With help from the cat squad, the toad finally let out a loud croak.
"Found it!" Harri cried in delight, dropping to her knees to peer under the seat. "It really is under there!"
Ron hurriedly crouched down as well and awkwardly grabbed the struggling toad. "Trevor! Hold still!"
After a brief bout of chaos, Ron finally straightened up again, his clothes covered in dust.
"Thanks!" he said, carefully holding the toad in both hands. "Neville'll be dead happy."
Hermione immediately gave Nox the credit. "It was all Nox's doing!"
Ron looked at Nox with obvious envy. "It's brilliant… way better than my Scabbers."
As he spoke, he pulled a sickly-looking old rat out of his pocket. "See? All he ever does is sleep."
Nox's ears shot upright at once. Its amber eyes locked onto the rat in Ron's hands, tail stiffening dangerously as its body lowered into a hunting crouch.
Vera caught the change immediately and called softly, "Nox. Come here."
Only then did Nox reluctantly return to her side, though its eyes remained fixed on Ron's rat.
Ron seemed not to notice the detail at all and kept rambling on about Scabbers' "glorious history."
"…He's been in our family for eleven years. He used to belong to my brother Percy, and now he's mine…"
Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "Eleven years? Ordinary rats don't live anywhere near that long!"
Ron shrugged. "Mum says he might've eaten something magical."
Vera glanced at the rat, her fingers gently stroking Nox's fur until the cat gradually calmed down.
A moment later, a round-faced boy timidly poked his head into the compartment.
"Ron? Did you find Trevor?"
"He's right here, Neville!" Ron held up the toad. "Thanks to this smart cat."
Relief immediately bloomed across Neville's face. "Thank goodness! I've searched six compartments already…"
His gaze swept across the people inside. When he saw Harri, he froze for a second—then noticed Vera's wheelchair, and his expression became even more nervous.
"Er… hello. I'm Neville Longbottom," he introduced himself in a small voice.
Hermione warmly greeted him and went ahead and introduced both Vera and Harri too.
The unexpected part was that, at first, hearing Harri Potter's name made Neville react much like Ron had, with a burst of excitement—but the instant he heard Vera's surname, his face suddenly went pale.
"B-Black?" He took an involuntary step back, lips trembling slightly. "My gran said… the one sent to Azkaban…"
His words abruptly caught in his throat, and his face turned even paler.
The atmosphere inside the compartment instantly grew heavy.
Vera's lashes trembled faintly. She remembered that Neville's parents had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix's Cruciatus Curse.
Add Sirius, who was still in prison, and her convenient father Regulus…
If Voldemort were still around, then she would practically look like a textbook Death Eater-in-training.
Neville's reaction was only natural.
"What the rest of the Black family did has nothing to do with me."
Her voice was very soft. Nox let out a low rumble in her lap, as though backing up its mistress's statement.
Ron scratched the back of his head and shot Neville an awkward look.
Neville stood there at a total loss, his face burning red. "I—I didn't mean it like that."
"You don't need to apologize. This isn't your fault." Vera shook her head lightly, sunlight dancing across her silver-gray hair through the glass. "It's getting late. You should head back to your own compartment and have lunch."
That unmistakable dismissal felt like a pardon to both Ron and Neville. The two boys mumbled hurried farewells and quickly left the compartment.
Once the door closed behind them, Hermione awkwardly cleared her throat. "I don't think they meant to offend you…"
Harri immediately moved to sit beside Vera, her green eyes full of concern. "Vera, are you okay?"
Vera drew back her gaze and said softly, "I'm fine."
After all, this was Bellatrix's sin. As her relative… all one could say was that she'd inherited a mess.
Sensing the low mood in the compartment, Hermione clutched the book in her hands and quickly changed the subject.
"By the way—what house do you think you'll be sorted into?
"I looked it up. Hogwarts has four houses: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff."
Harri was immediately distracted by the topic. "I honestly don't know the difference between them… Hagrid said Gryffindor was the best, but he never really explained how the Sorting works."
"The books don't seem to describe it in detail either." Hermione frowned nervously. "Honestly, to prepare for it, I learned several simple spells in advance. I just don't know whether that'll be enough."
"Ron—well, when I came in with them from the platform," Harri said suddenly, her expression turning somewhat uneasy, "I overheard his brothers saying that for the Sorting… we might have to wrestle a troll."
Hermione sucked in a breath, her face instantly going white. "What? But we're only first-years!"
Vera sat quietly to one side, watching them without saying anything.
Most witches and wizards deliberately kept the Sorting Ceremony a secret in order to give first-years a better experience.
Vera had no intention of spoiling it here either.
"All right," Hermione said after swallowing nervously, "putting the method aside—which house do you want to be in?"
Harri shook her head. "I only know that my parents were both in Gryffindor."
"The Black family tradition," Vera said calmly, her gaze drifting to the scenery flashing past the window, "is Slytherin for nearly every generation, with a very small number of exceptions."
As for those "exceptions," Sirius naturally came to mind.
Harri's expression dimmed for a brief moment.
Picking up on the shift in her mood, Vera let out a soft sigh and added quietly, "Though… not necessarily. Sometimes personal choice matters more."
That seemed to comfort Harri somehow. She lifted her head at once, and the light returned to her green eyes.
Vera paused, then turned her face toward the window with a trace of discomfort.
As they spoke, the smell of food drifted into the compartment. The witch pushing the snack trolley knocked on the door.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?"
Harri's eyes lit up instantly. She turned to Vera. "Want anything? My treat!"
Vera shook her head. "I'm not hungry."
But Harri was already excitedly pulling out a handful of silver Sickles.
"I'll take this! And that! Oh—and those Chocolate Frogs look good too!"
She returned to her seat carrying an armful of sweets and set them down generously on the empty seat to share.
Vera looked at the little mountain of snacks in front of her and raised a brow. "You bought all this?"
Harri scratched her hair sheepishly. "Actually… this is the first time I've ever been allowed to decide for myself what snacks to buy. My aunt and uncle never let me have any of this stuff."
Vera frowned before she could stop herself, then tried to steady her voice.
"Now, you can eat whatever you like."
.....
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