The journey to Hogwarts was a long, rattling affair that consumed the better part of the afternoon.
Fortunately, Maurise had ample time to chat with the enthusiastic upperclassmen sharing his compartment.
"Now, you've got four houses," Lee Jordan explained, counting them off on his fingers. "Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Obviously, Gryffindor is the premier house; it's where the best witches and wizards end up. And just a heads up, the entrance exam is brutal. They make you wrestle a two-headed troll, about ten feet tall. You have to knock it out cold before you're officially allowed to study at Hogwarts."
Lee Jordan seemed to be a natural broadcaster; he simply couldn't stop talking, eager to fill Maurise in on every detail of school life.
However, Maurise remained highly skeptical about that last part.
Having read Hogwarts: A History cover to cover, Maurise had a fairly solid understanding of the four houses and the sorting process. There was no mention of trolls.
In truth, he didn't particularly care which house he was sorted into. It wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter, anyway.
Midway through the journey, George offered Maurise a rather innocuous-looking toffee.
The moment Maurise swallowed it, his tongue felt as though it had been inflated with a bicycle pump. It swelled rapidly, filling his mouth until his speech became nothing but unintelligible, wet noises.
The effect lasted for precisely thirty seconds.
Watching Maurise struggle with his giant tongue, George and Fred clapped their hands together, looking positively ecstatic.
"Success! Stability is confirmed, and the duration is precise!" Fred cheered.
"What was that?" Maurise asked, smacking his lips as his tongue returned to normal size. There was still a lingering, sugary sweetness in his mouth.
George grinned, explaining, "Ton-Tongue Toffee. Or at least, a prototype. It's a prank product we're developing. You just witnessed the beta test."
"And what is the practical application?" Maurise asked curiously.
Hearing this, the twins exchanged a look.
George shrugged, using a tone that suggested the answer was obvious. "To prank people."
Fred added, "Honestly, it has no practical use. It won't help you pass your Potions exam, and it certainly won't make your wand cast brighter charms... but it's hilarious, isn't it?"
He spread his arms wide, his face radiating pure, unadulterated joy. "So, Maurise, how about joining our Prank Club?"
Lee Jordan looked confused. "Hogwarts has a Prank Club?"
"Minor detail," Fred said with righteous confidence. "We just decided to found it five seconds ago."
Lee Jordan decided to ignore the two idiots. He leaned in, lowering his voice with a touch of schadenfreude as he addressed Maurise. "Don't let their confidence fool you. These two spent their entire final exam period last term tinkering with those toffees. As a result, their report cards were a spectacular collection of 'P's and 'D's."
Poor and Dreadful.
Despite his hushed tone, the twins' ears twitched. They caught the keywords and immediately launched themselves at Lee, resulting in a chaotic wrestling match.
They really are an interesting trio, Maurise mused.
Thump, thump...
Unnoticed amidst the chaos, a toad had appeared in the compartment, hopping rhythmically across the floor.
"Oi, whose toad is that?" Lee Jordan asked, untangling himself from Fred.
"Er... didn't you guys bring it?" Maurise asked, puzzled. "It's been bouncing around in here for the last ten minutes."
"We wouldn't be caught dead keeping an ugly toad as a pet," Fred retorted, dusting off his robes. "Those things are useless for anything other than Charms practice targets. And the shop in Diagon Alley has the nerve to charge the same price for them as they do for owls!"
Poor toad. Its social standing in the magical world was truly tragic.
George reached down, intending to grab the amphibian.
However, the moment his hand extended, the clumsy-looking creature kicked its back legs with startling force. It launched itself into the air with surprising agility, bouncing directly off the top of George's head.
Immediately after, it began ricocheting around the train compartment like a rubber ball. It was terrifyingly fast. Even with three third-year students scrambling, they couldn't lay a finger on it.
"Wow," Maurise marveled.
As expected of a magical toad; it was built differently.
Suddenly, the toad changed trajectory. It banked off the luggage rack and flew straight toward Maurise's face like a green projectile.
"Qwa... Zinth... Oor!"
In the heat of the moment, Maurise instinctively cast a spell he had mastered.
One of the distinct advantages of curse-type magic is its auto-targeting nature; the spell latches onto the user's intent and seeks out the target within range. Against a high-speed, erratic object, it was the optimal choice.
Almost the instant the incantation formed in his mind, the toad dropped like a stone, hitting the floor with a wet splat.
Its body trembled violently, limbs twitching uncontrollably. White foam began to bubble from the corners of its wide mouth, and its bulging eyes held a glassy look of sheer, psychological trauma.
Maurise blinked, slightly surprised.
Although the target was only a toad, the effect of the Wailing Curse was far more potent than he had anticipated. When he had tested it previously on Tin or Cinder, the results hadn't been nearly this dramatic.
Perhaps his own pets just had higher magic resistance?
Lee Jordan stared wide-eyed at the twitching amphibian on the floor, then looked up at Maurise, who sat there with a calm expression.
"Wicked, mate," Lee breathed. "What spell was that? I've never heard that incantation before. Wait... did you just do that without a wand?"
The question hung in the air. Fred and George immediately stopped their antics, their gazes locking onto Maurise with sudden intensity.
"Er..." Maurise hadn't expected them to be quite this shocked. He quickly scrambled for an excuse. "It's just an obscure jinx I saw in an old book. I wanted to see if it worked. Seems effective enough."
He paused, trying to shift the focus. "By the way, is not using a wand considered strange?"
The three older students looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and speechlessness at his lack of common knowledge.
"Let me educate you, Maurise," George said, his tone unusually serious. "Only the most powerful, experienced wizards can cast spells reliably without a wand."
"Maybe it was just a fluke? Blind luck?" Maurise offered, shrugging.
"I like that theory," Fred chuckled, the tension breaking. "But, Maurise, give it another go. Let's see your skills."
Maurise looked down at the pitiful toad, which had just stopped seizing and was now lying there, looking thoroughly defeated.
"Oh, sure."
He extended his palm toward the toad again. He scrunched up his face, feigning deep concentration, and prepared to spout absolute nonsense.
Better not to show off too much, he decided.
"Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo!"
Maurise pulled the gibberish from a Muggle fairy tale he remembered and shouted it with conviction.
Naturally, the toad on the floor did absolutely nothing. It merely croaked weakly, staring blankly at the carpet.
"Hmm..." Maurise sighed, putting on a mask of disappointment. "Doesn't seem to be working now."
Oddly enough, this failure seemed to make the situation much more acceptable to the twins and Lee.
"Figured as much. Wandless casting isn't that simple," George said, nodding sagely.
A first-year student capable of consistent wandless magic would have been terrifying. A fluke was much easier to digest.
Maurise felt it was the right time to end the discussion on his magical abilities. He pointed back to the floor. "So, really, whose toad is this? Is it wild?"