" Harry replied distractedly, lifting his glass of water.
"Yeah. I heard it from my aunt," Gareth scratched his head. "She's the Deputy Headmistress, so her information's always better than ours… but the feast has already started. Why hasn't she arrived yet?"
Before he could finish speaking, the doors of the Great Hall burst open.
Harry turned and saw Professor Fig, looking unusually dishevelled—and beside him stood a girl of striking beauty.
Her blond hair was even more dazzling than Malfoy's, Harry thought.
As if she sensed his gaze, the girl turned and offered him a gentle smile.
That smile—soft as moonlight—caught Harry completely off guard. He choked on his water, hastily wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and managed only a foolish smile in return.
"Oi, snap out of it," Gareth whispered, elbowing him again. "You're staring. Look at Malfoy's face—she'll mock you for this again."
Harry came back to himself and glanced toward the Slytherin table. Cassandra Malfoy was glaring at him with open disdain.
"Slytherin!" announced the Sorting Hat, and enthusiastic applause erupted from all four tables.
By the time Harry realised what was happening, the girl was already approaching him, under Gareth's unmistakably resentful stare.
"Hello. May I sit here?"
"Y-yes," Harry replied, hastily shifting Gareth aside.
That was how Harry met Villanelle—and how a close and important friendship began.
Because of that, no matter what the world might later say, Harry would never believe that Villanelle could become a Dark witch.
"How could she possibly be a Dark witch…?"
Ron was chewing on a sweet, watching him.
"Her? No, mate. Grindelwald was a man, wasn't he? His name was… ah, right—Gellert Grindelwald. I've heard his relationship with Dumbledore was rather complicated."
"Oh…" Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
So it was Gellert.
He remembered at once: he had met Gellert during Christmas in his fifth year, when Villanelle had invited him to spend the holidays in Nurmengard, in Austria-Hungary. At the time, Gellert had only been her younger brother—eight years old, skinny, bad-tempered, with hair sticking up like a cockatoo's crest.
That boy… a Dark wizard?
Dark or not, he had certainly had an innocent-looking face.
"You really ought to brush up on your magical history," Ron sighed. "You're the Chosen One—this won't do."
"You're right," Harry agreed, nodding.
At that moment, there was a knock on the compartment door.
A plump boy with tearful eyes asked in a trembling voice,
"Excuse me… have you seen my toad?"
When both of them shook their heads, the boy burst into tears.
"He always tries to escape from me… and I've lost him again…"
"Don't worry," Ron said encouragingly. "You'll probably find him soon."
But the boy ran off without another word.
"If I'd bought a toad, I'd have got rid of it ages ago," Ron shrugged. "Lucky I brought Scabbers. He's old, lazy, and sleeps like he's dead, but he's been with me for years. To be honest… I quite like him."
Harry blinked, surprised by his new friend's peculiar fondness for sleeping with a rat.
Still, he decided to respect Ron's little eccentricity; after all, sleeping with a pet was not that strange.
As long as it wasn't an owl.
"Yesterday Fred, George, and I learned a spell that turns this rat yellow," Ron said, pulling his wand from his pocket. "I want to try it."
"That's Charlie's old wand, isn't it?" Harry asked.
"Yeah… Charlie's old wand," Ron replied, a little awkwardly.
Harry immediately recalled Ollivander's words: the wand chooses the wizard.
Would that wand truly work for Ron?
Before he could say anything, the compartment door opened again.
"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost one."
Harry recognised the voice at once.
"Hermione?"
"Harry!" Hermione beamed. "I was looking for you, but I saw Neville crying and wanted to help. Are you practising magic? I learned a few spells at home, but they weren't very effective…"
The speed of her speech left Ron completely stunned.
Hermione sat down beside Harry as though they were old friends, and Harry casually handed her a packet of Every Flavour Beans.
Ron cleared his throat and raised his wand.
"Let me try… sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow…"
Nothing happened.
Hermione frowned.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?"
Ron lowered his wand, embarrassed. Once again, he had been tricked by the twins.
Hermione then turned to Harry.
"And you?"
"What was that boy's name again?" Harry asked.
"Neville," Hermione replied.
Harry drew his wand and pointed it at the door.
"Neville's toad, come here—"
Hermione pressed a hand to her forehead.
She truly had not expected that, in the same compartment, one person would be chanting a fake spell… and another would be trying to summon a toad as though it were a dog.
"Do you honestly think a toad is going to fly in like that?" she asked helplessly.
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