"All right, sit down, both of you. And Miss 'Making a Fuss Over Nothing,' aren't you going to introduce yourself?"
With a wave of his hand, Sorimus shut the compartment door. Then he gave his own introduction first.
"I'm Sorimus Selwyn, and the one sitting beside you is Neville Longbottom."
He tilted his chin slightly, making it clear that it was now her turn.
"I am not Miss 'Making a Fuss Over Nothing.' My name is Hermione Granger."
The little girl wrinkled her nose, clearly very displeased with the nickname Sorimus had given her.
Hermione Granger.
Not exactly a difficult guess, was it?
"All right, I apologize," Sorimus said, with absolutely no sincerity whatsoever.
"How did you do that? The books say wandless magic is a very advanced technique."
Hermione really was Hermione. Even the way she spoke felt distinctly Hermione-like.
"Magic, and time."
Sorimus opened the large, heavy book he had set on the table earlier. He intended to read for a while first. Once the train had been moving for some time, he would have a proper talk with Neville.
"What?"
Hermione had very obviously failed to understand what he meant.
"Sufficient magical power, and an amount of practice time that varies from person to person."
Sorimus continued flipping through the pages.
"Oh, right, Neville, I'll have something to say to you in a little while."
"Huh? What?"
Neville was clearly daydreaming. The moment he heard his name, he jumped in fright.
At the sight of Neville's reaction, Sorimus rolled his eyes.
Neville was a good child. There was no need to question that. He only seemed timid because of what had happened to his parents, and because of the crushing pressure his grandmother placed on him. But once he overcame those shackles wrapped around him, the courage buried deep in his heart would surge forth in a torrent.
Sorimus had decided to help him.
He truly rather liked this slow, harmless little chubby boy.
"Um..."
Hermione hesitated for a moment.
"Is it something I'm not supposed to hear?"
Hearing Sorimus say that he would talk to Neville later, she assumed it was something inconvenient for her to listen in on.
"If so, I can go for a walk."
"You're overthinking it, Miss Granger."
Sorimus, who had been reading with his head lowered, lifted his eyes and glanced at her.
"When I said I'd talk to Neville later, I didn't mean you had to avoid it. It's just that I don't like being interrupted when I'm speaking."
He paused, then raised his head, closed the book, and looked through the glass toward the corridor.
"Because in a moment, a pampered young boy spoiled rotten by his family is going to come to this compartment, and I need to get rid of him first."
The words had barely left his mouth when the compartment door was pulled open.
There were clearly only three people outside, yet somehow it felt as though the whole corridor had been blocked.
"Ah, Sorimus, let me see, and also..."
A pale little face topped with light blond hair appeared in the doorway.
"Draco."
Sorimus remained seated, looking at the boy in the doorway with a warning in his eyes.
Hermione looked at the three boys outside, who nearly filled the corridor, and instantly understood that this was the "pampered young master" Sorimus had been talking about.
"All right, all right."
Draco had obviously understood the warning in Sorimus's gaze.
"I'm going to find Potter. Are you coming?"
"I'm not going, and there's no reason for you to go either."
Sorimus gave Draco another look, then reopened the book he had just closed and went back to reading.
"Potter's in a compartment with a redhead. Just walk forward and you'll see them. With your temperament, you'll definitely end up arguing with them the moment you get there, so honestly..."
"What?! Weasley? You mean Potter is with one of those red-haired Weasleys?"
Draco became agitated at once.
"Ha! I'll make Harry Potter understand that befriending that sort of scum is a mistake. Come on, let's go."
Once the three of them were gone, the corridor became bright again.
"Um... so that was..."
Hermione stood up, preparing to shut the door.
"That's right. Draco Malfoy, a spoiled young master through and through. As for the other two... well, there's no need for you to know them."
Sorimus stopped Hermione from closing the door.
"Leave it open for now. It'll only have to be pulled open again in a bit anyway."
He shrugged.
"By the way, he hasn't been bullying you again, has he, Neville?"
Resting one hand against his chin, Sorimus continued reading.
"N-No, he hasn't."
Neville had one hand clutching his toad and the other gripping his robes. He looked exactly like a child born to be pushed around.
"Honestly, with the way you are now, you still want to get into Gryffindor? Hufflepuff would be more likely."
"Gryffindor? I know that one, it's the best House."
The moment Hermione heard the name Gryffindor, she brightened immediately. She had originally wanted to say something when she heard Draco mention Harry Potter.
"The best? There's no such thing as the best. There are only Houses that suit different people."
Sorimus decided it was time to try and talk some sense into Neville. In the eyes of children who liked to bully others, Neville in his current state was the perfect victim.
"But Dumbledore is from Gryffindor, and he's the greatest wizard."
Miss Fuss-Over-Everything immediately refused to accept that.
"All right then, Miss 'Heard-Something-Somewhere-And-Believed-It-Without-Question,'"
Sorimus had already switched to another nickname for Hermione.
"Leaving Headmaster Dumbledore aside for the moment, how much do you actually know about Hogwarts' classes? The professors who teach Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts are the same for all four Houses. How much you learn, and how well you learn it, depends on the individual, not on the House."
And that was simply the truth.
The educational resources were the same across the board. What sort of student a person became depended entirely on talent and effort. Hogwarts was nothing like the schools in Sorimus's original world, where there were elite classes and ordinary ones. In those schools, the elite classes got the top teachers while the ordinary classes got only average ones. When resources were tilted like that, it made sense to argue that one class was better than another.
But Hogwarts did not divide students up that way.
So claiming that one House was simply the best was nothing more than talking nonsense with a straight face.
Hermione bit her lip, wanting to argue back but unable to figure out how.
In the end, all her thoughts condensed into a single sentence.
"I told you, my name is Hermione Granger. Stop making up nicknames for me."
Just then, the noisy voice of the young master could be heard not far away in the corridor.
"Damn it, damn that Potter, damn that Weasley, I'm going to tell my father!"
Sorimus rolled his eyes and looked at Draco, who was now standing in the doorway again. It seemed leaving the door open earlier had been the correct choice. If Draco had yanked it in his temper, he might well have broken it. It could have been repaired, of course, but that would have been a needless nuisance.
"Merlin, Sorimus, you've no idea what just happened. That Potter actually..."
"All right, all right, I already told you there was no need to go."
Sorimus hurriedly cut off the young boy's rambling. He still had things to do.
"You should go back to your compartment and calm down. If you want to deal with Weasley, there'll be plenty of opportunities once we get to school."
"Huff... huff... right, you're right. Getting angry over a Weasley isn't worth it. Hah... You two, come with me."
Bringing along the two lackeys who had barely made any impression from beginning to end, Draco dashed to Sorimus's compartment, stopped long enough to pant twice, then hurried right back to his own.
"At last, some peace and quiet."
Sorimus waved his hand and shut the door. With his left hand, he drew out his wand, lowered the compartment curtain over the glass panel in the door, and added a Locking Charm for good measure. Once he had made certain the compartment was sealed properly, he turned to Neville.
"Now then, Neville. Let's have a proper talk."