Chapter 521: Meeting

Wizard Sean was the first to board the train, Professor McGonagall’s gaze fixed on it the whole time.

Only when the young wizards’ figures flashed past the windows did Professor McGonagall calmly vanish from the station.

Where she disappeared, beside the third pillar, Mrs. Wei Wei Silai hugged Harry one extra time—Harry felt a little embarrassed, but inwardly delighted.

“Take good care of yourself, all right, Harry?”

She straightened up, her eyes glinting with an odd light.

She opened her enormous handbag and said:

“I made sandwiches for all of you. Remember to give this one to Green’s boy…”

“It’s strange, he’s always with Professor McGonagall…”

“Here, Harry, and you, Ron… no, not the corned beef one… Fred? Where’s Fred? Here, dear…”

“Harry,”

Mr. Wei Wei Silai stepped closer, whispering,

“Come over here a moment.”

He nodded toward a pillar; Harry followed him behind it, while the others boarded the train, following Wizard Sean’s lead.

On the train.

Wizard Sean walked down the aisle; they weren’t late, but most compartments were already full—except those at the rear.

“Wizard Sean—could you slow down a bit—”

Jia Jia Siting was the first to catch up, beside him carrying a pet basket with Hermione.

Wizard Sean paused, and together with Jia Jia Siting and Hermione, they entered the compartment.

The compartment held only one person: a man asleep by the window.

Jia Jia Siting and Hermione stood at the doorway and glanced inside.

The Hogwarts Express was normally for students alone; besides the witch pushing the snack cart, they had never seen another adult on board.

The stranger wore a neat wizard’s robe, but several patches mended its fabric.

He looked ill, utterly drained of strength.

Though his face was still young, his light brown hair was already streaked with gray.

“Hmm… who is he?”

Hermione whispered, as they slid the door shut and took seats farthest from the window.

“Our shopkeeper.”

Jia Jia Siting said happily.

“What shopkeeper?”

Hermione was baffled.

Before Jia Jia Siting could answer, Harry, Ron, and Neville burst in.

“Everyone’s here!”

Ron said cheerfully.

The Hogwarts Express carriages were wide; though cramped for six young wizards, there was room enough for Ron and the others to wait briefly in the adjacent compartment.

“Your sandwiches.”

Harry remembered Mrs. Wei Wei Silai’s instructions.

“Steak sandwich, thank you, Harry.”

Jia Jia Siting accepted it gladly.

“Blueberry…”

Hermione peered inside happily.

All eyes turned to Wizard Sean—his sandwich was unmistakably shaped like a pumpkin pie.

Wizard Sean carefully tucked the sandwich away.

“Who is he?”

Ron noticed the sleeping wizard.

“R.J. Lupin.”

Jia Jia Siting whispered immediately.

“How do you know?”

Ron asked curiously.

Hermione was puzzled too—hadn’t she just heard “shopkeeper”?

But she did recall Jia Jia Siting and Wizard Sean ran a bookshop, where the old shopkeeper rarely appeared, yet often spent days mending shelves in a hooded robe.

Rumor had it he was leaving soon—evidenced by his intense interviews with new wizard applicants for the position.

Hermione had also heard his standards were terrifying…

“He’s the Green Bookshop…”

Hermione answered instinctively.

“His trunk says so.”

But Jia Jia Siting pointed to the luggage rack above the man’s head.

There sat a battered little trunk, bound with many ropes, each knot neatly tied; the name R.J. Lupin was printed on one corner, the letters slightly faded.

The trunk looked ready to fall apart, yet entwined with magical vines that tightened whenever the train’s shaking distorted its shape—as if alive.

No one knew who had cast the transfiguration.

Except Lupin himself… and…

“Oh, Wizard Sean, look—what an amazing transfiguration…

I know you did it. I mean, that’s unfair.”

Jia Jia Siting whispered, feigning mild resentment.

“You don’t have a broken trunk.”

Wizard Sean said.

“I could have one.”

Jia Jia Siting’s eyes lit up.

“Come on—”

Hermione couldn’t take it anymore.

“I wonder what subject he’ll teach?”

Ron stared curiously at Lupin’s lifeless form.

“Obviously,”

Hermione whispered,

“There’s only one vacancy, isn’t there? Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

The young wizards had already had two Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, both gone after just one year.

Rumor—spread by Hagrid—claimed the position was cursed.

“Well, I hope he can handle it.”

Ron said skeptically,

“Look at him—he couldn’t even stand up to a powerful witch, could he…”

Even Hermione frowned.

They’d gone through great trouble to rid themselves of Lockhart the fraud; now their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was a bookstore keeper—hardly convincing.

“Wizard Sean…”

Faced with uncertainty, Hermione turned to the young wizard.

“Mr. Lupin has ample ability.”

Wizard Sean said.

“Oh?”

Hermione was pleasantly surprised; she was about to ask more when Ron interrupted.

“Wizard Sean, can you go to Hogsmeade? If we’re all together,”

Ron said eagerly to Wizard Sean,

“Black wouldn’t dare—”

“For heaven’s sake, Ron, stop talking nonsense.”

Hermione glared at him, irritated,

“Black once killed a crowd in a crowded street—do you really think having us around would stop him?”

As she spoke, she fiddled with the straps of Crookshanks’ willow basket.

“Stop! Stop! You’re going to open it—don’t let that thing out!”

Ron said, but it was too late.

Crookshanks leapt nimbly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron’s lap.

The bulge in Ron’s pocket trembled; he angrily shoved Crookshanks off.

“Get lost!”

“Ron!”

Hermione said angrily.

Ron was about to reply when Professor Lupin stirred suddenly. They watched him anxiously, but he merely turned his head to the other side, mouth slightly open, and continued sleeping.

The Hogwarts Express traveled northward, and the scenery outside the window grew increasingly desolate.

As the high-altitude clouds thickened, the sky gradually darkened.