The interior of the train was much as Alan had imagined, looking just like any other ordinary train. Excited students packed the carriages, their noisy laughter and chatter clearly audible even through the compartment doors.
He had arrived a step too late and couldn't find an empty compartment. There was no helping it; although he preferred peace and quiet, he would just have to make do.
Finally, in the middle of the train, he saw a compartment with only three students inside. A boy with pale blond hair and a pointed chin sat there, while opposite him were two large, chubby boys. The blond boy was saying something in a sharp tone, and the other two were nodding in agreement.
Alan knocked on the compartment door.
The conversation inside came to an abrupt halt. Three pairs of eyes looked toward the door at the same time.
The blond boy sized Alan up, his gaze lingering for a moment on his plain robes and the black cat, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.
"What is it?" the blond boy asked, his tone carrying a hint of annoyance at being disturbed.
"Excuse me, is there a seat available here?" Alan asked calmly, as if he hadn't noticed the sense of distance the other boy was deliberately creating.
The blond boy didn't answer immediately. Instead, another boy beside him spoke up gruffly, with a clear exclusionary tone, "It's full here. Draco doesn't like to be disturbed."
The blond boy called Draco raised his pointed chin, seemingly satisfied with his companion's response.
"Sorry to bother you," Alan replied politely.
Since they had made their attitude clear, he wasn't going to make a nuisance of himself by pushing further.
But just as he turned to leave, he keenly caught a clear clicking of a tongue from inside the compartment. This was immediately followed by the blond boy's undisguised sneer: "Tsk. Another one who doesn't know the rules. Look at those robes, and that weird cat—probably another mudblood."
The malicious tone made Alan pause for a second.
Mudblood?
That didn't sound like a good word.
Forget it; why bother taking a few kids seriously? If there was another chance, I'd give them a little lesson then. Brats like that needed the iron fist of justice to keep them in line.
He shook his head slightly and continued searching for a seat.
"Hello, is there a seat here?"
"Uh, if you don't mind, come in."
"Thanks."
This time, inside the compartment were three boys quite a bit taller than him, clearly not first-year students. A pair of red-haired twins—obviously, as they looked identical—and a tall, dark-skinned boy with dreadlocks.
Alan left his luggage outside the carriage and sat down beside the boy with dreadlocks, holding Canned Food.
"Um, hello," the boy greeted him hesitantly.
"Hello," Alan nodded, his response equally brief.
He adjusted his breathing, straightened his back slightly, and then slowly closed his eyes, quickly entering a meditative state. The black cat in his arms seemed affected by the atmosphere as well; it stretched, curled up, and closed its eyes.
For a moment, a strange silence fell over the compartment.
The other three looked at each other, their faces showing a touch of inexplicable confusion.
A strange person.
"Ahem." The boy with dreadlocks cleared his throat, trying to break the somewhat eerie silence. He leaned over and asked Alan, who seemed to be resting with his eyes closed, "Are you a new student?"
Alan opened his eyes immediately. He had originally just wanted to travel quietly to Hogwarts, but since the other boy had initiated a conversation, it would be a bit rude not to answer.
"Yes," Alan replied with a smile.
"I'm Lee Jordan." The boy with dreadlocks seemed relieved when he responded. For some reason, he had felt an indescribable aura coming from Alan just now. It was as if a voice was telling him it was best not to get too close.
Lee Jordan pointed to the red-haired twins opposite them. "These are Fred Weasley and George Weasley. We're third-year students in Gryffindor."
"I'm Alan Black. You can just call me Alan," Alan said simply.
"Black!?"
Fred and George exclaimed in unison, both of them bolting upright as if their tails had been stepped on at the same time, the relaxed grins on their faces vanishing instantly.
The atmosphere in the carriage suddenly became tense.
"What's wrong?" Alan asked, a bit taken aback.
George stared intently at Alan and asked cautiously, "Your parents are...?"
This wasn't exactly a polite question. However, Alan had probably realized there was an issue. It was likely that there were people or a family named Black who were very famous in the wizarding world.
"Oh, don't overthink it," Alan replied calmly. "I'm from the Muggle side."
Fred and George exhaled a long sigh of relief almost simultaneously, leaning back into their seats and relaxing once more.
"That's good then," Fred grinned.
A flash of doubt crossed Alan's silver-gray eyes. "Is there something wrong with the surname Black in the wizarding world?"
The twins looked at each other.
"It's nothing, don't worry about it," George took over, waving a hand dismissively. His tone was light as he added, "It's just that in the wizarding world, some surnames are rather disliked, you know. Like Malfoy."
Perhaps thinking of the humor inherent in that surname, the two shared a look and laughed at the same time. This was the unspoken understanding of twins.
Alan indicated that he didn't understand, but he didn't intend to probe further. It was probably some history between wizarding families. He had previously bought a few miscellaneous books on wizarding history in Diagon Alley and already had a general understanding of the wizarding world.
Speaking of which, the origin of Alan's surname was quite ridiculous. He had lived in a children's home since he was a child; although he'd had his own consciousness back then, a child's thoughts were very chaotic. He had forgotten at what age he had started having clear memories. However, he had heard a caregiver mention that his surname had been chosen through a lottery. Perhaps for fun, the caregiver at the time had put a bunch of slips of paper with different names into an old hat and let the nameless children in the home take turns drawing them. Alan was one of them. That was the origin of the name Alan Black.
A not-very-common name. But it didn't matter; he didn't have any special feelings toward his name. It was just a label.
At that moment, Lee Jordan's attention was drawn to the black cat on Alan's lap. He pointed at Canned Food and asked, "Did you buy your cat in Diagon Alley?"
Fred and George also immediately cast inquisitive glances. They had been interested in this cat from the start. Hollow eyes and a cold aura. That was the first impression Canned Food gave them.
The undead cat seemed to sense it was the center of conversation and lazily lifted its eyelids. Its eerie eyes swept over Lee Jordan, who felt a sudden, inexplicable chill.
"No, it wasn't bought," Alan shook his head. "It's just a stray cat I picked up."
This casual answer caused Lee Jordan to show a look of disapproval.
"Hey, mate," he said in the tone of someone with experience, "Muggle world cats are all stupid; they can't do much besides eating and sleeping. If you want to keep a cat, it's better to go to the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley and buy one. The cats there are much smarter; some can even help you find things or warn you of danger."
Fred and George nodded in agreement from the side.
"Hmm." Alan rubbed his chin. "But my cat is very smart; it can even perform acrobatics."
He placed Canned Food on the floor and commanded solemnly, "Good cat, do the splits."
Canned Food's eyes were instantly filled with an extremely human-like, undisguised disdain. It even tilted its head slightly, as if questioning whether something was wrong with its master's head.
"What a waste," Alan clicked his tongue in disgust. "Fireworks is better."
Canned Food immediately and obediently performed a perfect split.
The other three watched, dumbfounded.
//===================//