Those flawless light-blue eyes made Hermione feel as if she were staring into the wide, clear surface of the sea. For a moment, the confidence she had carried into the compartment faltered, and her voice dropped without her noticing.
A faint blush rose on her face, and even the tips of her ears began to feel warm. She had never seen a boy who looked that good before, and the sudden realisation left her strangely embarrassed.
"We're all first-years at Hogwarts," Ron cut in, sounding oddly proud, as if he had been the one to perform the magic. "And the Summoning Charm Tyler just used is something students don't usually learn until third year."
"Third year?" Hermione turned at once, surprise overcoming her embarrassment. "Then how do you already know a spell from third year?"
"My parents were wizards," Tyler said calmly. "They were both Hogwarts students, so is it strange that I know a few spells ahead of time?"
He sat back slightly, his tone easy rather than boastful. "Before Hogwarts was founded, young witches and wizards were taught at home. For many spells, as long as you have enough magic, understand the incantation, and know what you want to achieve, you can cast them with practice."
Harry and Hermione both looked a little envious. Harry's parents had been wizards, but he had grown up in the Muggle world and had never been allowed near anything magical until Hagrid arrived.
Hermione's situation was different, but the result was almost the same. Neither of her parents were magical, and before her Hogwarts letter arrived, she had known nothing about the wizarding world beyond what she could learn from books.
"Ron, Neville," Harry asked suddenly, glancing at the two boys. "Your families are magical too, right? What about your magic?"
"Oh, my magic definitely isn't as good as Tyler's," Ron said, his face turning red. Then, perhaps to avoid looking too embarrassed, he mumbled, "But Fred and George taught me a spell not long ago. I could show you, maybe."
"Then show us," Hermione said immediately.
She stared straight at Ron, her expression expectant and a little too sharp. Ron stiffened under her gaze, then cleared his throat as if preparing for a grand performance.
"Watch carefully," Ron said.
He picked up his old wand and pointed it at the grey rat on the table, which was still eating the warmed sandwich with deep concentration. Ron took a breath, waved his wand, and recited in an awkward singsong voice, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow."
Nothing happened.
Scabbers kept eating. The rat did not even look up, as if he had already judged Ron's spell unworthy of attention.
"Are you sure that was a real spell?" Hermione asked.
Ron's face turned bright red. He looked as though he wanted to crawl under the seat and stay there until the train reached Hogwarts.
"Ron, you were obviously tricked by your brothers," Tyler said, unable to help smiling. "In general, magical incantations are short and clear. Take the Wand-Lighting Charm, for example. Lumos."
He raised his wand, and a bright white light bloomed from the tip. It filled the compartment at once, shining so clearly that Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione all had to narrow their eyes.
"Or the Mending Charm," Tyler continued, turning his wand toward Harry's battered old glasses. "Reparo."
A soft flash passed over the round frames. The scratches vanished, the bent parts straightened, and the worn glasses suddenly looked almost new.
"Oh, that's brilliant!" Harry cried.
He took off his glasses and stared at them in delight. They had been taped together and repaired badly so many times that seeing them restored properly felt like a small miracle.
"Most incantations are crisp and direct," Tyler explained, sounding for a moment like a young professor. "The essence of magic is intent. If you want to repair something, you must have a clear and strong desire to repair it. Only then can the magic take effect properly."
Hermione looked at Tyler with open admiration, her eyes almost shining. At the same time, a flash of regret crossed her face because she had not brought a notebook and could not write down everything he had just said.
It was not only Hermione. Harry, Ron, and Neville were also looking at Tyler with a kind of instinctive respect.
People naturally admired strength, and children were even more direct about it. Among their peers, they would always be drawn toward the one who seemed the most capable.
"Fred and George," Ron muttered in frustration. "They tricked me again. I bet they knew it wasn't real and only taught it to me so I'd make a fool of myself."
His face was still red, but beneath the embarrassment was something more familiar and uncomfortable. In the Weasley family, Ron's position had always been awkward. He had several outstanding older brothers ahead of him and a younger sister who received plenty of attention behind him.
He was the one easiest to overlook. From clothes to pets to school things, so much of what he owned had belonged to someone else first, and even his wand was a hand-me-down.
"I think I've got it," Jamie said suddenly.
He had been quiet for so long that everyone almost forgot he was doing something. Now he opened his eyes, and there was a pleased look in them.
"As long as I guide magic into those key magical nodes, the train should accelerate."
"Really?" Tyler asked, looking over at him. "It actually worked?"
"Of course it worked," Jamie said, raising an eyebrow. "Who do you think I am? Did you really expect me to fail at something this simple?"
"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked curiously.
The blond boy had barely spoken since she entered the compartment, and she had assumed he was cold and distant. Now that he had finally opened his mouth, however, what he said was completely beyond her understanding.
"Jamie had an interesting idea," Tyler said with a smile. "We want to try something. Would you all like to reach Hogwarts earlier? At this train's current speed, it will still take hours."
"But how could we get there faster?" Hermione asked.
Harry, Ron, and Neville were just as curious. All four of them turned toward Jamie, clearly waiting for an answer.
"It's simple," Jamie began.
Before he could continue, the compartment door slid open again. This time, three boys stood outside.
The boy in the middle had pale blond hair, a sharp face, and the kind of pale complexion that made him look even more delicate and arrogant. The two boys beside him were much sturdier, both thickset and rather unpleasant-looking, standing on either side of him like a pair of bodyguards.
"Is it true?" the pale blond boy asked, looking straight at Tyler. "People on the train are saying Harry Potter is in this compartment. So, that's you, is it?"
The pale boy introduced them with careless pride, then lifted his chin slightly. "This is Crabbe, this is Goyle, and my name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
.....
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