“To be able to cast such a perfect spell relying entirely on knowledge gained from books… you are a very exceptional young witch,” Vincent said.
Hearing such direct praise, Hermione’s face flushed for a brief moment, but she held her head high and accepted Vincent’s compliment with confidence.
Harry stared in astonishment, his eyes wide.
“Whoa—Hermione, is someone in your family a wizard too? That trick was incredible!”
Harry had never even thought of comparing himself to Vincent.
That guy was a genius in a league of his own—after getting his wand, he had taught himself simple spells without any instruction at all.
He had always assumed Vincent was just uniquely gifted, never expecting a strange young witch on the Hogwarts Express to possess such impressive ability as well.
Hermione shook her head.
“No, I’m the only witch in my family. My father is a dentist. When I received my acceptance letter from Hogwarts, my parents thought I’d gotten something strange. But since the letter was delivered by an owl, they brought me to Diagon Alley anyway and were willing to send me to Hogwarts to study.”
“They must really love you,” Harry said, a touch of envy lingering in his eyes.
Ron immediately steered the conversation away: “You really are amazing! So, have you thought about which House you want to go to?”
No one had answered that question earlier.
Ron hoped they would all find the right House for themselves, and it would be even better if they could join Gryffindor like him.
“I’ve read about the four Houses in books,” Hermione said, “but I haven’t decided where I’ll end up yet. The books don’t record how new students are sorted into Houses, either.”
Ron looked eagerly at Harry.
“What about you, Harry? If you had to choose, where do you think you’d go?”
Harry shrugged.
“I’m not really sure. Gryffindor, Slytherin… who knows?”
At the mention of Slytherin, Ron’s face suddenly turned odd, and he wrinkled his nose.
“No, Harry, don’t go to Slytherin. That’s a breeding ground for dark wizards. The pure-bloods are horribly arrogant and extremely exclusive. If you ask me, Gryffindor is the best—brave and warmhearted.”
From Ron’s expression alone, it was clear he didn’t have a single drop of goodwill toward Slytherin.
“It seems Ron feels Slytherin isn’t a particularly good choice,” Vincent said.
“Perhaps Ravenclaw then? Isn’t it said that young wizards who love learning go there? The House has a strong academic atmosphere.”
Listening to Ron and Vincent, Harry knitted his brows in thought.
His knowledge of Hogwarts came solely from what Ron and Vincent had said, and Hermione across from him had remained quiet.
Harry decided to hear what the only lady present thought first.
“Hermione, what do you think? Which place would suit you better?”
A thoughtful expression appeared on the bushy-haired young witch’s face.
“Based on what Vincent said, maybe Ravenclaw would suit me? But we’ll have to see how we’re actually sorted when the time comes. I just hope I don’t perform too poorly during the Sorting.”
As Hermione spoke, a flicker of nervous apprehension flashed in her eyes.
A child raised in a loving family was actually afraid of an evaluation or exam—was it due to high expectations from her parents, or her own perfectionism?
Vincent found himself looking forward to Hogwarts even more.
On Privet Drive, the only person he could interact with was Harry; other ordinary people seemed utterly boring to him, not worth engaging with at all.
Looking back now, perhaps it was because the magic inside his body had sensed the magic hidden within Harry, giving him a sense of kinship that made him willing to reach out to Harry Potter when he was at a disadvantage.
Even before stepping foot inside Hogwarts, he had already encountered several subjects raised in completely different environments.
It really was better to go out and see more of the world.
If he had stayed on Privet Drive, everyone he encountered in the future would be nothing more than mundane Muggles.
But now, he was about to see the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the institution that supposedly educated all wizards in Britain.
If he walked around a bit more, he might encounter even more young wizards, allowing him to perceive the subtle differences between individuals.
Vincent wanted to clarify something.
His birth parents, whom he had never met, were likely gone forever, and his adoptive parents couldn’t explain things to him—after all, they didn’t have magic either.
To some extent, the young wizards at Hogwarts were just like him, yet deep down, Vincent felt a distinction.
How could he be the same as that crowd of ordinary young wizards?
He needed to observe more and interact with more subjects to make the most accurate judgment.
Vincent was a rigorous person.
His original goal had been to become a groundbreaking scientist who would open new frontiers for humanity—now, it seemed that becoming an exceptional magical scholar who pioneered a new era for wizardkind wouldn’t be bad either.
The train clattered forward toward Hogwarts.
No one knew what kind of place it truly was; Hogwarts’ protective magic enfolded the castle in an absolutely secure shield.
*Hogwarts: A History* recorded relevant information about Hogwarts, but what was written in books was only what could be revealed to the world.
As for how many secrets were hidden in that ancient magic castle standing in an unknown location for who knows how many years, only those inside could explore them in person.
Vincent stepped out of the compartment and strolled aimlessly down the long corridor.
Almost all the young wizards stayed in their own compartments.
The train had been running for a while, and without a specific reason, everyone remained inside, chatting with familiar friends or new acquaintances.
Of course, there were exceptions—such as patrolling prefects, or an arrogant boy who felt like wandering around for no reason.
The blonde boy still insisted on using hair gel to fix his hair meticulously in place.
Leading the two boys behind him, he walked forward, and his eyes seemed to light up when he looked up and spotted Vincent standing in the middle of the corridor.
“Hey, aren’t you the boy from Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions?”
Vincent suddenly felt a faint headache coming on.
Spoiled children raised in doting families did have some reference value, but not much.
He had already seen one such experimental subject—the little boy from the Dursley family had been spoiled rotten by his parents.
