Hearing Neville raise this question, Hermione shot him an approving glance.
She had been wanting to ask the exact same thing herself, so this saved her the trouble.
“A diviner never easily peers into their own fate,” Silan replied, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture.
“Therefore, I haven’t the slightest clue which house I’ll be sorted into.” “You’re so clever, perhaps you’ll end up in Ravenclaw…” Neville got halfway through his sentence when he suddenly noticed Miss Granger’s expression across from him shift drastically.
He hurriedly pivoted his words mid-sentence, “…though, of course, you could very well go to Gryffindor too.” Only then did Hermione’s gaze soften back to normal.
She simply didn’t want to be separated from Silan.
Neville let out a quiet sigh of relief in his mind.
He didn’t think himself clever for catching on; it was just that Hermione’s protective glare was a bit too terrifying.
“Honestly, any house will do,” Silan said.
“Just being able to attend Hogwarts is a massive stroke of luck for me.” “It definitely won’t be Slytherin,” Hermione reasoned with an air of absolute gravity.
“You’re far too kind and friendly.
You’re nothing like those people.” As she spoke, she darted a brief glance out toward the corridor, as if still looking for the arrogant students who had spoken so crudely earlier.
“Spot on,” Neville chimed in securely.
In his eyes, although Silan wore rather tattered clothes, he was incredibly warm and gentle, always carrying an aura that made people feel safe.
Furthermore, he possessed such a pleasant way with words that one couldn’t help but believe him.
A wizard this polite, refined, and genuinely kind-hearted was a rarity, even among the ancient, sacred pureblood families.
Therefore, there was absolutely no way he would be sorted into Slytherin.
By this time, the train was racing past winding rivers and rolling hills carpeted in vibrant green grass.
The bright orange sun looked like a cooked egg yolk, trembling slightly as the horizon swallowed it up bite by bite.
The train was nearing its destination.
“We should change into our school robes.
Ladies first.” Silan and Neville stepped out into the corridor, standing with their backs against the compartment door, effectively using their bodies to block the glass panels.
A few minutes later, Hermione completed her change and slid the door open.
“Your turn.” Neville and Silan walked back inside and began changing.
To call it “changing” was a bit of an understatement; it was really just throwing their plain black robes over their clothes.
Although the standard uniform package included a black pointed hat, students rarely ever wore them on casual occasions.
The moment they finished pulling on their robes, Neville began frantically spinning around the compartment.
“Trevor’s gone again!
He’s gone!” “I’ve lost him again!
He’s always trying to run away from me.” Neville looked so distressed he was practically on the verge of tears.
“Don’t panic.
I guarantee you’ll find him at Hogwarts,” Silan offered, feeling a wave of distinct helplessness.
Trevor truly was an absolute concept of a toad–vanishing into thin air in the blink of an eye.
If Silan remembered correctly, from here on out, Neville was either actively looking for Trevor or well on his way to looking for him.
If this liberty-loving toad could somehow share even a fraction of its audacious bravery with its master, Neville would likely be the most fearless student in all of Gryffindor.
“Really?” “Of course.
I’ve already seen it manifest in a divination, so you can rest easy.” [Silver-Tongued: Proficiency +1] Naturally, there hadn’t been any divination.
Silan simply remembered that Trevor would eventually turn up on the boats heading toward the castle.
As for how the creature managed it, he had no idea; one could only conclude that although Trevor spent his entire life running away, he never truly managed to escape, which was perhaps the tragic fate of a pet toad.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked, poking her small head back inside the compartment.
After Silan briefly explained the situation, Hermione joined him in comforting Neville for a while, which gradually helped him calm down.
“Honestly, Neville, you should prioritize learning the Summoning Charm,” Silan suggested.
“That way, if Trevor goes missing again, you can just summon him directly instead of running around looking for him like this.” Neville wiped the corners of his eyes with the sleeve of his plain black robes.
“I’ll definitely master the Summoning Charm!” While they were talking, a voice echoed throughout the train.
“We will be arriving at Hogwarts in five minutes.
Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be transferred to the school for you separately.” The train slowed down further and further until it finally ground to a halt.
After a long and grueling journey, the young witches and wizards had finally reached their destination.
“Aren’t we getting off?” Neville asked, eyeing a lantern bobbing back and forth out on the platform.
“No rush.
We’ll head down once the crowd thins out a bit,” Silan said calmly.
He had always despised squeezing through tightly packed crowds.
