“My mother made them.”
He pushed them forward.
“As a return gift.”
As the three boys shared the two kinds of snacks—one Eastern, one Western—the atmosphere in the compartment grew a little more relaxed.
Ron began to talk animatedly about his family.
All five of his older brothers had gone to Hogwarts, and he hoped he would be sorted into Gryffindor.
“Otherwise, Mum will kill me.”
Harry shyly shared a few things about the Dursleys, though he clearly left a lot out.
Alvin Vance spent most of the time listening, occasionally asking a question or two.
He was observing and learning.
These children who grew up in British wizarding families had manners, ways of thinking, and even understandings of magic that were completely different from his own.
As the train traveled north, the sky outside the window gradually darkened.
Ron pulled out his battered old wand, attempting to show Harry a spell he had learned from one of his brothers.
“Wingardium Leviosa!”
The clumsy incantation was spoken, but the Levitation Charm, which Ron claimed could make a quill float, only caused the quill’s tail feathers to twitch slightly.
“Maybe I’m just not in the right mindset today…”
A flush of embarrassment colored Ron’s freckled cheeks, while Harry covered his mouth and let out a quiet giggle.
Alvin watched this, thoughtful.
Although Ron’s spell hadn’t produced the desired effect, he could sense a faint trace of magic generated by the waving wand—even if it was negligible.
The way Western magic was cast indeed relied heavily on the precise coordination of wand and incantation.
He recalled his father’s words:
“Their magic is ‘borrowed,’ while our Daoist arts are ‘cultivated.’ Borrowed power requires a medium and a password; cultivated power resides within yourself.”
Setting his book down, Alvin extended his right index finger.
He uttered no incantations and used no wand.
Instead, he simply focused his mind, channeled a wisp of spiritual qi within his body to his fingertip, and tapped lightly on the empty air.
In the compartment, the wrappers of the three Chocolate Frogs floated up simultaneously, forming a stable equilateral triangle in the air and rotating slowly.
Harry and Ron’s mouths fell open.
“That…
that’s impossible!”
Ron’s voice cracked.
“Wandless, silent magic!
And controlling three objects at once!
My dad says only incredibly powerful wizards can do that!”
Alvin withdrew his finger, and the wrappers drifted gently back down onto the small table.
“It’s not magic,”
he said.
“It’s a different method, from…
well, the ancient East, where I grew up.”
Ron’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’.
He looked Alvin up and down, finally noticing details he had previously overlooked:
From his hair tied up in a bun and the single lock of silver hair over his forehead, to his soft, Eastern-featured facial structure, and finally, his dark blue Daoist robe, which resembled a wizard’s robe but had distinct differences.
“By Merlin!
I didn’t even notice…
I mean, your English is more proper than Percy Weasley’s!”
Though Harry said nothing, the curiosity in his green eyes was practically overflowing.
Having grown up with the Dursleys, his concept of ‘foreign countries’ was limited to the occasional exotic snippets on television.
Alvin let out a soft sigh, a gesture that made him look far more mature than his actual age.
“My mother is British, and my father is Chinese.
I was born in the UK but raised in China.”
“Merlin’s socks!”
Ron slapped his thigh hard, nearly knocking over the pumpkin juice on the table.
“You’re actually from the legendary China?!
The place with flying swordsmen, wizards who can turn into pandas, and elixirs of immortality?!”
Alvin’s brow twitched slightly.
“Flying swordsmen…
exist, in a sense.
Pandas don’t transform; they are just pandas.
As for elixirs…”
He paused, recalling the strangely smelling cauldrons in his father’s alchemy room.
“That is a highly complex and profound field of study.
My father has researched it for decades and has only refined some basic pills for strengthening the body.”
“That is so cool!”
Ron practically leaned his entire body over the small table, his freckled face bright with the excitement of someone opening Christmas presents.
“So can you do that thing where you light fires with your fingers?
Or pull endless silk out of your sleeves?
Or fly through the sky standing on a sword, like the books say?”
Harry couldn’t help but chime in as well:
“Are there magic schools in China too?
Do they have houses like Hogwarts?”
Alvin felt a slight headache coming on.
He tried to organize his thoughts:
“I don’t stand on swords…
that requires a very high cultivation level.
As for magic schools, we don’t call them that in China.
Some ancient families pass down their traditions privately, and some…
well, sects take on disciples.
But it’s very different from Hogwarts.”
Just as he was thinking of how to more accurately explain the difference between sects and Hogwarts, Ron began another round of wild speculation:
“Then you must have seen dragons, right?
Eastern dragons!
The ones that look like snakes, have claws, and swim through the clouds?
My dad says they’re way cleverer than Common Welsh Greens, and they can control the weather—”
“Ron,”
Harry nudged him, sensing Alvin’s plight.
