The Hogwarts Express had already begun to slow down following the collision.
Not even waiting for the train to come to a complete stop, Julien was the first one out the door.
His robes whipped violently in the slipstream, his wand firmly in hand, ready to respond to any danger.
Then, he saw two figures awkwardly clambering out of the deformed doors of the Ford Anglia. They were covered in soot and their hair was singed black, yet miraculously, they appeared uninjured.
"Ron! Harry!" Ginny and Hermione threw themselves forward from behind Julien, their eyes red. "You—you—"
"We're fine," Harry's voice was hoarse, but carried an irrepressible thrill. "Ron's flying was brilliant—"
"You... you're okay... You two are absolutely unbelievable, sob!" Hermione, who had spent the latter half of the train ride comforting Ginny, finally broke down crying herself.
"Oh no, my wand," Ron wailed, holding up a wand snapped clean in two. "It—it's broken—"
(Julien: Good riddance.)
By now, students were pouring off the train, quickly surrounding Harry and Ron.
Some clapped them on the shoulders, some loudly demanded details about the flying car, and others—like Lee Jordan—were already drafting their broadcasting scripts for tomorrow.
The Weasley twins shoved their way to the front. After looking Ron up and down to ensure he was unhurt, they clapped him on the shoulders. "Gotta admit, mate, this is the first time you've ever actually impressed us!"
"That was wicked!" a second-year student shrieked. "You flew a car and outran Dark Wizards!"
"Hey, Harry, look over here! Click."
"I saw Aurors just now! Real Aurors!"
"Look out, here comes a professor!"
The crowd turned to see Professor McGonagall and a giant black bat storming toward them.
"Gentlemen, who would like to explain to me exactly what happened here?!" Professor McGonagall glared fiercely at Harry and Ron.
"Mr. Creevey, put that camera away!"
This time, Professor McGonagall was genuinely shocked and furious. After receiving the urgent missive from the Ministry of Magic, she had practically dragged Snape out of the castle to rush down here.
Seeing that the two boys were unharmed, she breathed a sigh of relief, but that relief instantly morphed into rage. Gryffindor students had a long history of causing trouble, but never in her life had she seen a disaster of this magnitude.
"Professor McGonagall, we... we couldn't get onto the platform..." Harry and Ron mumbled their excuses.
"Could you not have contacted your parents?!"
—"Clearly, they lack the intellectual capacity for such a thought."
"Could you not have written a letter to a professor?!"
—"Frankly speaking, they have never held their professors in any regard."
"Could you not have gone to Diagon Alley for help?!"
—"Therefore, intelligence is a wonderful gift, but sadly, it is one they do not possess."
Professor McGonagall shot Snape a withering glare, silently telling him that this was a Gryffindor matter, before returning to tearing into the two boys. It was clear she wasn't going to calm down anytime soon.
Ever since the car hit the ground, Julien had noticed a black stone roll out from the wreckage.
It caught his eye because it looked like a chunk of black crystal. Apart from the grey veins running through it, it looked identical to the stone he had seen Wolfgang using on the French Riviera, only much larger.
Taking advantage of the fact that everyone's attention was focused on Professor McGonagall chewing out the "Savior," he crept over, intending to scoop it up.
"Mr. Black."
Snape's voice slithered from behind him, smooth and oily as a snake.
Julien spun around. Black robes billowing, Snape stood there, his thin lips beneath his hooked nose pressed into a cruel, unforgiving line.
Snape, who had just been standing next to Professor McGonagall, had somehow materialized right behind him.
"I noticed you... taking quite an interest in that stone."
Julien's heart skipped a beat, but his face remained perfectly composed. "Just curious, Professor. It looks... very ancient."
Snape's gaze lingered on his face for a long time, those pitch-black eyes seemingly capable of piercing through any disguise.
Finally, he gave a cold snort. "Curiosity killed the cat, Black. And it has killed... more than a few arrogant young wizards who did not know their place."
Swish! Without making physical contact, Snape used some unknown method to summon the stone directly into his sleeve.
