"No, don't trust him. That's just an act—yeah, that's how they pretend to be in front of you, Harry!" Ron blurted out.
"Don't be like that, Ron." Harry was in an excellent mood. Little Malfoy had been absolutely terrified just now, yet had still tried to keep a straight face; it had been hilarious to watch.
"People can change. Don't judge someone just because of their family. Maybe Malfoy's actually a decent person."
Ron hesitated. "Maybe… maybe you're right. I might be wrong about him."
Harry lowered his head slightly; his fringe slipped forward, shadowing his finely cut, emerald-green eyes.
He was thinking about Malfoy. It seemed that "accidentally" almost killing him last time had left a deep scar on the boy's psyche.
Malfoy came from a pure-blood wizarding family that cared intensely about its honour, but the magic inside him wasn't particularly impressive. For an ordinary young wizard it was plenty, but for someone like Malfoy—someone who wanted to be exceptional in old Mr Malfoy's eyes—it was nowhere near enough.
He definitely wanted to shine more brightly in Lucius Malfoy's sight. Combine that desperation with the fear Harry had already planted in him, and Malfoy might be the perfect candidate for a new borrower.
If he wanted to reform this backward wizarding world, the Malfoy family's strength would be an important asset.
Once he'd made up his mind, Harry turned to look out the window.
The sky had grown dark. Under the deep violet heavens, mountains and forests blurred together into shadow.
The train seemed to be slowing down.
Harry and Ron stepped outside so Hermione could change into her black school robes.
Afterward, the two boys went back into the compartment to change as well.
They took off their jackets and pulled on their robes. Harry noticed that Ron's were a bit too short, leaving his pair of battered trainers poking out underneath.
Knowing that boys their age had their pride, Harry took a roundabout approach.
"By the way, I've gotten pretty good at Transfiguration. Want to see?"
"Huh?" Ron had no idea what Harry was getting at.
Before he could answer, Harry flicked his wand.
Ron's old robes, worn thin and faintly stained with marks that wouldn't wash out, went clean in an instant and reshaped themselves to fit him perfectly.
Even his shabby trainers turned into a brand-new pair.
Ron's eyes went wide. "Whoa, that's brilliant! Harry, how long's your Transfiguration going to last?"
Harry spread his hands. "No idea. A few days, a few weeks, maybe longer. I burned through a lot of magic for it, anyway."
"You're amazing, Harry. You really are the saviour of the wizarding world!"
"Five minutes until arrival at Hogwarts—please leave your luggage on the train. It will be brought up to the school separately." A shrill voice echoed along the carriages.
Harry guessed it must be one of Hogwarts' house-elves. They were servants to wizards and intensely loyal.
Some house-elves were even more magically capable than their masters. As for why they still served so faithfully, Harry had his own theory.
It probably had to do with a spell cast on the entire species—something that shackled their minds and turned them into slaves.
Once, Harry might have thought such a thing unforgivably cruel.
But after seven years of the Sorcerer Supreme's teaching, his view had changed.
Under the Sorcerer Supreme's protection, he had watched cosmic wars from the sidelines, marched in campaigns between dimensions, witnessed the cruelty of demon lords, and seen all kinds of shady bargains made in the world's shadows.
All of that had shown him what the Sorcerer Supreme's duty truly was.
To defend Earth. To uphold the world's order.
He loved the world, and he loved humanity—but not every individual person.
The train gradually ground to a halt. Students jostled and shoved their way through the doors and onto the platform.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stuck together as they stepped out onto a small, pitch-black platform.
The night wind was bitterly cold. The chill slipped down the back of Hermione's collar, making the little otter shiver.
Harry drew his wand and pointed it up at the sky.
"Lumos!"
A bright light shot from the wandtip and floated into the air, hanging there in the dark, untouched by the cold wind.
Harry hadn't altered the Lumos charm itself, but, as he liked to say, as long as he told his chaos magic what he wanted, most of the time it solved everything for him.
Letting the light of Lumos persist even after leaving the wand was one of those little tweaks.
"It's Harry Potter—that spell was his!" some young wizard shouted.
"So that's Harry Potter. No wonder he can do magic before he's even started school."
"That's Lumos—I recognize it. But his Lumos looks different somehow… still, if it's Harry, it makes sense."
"All first-years this way! Mind your step, don't trip!" A familiar voice called from ahead. "Harry! I can see yeh—over here! How've yeh been?"
Up in front of the crowd of first-years, a giant of a man was holding a lantern aloft, lighting the way. It was Hagrid, his bearded face breaking into a wide grin when he saw Harry.
Harry had a real fondness for Hagrid. He could feel that, like Aunt May, Hagrid was the kind of adult who truly cared about him from the heart.
"I've been great. How about you?"
"Couldn't be better. All right, c'mon, you lot! Follow me—I'll take yeh up to the school!"
They had only just started along the path when Harry began to dislike the route to Hogwarts.
The moment he stepped onto the dirt track, it felt as if someone had greased the ground under his feet—one step forward, three steps sliding.
On top of that, the path was narrow, and all the first-years were crammed together, pushing and shoving. If Harry hadn't been watching out for Hermione, she would have been knocked over ages ago.
"Slow down, slow down!" Hagrid bellowed. "Round this bend and you'll see Hogwarts in just a moment!"
Sure enough, as soon as they turned the corner, the view opened up.
A vast black lake lay ahead of them, its surface catching and reflecting the moonlight.
On the hillside beyond the lake rose a towering castle, all gothic turrets and spires. Countless windows blazed with candlelight, like stars scattered across the night sky.
Hagrid's voice boomed again. "See the boats by the shore? No more than four to a boat. No rush—we've got plenty o' time."
Harry picked out a small boat and took the seat at the bow. Hermione quickly joined him, settling down at his side.
Ron climbed in next, and the last person to join them was another familiar face: Neville, the boy who had been looking for his toad on the train.
Neville really was very timid; he hovered nervously at the water's edge, not daring to step into the boat.
Ron was getting impatient. "Neville, what are you doing? Get in already, or we're leaving without you!"
Harry shook his head. In the middle of Neville's squeak of alarm, Harry lifted him with telekinesis and set him gently down in the boat.
Neville knew at once Harry had helped him and mumbled, "Th-thanks, Harry. You've helped me again."
Under the bright moonlight, their boat cut little ripples across the surface of the Black Lake.
The boat must have been enchanted; it drifted forward all on its own without anyone needing to row.
In the distance, the mysterious and ancient castle drew closer and closer to Harry with every passing second.