They waited about six or seven minutes before finally stepping off the train and onto a dark, cramped platform.
To be completely honest, Silan found it hard to comprehend.
Given that wizards possessed spells like the Scouring Charm, why did certain things still look so ramshackle, dilapidated, and blanketed in thick layers of dust?
The oil lantern Neville had spotted earlier began floating closer toward them.
As it drew near, the young students finally realized that it wasn’t floating at all.
It was carried by a giant of a man, towering impossibly tall, who was making his way toward them with the lantern dangling from his hand.
“Blimey–” a red-haired boy gasped, staring up at Hagrid in sheer awe.
“Firs’-years!
Firs’-years over here!” Hagrid’s colossal build, paired with his wild, tangled hair and a massive beard that obscured most of his face, made quite a few of the younger students instantly grow tense.
Although Hermione didn’t openly display any fear, she still quietly reached out and snagged a corner of Silan’s robes.
“C’mon, follow me, any more firs’-years?” Hagrid’s booming voice rang out, sounding exceptionally heavy in the stillness of the night.
“Watch yer step, now!
All right, firs’-years, follow me!” Under Hagrid’s guidance, the students stumbled and slipped their way down a steep, narrow path.
To accommodate the first-years, Hagrid maintained a very slow pace; a walk that would normally take him three or four minutes took over twenty minutes tonight.
The students rounded one final bend and, following Hagrid’s reminder that “no more’n four to a boat,” clambered into the small vessels that would take them across to Hogwarts.
Hermione, Silan, Neville, and another classmate they didn’t know ended up sharing the same boat.
Across the mirror-like black lake rose a towering cliffside.
Perched right at its summit was Hogwarts Castle, looking almost as if it had been constructed amidst the clouds, possessing an ethereal, dreamlike beauty.
Under the brilliant glow of the moonlight, the silhouette of the castle loomed into view.
The warm light shimmering from its windows looked like stars scattered across the canvas of the night sky.
A bright lantern rested at the bow of each boat, casting trails of shimmering light across the dark water as the fleet glided forward.
The young students on board looked up at the vast castle towering almost directly over their heads, collectively holding their breath in awe.
Snapping out of her trance, Hermione noticed that Silan was staring intently down at the structure of their small boat.
Feeling rather curious, she asked, “What are you looking at?” “I was just wondering how Hagrid’s boat is maintaining the exact same water displacement as ours, considering how heavy he is.
Could there be some kind of magic woven into the boats themselves?” “Perhaps…
these boats are enchanted alchemical artifacts,” Hermione pondered.
“Taking the boats to Hogwarts is a tradition for new students,” Neville chimed in from the side.
“My gran told me all about it…” While the few of them were admiring the scenery and debating the origins of the small vessels, Hagrid’s booming reminder cut through the air.
“Heads down!” The young witches and wizards all ducked their heads.
The small boats carried them through a dense curtain of ivy that completely veiled the front of the cliff face, gliding along a pitch-black tunnel that led directly into the castle’s subterranean harbor.
Finally, they scraped to a halt against a shoreline composed of gravel and small pebbles.
Once the students clambered ashore, Hagrid went around holding his lantern up high to inspect the empty boats.
“Whose toad is this?” Hagrid bellowed, lifting his light.
“Trevor!” Neville shrieked, sprinting over to Hagrid’s side.
“Thank you, sir.” He then turned and grabbed Silan’s sleeve, clutching Trevor tightly.
“Thank you, Silan.
I thoroughly believe I’m going to be sorted into Gryffindor now.” Chris Nott watched as Neville walked back toward them cradling the toad.
His face twisted into an expression of pure disgust, and he reached out, shoving Neville hard.
“Get lost, you disgusting freak.” “Sorry…” Neville stammered, trembling a little as Silan caught him by the shoulder to steady him.
The boy who had shoved him, however, took an inch and demanded a mile.
“How could a fellow like you ever get sorted into Gryffindor?
You’re a coward.
The Longbottom family has truly gone downhill, haven’t they?” “If I were you, I’d just hop right back on a boat and head home.
Otherwise, you’ll probably end up sorted into toilet-cleaning duty.” Listening to Chris Nott’s relentless mockery, Neville gritted his teeth, his entire face flushing a brilliant crimson.
“Silan’s divination is completely accurate!
I really did find Trevor.
I believe I will absolutely make it into Gryffindor.” The commotion down here quickly drew the attention of the surrounding students.