“You’re asking too many questions.”
“Oh, sorry,”
Ron blushed, though his eyes remained bright.
“I’ve just…
never met a real Chinese wizard before.
My second oldest brother, Charlie, studies dragons.
He says he wants to visit the East some day, but Mum says it’s too far, and the Ministry’s Department of International Magical Cooperation makes the paperwork a nightmare…”
Just then, the compartment door slid open again.
A girl with bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth stood at the door.
She was already wearing her brand-new Hogwarts robes, a look of anxiety on her face.
“Has anyone seen a toad?”
She spoke very fast.
“A boy named Neville has lost his, and he’s been crying the whole way.
I told him I’d help him look, but we’ve already searched six compartments…”
Her gaze swept the compartment, lingering for a moment on the scar on Harry’s forehead.
Her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly regained her composure.
When she looked at Alvin, her eyes stayed on the silver streak in his dark hair for an extra two seconds.
“We haven’t seen any toads,”
Harry said politely.
“Oh,”
the girl said, looking disappointed, but she quickly perked up again.
“Alright then.
Anyway, you’d better get changed into your robes.
I heard we’re nearly there.”
She turned to leave, then paused and looked back.
“I’m Hermione Granger.
And who are you?”
After exchanging introductions, Hermione was about to leave when Alvin suddenly called out to her.
“Wait!”
He looked at her and asked,
“Are there any distinguishing features about this toad?
Or does Neville have anything with him that the toad frequently uses?
Like a feeding box, or a small cage it stayed in?”
Hermione blinked, thought for a moment, and replied,
“Uh…
Neville said it likes to stay in his coat pocket, so his pocket should still have its…
well, toad pee smell?”
She wrinkled her nose.
“That’s enough.”
Alvin pulled a blank piece of yellow talisman paper from his silk pouch and produced an ordinary-looking calligraphy brush with a dark red tip.
He quickly sketched a few strokes on the paper; to Harry and Ron, the patterns looked like tangled vines or twisted writing.
“A locating talisman, simplified version,”
Alvin explained briefly, then gave the paper a gentle flick.
The talisman caught fire, burning without heat and without leaving ashes.
Instead, it transformed into a palm-sized, translucent, and lively pale-yellow butterfly of light.
The butterfly fluttered gracefully around the compartment before flying straight through the closed door without hesitation.
“Wow!”
Ron let out another gasp.
Hermione’s eyes widened.
“What…
what spell is that?
I’ve memorized *The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1*, and there’s absolutely nothing in there about paper burning into butterflies!
And you didn’t even say an incantation!
Or wave a wand!”
“It’s not a spell,”
Alvin stood up.
“Shall we follow it?
Once it finds its target, it will only last for a minute.”
The four of them hurried out of the compartment, following the glowing butterfly as it fluttered down the corridor.
First-years in other compartments poked their heads out, whispering in astonishment.
The butterfly led them through two carriages before stopping outside a compartment piled high with luggage, where a round-faced boy was rubbing his tears.
It landed gently on his crumpled coat pocket, blinked a few times, and then fluttered its wings to settle beneath the seat.
Following the locating talisman’s guidance, Alvin walked over and moved a large trunk from beneath the seat.
In the dark, hidden corner, he spotted the toad Neville had been so desperately searching for.
“There it is.
It’s asleep.”
Neville scrambled over, scooping up a plump toad that was sleeping soundly, its throat puffing in and out.
“Trevor!”
he cried happily, a smile breaking through his tears.
“Thank you!
Thank you so much!”
Hermione spun around, her eyes burning with curiosity as she stared at Alvin.
“How did you do that?
How did the butterfly of light know to look for that coat?
And how did it figure out the toad was under the seat?
That doesn’t fit any known theory of tracking magic!”
Her questions fired off like a machine gun, leaving Ron blinking in bewilderment.
Harry just looked at Alvin, waiting for his answer.
Alvin slipped the brush back into his silk pouch and said simply,
“It’s not magic.
It is the Dao of Talismans—using a medium to guide and connect spiritual qi.”
Hermione opened her mouth, seemingly with a million more questions to ask, but just then, the train began to slow down.
Outside the window, the dark silhouettes of mountains and the distant twinkling of lights came into view.
“We’re really here!”
Ron looked out the window, growing excited.
A booming voice echoed down the corridor:
“First-years!
Prepare to disembark!”
Alvin nodded to Hermione, who was still trying to digest terms like ‘Dao of Talismans’ and ‘qi guidance,’ and to the profusely grateful Neville.
Then he turned back toward his compartment to change into the standard black school robes.
Hogwarts was finally right before his eyes.