"Louis, take care on the road. We won't go in with you."
Outside King's Cross Station, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson waved at Louis.
Louis waved back, though his face carried a hint of helplessness.
It was rare for his parents to bother seeing him off to school—though, truthfully, the real reason was the nice restaurant nearby. After sending him off, they planned to enjoy a romantic lunch together.
Still, they did come to see him off, didn't they?
What else could Louis do but smile and wish them a good meal?
Pushing his trolley toward the station, the cages rattled gently—Fafnir and Hastur were curled up together inside, dozing side by side.
Louis pulled out the pocket watch from his upper pocket and checked the time.
Half past ten. Plenty of time.
This mechanical watch had been his birthday present this year—so he wouldn't have to keep guessing the time while at Hogwarts.
With practiced ease, Louis stepped onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, taking the opportunity to enjoy the nervous faces of first-years making their way through.
Amusing, truly amusing.
And of course, with such wide-eyed newcomers, it was only right to set an example.
Still dressed in his trademark tailcoat, Louis prepared to stage another costume-change trick. But this time, it wouldn't be the simple instant switch he had done before.
No—this time he would put into practice some of the stagecraft he had learned from Mr. Wilson.
The first step: a dazzling setting.
With a snap of his fingers, petals began to bloom in midair, floating gracefully through the corridor of the train.
They drifted up and down, dissolving slowly whenever they floated out of the compartment doors.
Gasps of surprise filled the carriage. Students reached out to snatch the petals, only to find them impossibly light, always slipping away at the last moment.
Soon enough, young witches and wizards leaned out from their compartments, their eyes fixed on Louis standing in the corridor, surrounded by a halo of petals.
Smiling, Louis snapped his fingers again.
A cascade of petals fell, burying him completely.
Then—burst!—the petals exploded outward, and Louis stepped forward wearing a Slytherin robe, tipping his hat politely to his new audience.
The show was much like his earlier one, though last time it had been an honest stage trick. This time, it was dressed up as "magic."
Not real spells—just sleight of hand, with a boost from his Stand's power and lightning speed.
Yes, Louis had actually changed clothes by hand. But he was so fast—and the petals so perfectly distracting—that no one noticed.
Didn't they see the petals explode at the end? That was the backlash from him moving during a brief stop in time.
A pure illusion, mistaken for magic or sorcery.
[An impressive performance.]
[You gained Trick Points: 3,000. Current total: 187,500.]
As expected, wizards always provided more points.
Satisfied with this brilliant start to the school year, Louis slipped into an empty carriage, under the envious stares of the new students.
This time, no pure-blood families came over to greet him. Likely they had no mood for pleasantries—every single one of them had already been harassed by Arthur Weasley and his people, so they weren't exactly inclined to coach their children in social niceties.
Before long, Hermione came looking for him.
"Louis, how was your holiday?" she asked warmly.
"To be honest, not very good." Louis sighed and told Hermione what had happened.
"That's outrageous!" Hermione immediately stood up for him. "It wasn't even your fault, yet they wouldn't help you solve the problem?"
"Of course, Harry's situation is pitiful too," Louis added casually.
Still, it was clear in Hermione's eyes that Louis mattered more; Harry Potter was just an afterthought.
Only after triple-checking that Louis's studies wouldn't be affected did Hermione brighten up and begin excitedly sharing her own holiday stories—chiefly about her trip to France.
Then she mentioned what had happened in Diagon Alley.
"I ran into Ron's father, Arthur Weasley. He's such a peculiar wizard—seems fascinated by Muggle things. He kept asking my dad what rubber ducks are for," Hermione said with a smile. "But because of that, he was very kind to my parents. Not like Malfoy's father—he looked so elegant on the surface, but really he just despises us Muggle-borns. In the end, he even fought with Mr. Weasley."
"Oh? And who won?" Louis asked with interest.
"Hagrid stopped them before it could go anywhere… Anyway, that's not the point." Hermione rolled her eyes prettily. "The point is, those wizards actually fought just like Muggles—with their fists!"
"That's hardly surprising," Louis replied lightly. "If anything, that's the better way—keeps things from escalating. Sounds like Diagon Alley was lively. Anything else?"
"Of course! There was Professor Lockhart's book signing! The new edition of Magical Me came out, and he's every bit as handsome in person as in the photos!" Hermione said excitedly.
Louis raised an eyebrow. "So… do you think he's handsome, or am I more handsome?"
Just then, the train whistle blew—eleven o'clock sharp. The Hogwarts Express lurched forward.
The sudden blast drowned out Louis's words, leaving Hermione blinking in confusion.
"Louis, what did you just say?" she asked.
Louis was about to repeat himself when an untimely knock came at the door.
The compartment door slid open, and a girl wearing a pointed wizard's hat stepped in. Her voice was cool as she asked, "Sorry, may I sit here?"
With a stranger entering, Louis let his self-praise die on his tongue.
"Of course, no problem. There's plenty of space," Hermione said quickly. She even rose from the seat opposite Louis to sit beside him instead.
"Thank you." The girl gave a polite nod, then sat across from them and removed her hat. A cascade of golden hair spilled down, brightening the compartment so much that even Hermione was taken aback by her beauty.
And as it turned out—she was no stranger.
Louis looked at the girl and recognized her instantly: the one who had bought her wand at Ollivander's ahead of schedule that day.
If he remembered right… Cassandra.
"Hello, we meet again." Cassandra's pale green eyes flicked to the Slytherin crest on Louis's robe as she spoke.
"Louis, you know her?" Hermione asked, a faint nervousness creeping into her tone. Almost unconsciously, she clutched at Louis's sleeve.
Cassandra's light green gaze fell on Hermione's tense little hand. The faint smile at her lips carried a sharp, almost provocative edge.
"Not exactly. For example, this young lady doesn't know me at all," Louis said casually.
"Louis Wilson," Cassandra said suddenly, her voice steady. "The famous heir of Merlin's bloodline. Louis Wilson, am I right?"
The blow landed too fast—Louis's eye twitched before he could stop himself.
---
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