They crowded around in a tight circle like a pack of rowdy onlookers, their chatter laced with giggles and sharp whistles.
“Oh, really?” Chris followed Neville’s gaze, his eyes landing squarely on Silan.
“So you’re the one playing the mystical charlatan here?” Taking in the sight of Silan’s tattered, secondhand robes, Chris sneered coldly.
“No wonder you’re pulling your little Muggle parlor tricks down here.
Frankly, even the Weasleys look richer than you.” The crowd instantly erupted into a wave of snickers and jeers.
Ron scanned the surrounding crowd, letting out a highly disgruntled huff.
“Even if he’s technically right about us, I really want to punch that bloke right in the jaw.” Harry pulled on Ron’s arm, whispering softly, “Wouldn’t that be breaking school rules?” “We haven’t technically started school yet.” “Fair point,” Harry muttered.
“Go on then.” Before Ron could step forward to throw a punch, however, they heard Silan speak up in an unhurried, measured tone.
“My dear sir, we are all going to be classmates from here on out.
There’s really no need for such harsh words.
If you would be so kind as to offer Mr.
Longbottom an apology, I would be very pleased.” “I couldn’t care less whether you’re pleased or not!
Why on earth should I apologize to him?
Just look at how pathetic and terrified he is–there is zero chance he’ll ever be a Gryffindor.” “What’s all this racket goin’ on here?” Having finished checking the empty boats, Hagrid caught the commotion and came lumbering over, swinging his lantern.
The rowdy young wizards were forced to scatter to either side of the path just to clear a way for his massive frame.
“Nothing at all, sir.
His collar was just a bit dusty.” Silan reached out and lightly patted Chris’s collar.
The movement, however, looked so remarkably like an impending chokehold that it frightened Chris into scrambling back two steps in a panic.
“Right then, stir yer stumps, let’s get movin’,” Hagrid said, squeezing past to lead the crowd from the front.
“Hmph.
Just you wait and see.” Chris snapped his sleeves, turning on his heel to storm off, only for Silan to firmly catch him by the fabric of his sleeve.
“What if Mr.
Longbottom really *is* sorted into Gryffindor?” Silan asked smoothly.
The onlookers crowded right back in, and a few boys who clearly knew Chris began hooting and egging them on at the top of their lungs.
“Go on, Chris Nott!
Name your stakes!” “What are you afraid of him for?!” “Make a wager with him!” Chris glanced warily around at the rowdy crowd before aggressively wrenching his sleeve out of Silan’s grasp.
“If he actually gets sorted into Gryffindor, I’ll apologize to him.
Simple as that.” *Heh, so he’s not entirely stupid,* Silan thought.
*He refuses to take the bait.* “You certainly know how to set conditions,” Silan remarked smoothly.
“An apology was the price tag from a moment ago.
The rates have gone up.” Silan stepped sharply to the side, completely blocking Chris’s path forward.
“If Mr.
Longbottom is sorted into Gryffindor, you will owe me ten Galleons, and you will still offer him a formal apology.” Chris glared at Silan, remaining dead silent.
“Not daring to take the bet, Mr.
Nott?” Silan stepped aside, turning his attention to the surrounding crowd as he announced, “Well, it looks like we have a genuine coward in our midst after all.” The crowd erupted into cheers and wild hoots, the atmosphere instantly turning lighthearted and festive at Chris’s expense.
“I’m not falling for your tricks!
You just wait and see!
Get out of my way!” Chris violently shoved past a few onlookers, spun on his heel, and stormed off into the night.
Silan actually felt a brief pang of disappointment.
He had honestly expected this bloke to act like a brainless, generic villain–losing his temper the second he was provoked and blindly agreeing to the wager.
*To back down so easily…
how utterly boring.* According to Silan’s personal philosophy, money left unmade was money lost.
The young witches and wizards unleashed a chorus of heavy boos directed at Chris’s retreating figure.
“Thank you, Silan,” Neville said quietly, stepping up to Silan’s side.
“The Nott family produced quite a few Death Eaters back in the day, and some of them were captured by my parents.
That’s why he’s always looking for an excuse to cause trouble.
You really need to watch your back around him.” Silan nodded in understanding.
With the entertainment over, the young students turned back around and followed Hagrid as they continued their trek toward Hogwarts Castle.
Hagrid led them up to a set of massive oak front doors.
Raising a colossal fist, he knocked firmly three times against the castle entrance.
The doors swung open instantly.
A brand-new world had just unfolded right before Silan’s eyes.