Chapter 9: I Consider This Behavior Very Impolite

After the topic of wands, the compartment fell into rare silence, mainly because Hermione was now hesitant to keep talking to Silven, afraid she might further upset Neville.

Silven was happy for the quiet and, once the train stopped jolting so badly, opened his book again.

Compared to chatting with Miss Know-it-all, wands were far more interesting.

This book had been given to him by Ollivander before departure, and much of its content had opened Silven’s eyes.

How to put it? Ollivander’s Wand Shop has endured for over two thousand years—older than Hogwarts itself—and what it left behind was far more than just that small, shabby shop in Diagon Alley.

Although the book in Silven’s hands wasn’t among the oldest, merely a “new” one from five hundred years ago, it was more than enough for him.

……

From morning to afternoon, the sky gradually darkened; when Silven lifted his head again, Hermione and Neville were gone, leaving only him in the compartment.

“Arrived?” Silven instinctively looked out the window.

The sky was low and gray, feeling oppressive.

But at that moment, the compartment lights turned on; under the dim yellow glow, the outside window became pitch black, nothing visible.

Also, Hermione had returned.

“Silven, you…” She opened the compartment door and paused, slightly startled.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.” Hermione shook her head and explained, “I thought you were still reading, so I came to remind you to change into your robes—we’re almost there.”

“Thank you.” Silven nodded.

“You’re welcome.” Hermione said.

She had come back to retrieve her luggage and took the chance to remind Silven.

But before she could even take down her suitcase, Silven stopped her.

“No need. Someone will carry our luggage for us.”

“You’re sure?” Hermione doubted.

“Of course.” Silven smiled. “If everyone dragged several large trunks, the school’s transportation might not be enough.”

Hermione’s confusion deepened.

She wanted to ask what kind of transportation it was, but at that moment, the train had come to a complete stop.

“Please leave your luggage on the train; we will deliver it to the school for you.” The voice echoed through the train, confirming Silven’s words.

They truly didn’t need to carry their luggage.

“First-year students, first-year students, this way!” Another unfamiliar voice called from outside.

“Let’s hurry out,” Hermione said, watching as Silven took down a small leather satchel from the luggage rack.

“Some valuable things are safer kept with us,” Silven slung the bag over his shoulder and covered it with his long robe.

During this, occasional clinking sounds came from inside the bag.

Hermione suddenly guessed what it was.

Probably gold and silver coins—if so, yes, she should carry them herself; her money was all in her pockets, but she didn’t have as much as Silven, so she didn’t need a separate bag.

That wasn’t surprising. A wand-making family was equivalent to an arms dealer in the magical world—certainly not short of money.

Speaking of wealth, she had just met a boy rumored to be from a very rich family, utterly rude, flanked by two followers, as if he wanted to lift his nostrils to the sky.

In contrast, Silven’s personality was far better—he had always been patient with her and Neville.

He was just too hardworking, reading nonstop on the train.

Though he was reading “leisure books,” not textbooks, she couldn’t help feeling a flicker of anxiety.

But Silven didn’t know what Hermione was thinking; after changing into his robe, he followed the crowd off the train.

Outside, a towering giant held a lantern and shouted loudly:

“...Sorry, Harry, I don’t have time to explain more now—first-year students, this way!”

Neville, who had already disembarked, was beside him, waving frantically at Silven and Hermione.

“Over here, hurry!”

“Neville…” Hermione hurried over and asked, “Have you found your toad?”

“No.” Neville’s face instantly fell. “I’ve asked every compartment—everyone says they haven’t seen Leo…”

“Maybe it’s hiding somewhere out of sight,” Hermione said. “Don’t worry, I’ll go find the conductor and ask him to help look while he’s moving luggage. The train isn’t that big—it must be somewhere.”

“Thank you, Hermione.” Neville was so moved he nearly cried.

He truly was moved—this was the first time in his life a stranger had been willing to help him like this.

But before they could act, a shrill cat yowl drew everyone’s attention.

On the other side of the crowd, Silven gripped his pet by the scruff of its neck, forcibly pulling out from its mouth—

A toad?

At that moment, a lantern appeared above them.

In the lantern’s light, Neville clearly saw the toad’s appearance.

“Leo!” he cried joyfully, sprinting over and taking the toad from Silven’s hand.

“Thank you!”

“Don’t mention it.” Silven shook his head. He was about to say more, but Hagrid had arrived.

The eleven-foot giant delivered an overwhelming impact; all eyes turned to him, including Neville’s.

Silven said nothing more.

Under Hagrid’s guidance, the group began stumbling forward.

Silven walked at the back, staring at Tom, his pet, whose face clearly showed defiance.

“I’m not trying to steal your prey,” Silven said, regardless of whether Tom could understand.

“...But Leo is also a pet. Strictly speaking, you two are half-colleagues. Personally, I consider eating a colleague a very rude act.”

“Aow!” Tom howled.

“You agree, right?” Silven muttered to himself, stroking Tom’s head.

Tom froze, utterly bewildered—when had she agreed? She had just been cursing.

That was her prey!

Caught from the roadside grass—how was that a colleague?

Even if it were a colleague, she’d eaten plenty back at the pet shop. If you counted her value, she was worth at least fifteen Galleons.

Unfortunately, Silven couldn’t understand her; he kept talking to himself.

“Before we reach the castle, let’s make a deal—no eating colleagues, okay?”

“Aow!”

“If you eat one, I’ll have to pay compensation—you know I don’t have many Galleons, and they’re all earmarked for other uses…”

“Ugh… Aow!” She struggled harder.

“Of course, if you refuse to change, I’ll have to cut costs elsewhere… like trying to substitute the wand core with a half-blood magical creature.”

Silven suddenly narrowed his eyes. “I recall the owls at Eeylops have some cat-fox blood, which is why they’re so clever. You probably do too.”

“Mew~”

The pressure on his wrist suddenly lightened, followed by a soft, wet sensation.

Looking down, Tom—who had been thrashing violently—was now docile, gently licking his hand, her vocalizations now resembling a normal cat’s purr.

Still a bit rough, as if trying to purr but failing to get it right.

But none of that mattered.

“Good Tom…” Silven smiled, stroking the cat’s head. “I knew you’d understand me.”

(End of Chapter)