Julien instantly remembered the Moon Shadow Council members mentioning that the stone might be radioactive. He mentally slapped himself, a wave of retrospective fear washing over him.
"The older the ginger, the spicier it gets. The older the horse, the slippier it is," Julien muttered softly.
"What did you say?!"
"I said, at the end of the day, you're the cunning—ah, I mean, experienced one."
"Let me give you a piece of advice: cleverness alone is not enough to survive in the wizarding world."
With that, Snape turned and strode away, his black robes casting a long, sweeping shadow in the setting sun.
---
The Great Hall of Hogwarts was as breathtakingly magnificent as ever.
Julien sat at the Ravenclaw table, idly toying with a silver goblet that continuously refilled itself with pumpkin juice, but his eyes were fixed on the brand-new, glittering figure sitting at the High Table.
Gilderoy Lockhart.
The "legendary" new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was seated next to Snape. He was wearing sweeping aquamarine robes adorned with lace and bows, and his smile was so dazzling it looked as if he had stitched an entire summer's worth of sunlight onto his face. He kept waving at the students, acting as though this were his own personal fan meet-and-greet.
"Is that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" Edgar pushed his glasses up his nose, his tone dripping with skepticism. "He looks like he's here for a fashion show."
"Be confident. Drop the 'looks like'," Julien said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "He is here for a fashion show."
Casen leaned in, clutching a handful of frosted cockroaches he had nicked from the kitchens. "I heard he's written loads of books. Gadding with Ghouls, Break with a Banshee, Wandering with Werewolves..."
"Sounds like a stamp collector," Julien noted. "Apparently, he's had a fling with every dark creature under the sun."
"Hehehehe."
"Ugh, you lot. Wipe those sleazy grins off your faces." Cho Chang glared at them in disgust from nearby. "Professor Lockhart is not someone to be mocked."
"From his thunderous roars while battling trolls, to his exquisite creativity while decorating a kitchen, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart's brilliance has never been bound by any limits." Cho Chang's eyes practically had heart shapes in them.
"I bet he wrote that himself."
"Julien! You just lost the last tiny shred of goodwill I had for you!"
Just then, Professor McGonagall led the first-year students into the hall in a single file. Julien immediately spotted several familiar faces in the line:
Ginny Weasley was clutching her small handbag tightly, her red hair looking like a little flame in the candlelight.
Colin Creevey was hugging an antique camera, his eyes wide as saucers, looking as if he wanted to burn every inch of the Great Hall onto film.
And then there was a girl who particularly caught Julien's eye. She was wearing robes that looked like they had been fashioned out of old curtains, and her messy blonde hair looked like a dandelion gone to seed. Yet, her eyes were startlingly clear, and she was staring unblinkingly at the floating candles near the ceiling, as if expecting a Wrackspurt to fly out at any moment—Luna Lovegood.
"Quite a few new students this year," Rosier commented to Daphne Greengrass beside her, shooting a glance at Julien from the Slytherin table. She had pinned the starburst brooch to her collar, and it stood out starkly against her silver and green robes.
Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on the stool. The tattered old hat immediately ripped open a seam like a mouth and began to sing in a wildly off-key voice:
"Oh~ you,
Don't judge me by my patches, so tattered and worn;
My brain's got a thousand years left 'til it's torn!
Gryffindor? So brave you'll set your dorms alight, claiming you were cold;
Slytherin? Ambition outweighs blood, but in danger, you do as you're told!
Ravenclaw scholars, stop praying to that old diadem before a test,
Pray to me instead—I'm the true exam bank, I'm simply the best!
As for Hufflepuff, ah, loyal and true, Employee of the Month every year,
If the Ministry ever crumbles, you'll be the ones serving tea, never fear!
But this year, I must write on the blackboard for all:
Don't just stare at the beauty rankings, don't trust the influencers' call,
The true master of the year, standing tall in the hall—
Is wearing that weird uniform you hate, quietly getting food for you all!"
"What is that supposed to mean?" Casen looked completely baffled.
"It means someone is a total fraud," Julien muttered under his breath.
"Hehehehe."
Whack! Whack! Julien received two solid, physical strikes to the head from Cho Chang's wand.