Compared to Dudley Dursley, the boy in front of him at least possessed the single virtue of being good-looking.
“Draco Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you here.” Vincent flashed a smile almost the instant the boy walked up to him, his tone so sincere that no one could find fault with it.
Let alone anyone else, even Draco Malfoy was taken aback.
Were they really that close?
Why did this person suddenly feel surprisingly warm and friendly, to the point of being strange?
“Ahem—it’s only natural you’re pleased to see me. After all, who wouldn’t want to meet a Malfoy?”
“I didn’t come looking for you, though. Word is that Harry Potter entered Hogwarts this year too. Do you know where he is?”
Another little fanboy looking for Harry Potter.
If the boy before him knew that the Harry Potter he wanted to see was the very boy he had looked down upon in the shop earlier, what kind of expression would he have on his face?
“Harry Potter? Is there something you need him for?” Vincent didn’t reveal Harry’s location directly, instead asking with a smile about Draco Malfoy’s intentions.
“What’s it to you? Draco is just asking about Harry Potter.”
A chubby boy behind him suddenly spoke up, seemingly wanting to show off his capability in front of Draco Malfoy.
A lackey, then.
This boy reminded him of Dudley Dursley from next door—equally rude and unattractive.
Among the children who had just entered Hogwarts, the hierarchy was not yet distinct; the only thing that could influence them was relationships between their families.
When Vincent was buying books, he hadn’t just bought the required textbooks on the Hogwarts acceptance letter; he had also bought many books related to the magical world.
He knew that the Malfoys belonged to the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and that their family line was sparse.
Barring any accidents, Draco Malfoy was likely the sole child of the Malfoy family in this generation.
As long as he grew up safely, the next heir of the Malfoy family would undoubtedly be him.
“Draco, that breaks my heart. It seems you don’t really wish to continue talking with me. That’s fine; once we enter Hogwarts, we will have plenty of opportunities to communicate. I believe those experiences will be enjoyable for both of us.”
“As for Harry Potter, perhaps you can look further back. He’s probably in one of the compartments toward the end, though I’m not entirely certain.”
An heir to a pure-blood family, a simple and straightforward boy—there was no subject easier to control than him.
Draco Malfoy glared softly at the chubby boy behind him, then turned back and nodded slightly to Vincent, as if he had taken his words to heart.
“If I find Harry Potter and still have time, I’ll come back to find you, Vincent.”
Draco Malfoy didn’t know which family the boy in front of him belonged to.
Even now, he didn’t know what his surname was.
His sharp pure-blood intuition told him that this boy was definitely quite extraordinary.
If he had time after seeing Harry Potter, he wouldn’t mind making friends with a couple of capable young wizards.
They would all be valuable connections for his future.
The Ministry of Magic wasn’t something the Malfoy family alone could hold up.
For someone like Vincent, Draco Malfoy somehow felt he would enter the Ministry of Magic in the future.
The elegance in his manners and his innate, distinct aura could not be built merely through imitation.
Draco Malfoy thought the boy’s background certainly wouldn’t disappoint him.
Vincent brushed past Draco Malfoy and continued forward.
To be honest, he was already somewhat disappointed, having failed to find a satisfying research subject.
He didn’t even know what he had come out looking for, but staying in that small room listening to them guess about Hogwarts’ future had felt utterly boring.
Just as he passed a compartment, the door suddenly slid open.
A delicate boy with dark hair looked up, his eyes locking right into Vincent’s.
“Nott?”
Theodore Nott froze.
He hadn’t expected the stranger he had seen on the platform earlier to appear before him again so soon.
Instinctively frowning, he stepped out of the compartment, wanting to avoid him.
“Are you hiding from me? Why? I thought our first meeting was rather friendly. Perhaps there’s a deal of shared resonance between us.”
Theodore Nott was the subject Vincent had encountered so far who was most similar to himself.
Though one was from a wizarding family and the other from a Muggle family, it didn’t stop them from finding a familiar resonance in each other.
Through the compartment door Theodore Nott hadn’t fully closed, Vincent could see it was completely empty—not a single person inside.
“Won’t you invite me in to sit?”
Theodore Nott’s brow furrowed even tighter.
He glared at Vincent, who had suddenly appeared in front of him, unable to fathom what this unfamiliar wizard wanted.
“I don’t think there’s anything for us to talk about,” Theodore Nott said.
“This is only our second time meeting.”
“It’s already the second time. There are so many people in the world; not just anyone gets a second meeting… Besides, it’s actually the third.”
Ollivanders Wand Shop, the platform, the train—they really were bound by fate.
“But we are schoolmates attending the same school,” Theodore Nott refuted coldly.
“Isn’t that even more surprising? We both happen to be wizards in Britain, and both happen to attend Hogwarts.”
There was a hint of disdain in Theodore Nott’s voice: “There is only one magical school in England, and it’s called Hogwarts.”
The implicit meaning being: where else could they go besides Hogwarts?
For the first time, Vincent felt his silver tongue rendered completely useless.
This one was far trickier to deal with than the pure-bloods he had met earlier.
Vincent felt excited by this.
Look at that sharp tongue and quick wit.
Vincent felt only delight, without a single trace of offense.
Seeing Vincent’s demeanor, Theodore Nott knew the boy wouldn’t leave without a proper conversation.
He could only pull open the compartment door again and take a step back.
“I don’t know what you want to do, but make it quick. I have other things to do.”
What could a newly enrolled young wizard do on the train to school?
Vincent was puzzled inside, but showed nothing on his face.
“Don’t worry, I won’t take up much of your time. If you need anything, feel free to mention it—I’d be happy to help.”