Chapter 13

[Chapter Size: 1800 Words.]

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The door swung open, and a red-haired head peeked inside.

The boy appeared slightly older than Harry and the others, with bright red hair and a few freckles scattered across his face.

Harry had a vague recollection of him. He was one of the four red-haired boys from the family that had last entered the platform, a memory etched in Harry's mind. Judging by his features, he seemed to be one of the twins.

"Hey, Neville. Hello, dear first-years," the red-haired boy greeted, glancing around the carriage. It was clear that he knew Neville.

"Hi..." Neville hesitated.

"I'm George." The boy laughed and closed the door behind him. "He's not here. But look, Neville Longbottom is."

"It's not here either!" a nearly identical voice chimed in. "Could Madame Malkin have lied to us? We've searched almost everywhere, could he be hiding in the bathroom?"

"Or in the prefects' compartment? Maybe one of them took him in?"

Their voices faded as they walked away.

"Who was that?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"Ah? Oh, George..." Neville was unwrapping another Chocolate Frog. This time, the frog leaped onto the table but quickly stopped moving. Neville grabbed it and popped it straight into his mouth. After hearing Hermione's question, he hastily chewed and swallowed before replying.

"George Weasley. Well, it could've been Fred Weasley too. They're twins and love playing tricks. I can never tell them apart," Neville admitted. "But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are really nice people..."

"They're all from wizarding families?" Hermione asked, frowning slightly. "Weasley, Weasley... I think I've read that name before."

"Really?" Neville sounded uncertain. "My Uncle Algie once mentioned that the Weasleys are an old wizarding family."

Neville's words were incomplete. What his uncle had actually said was that the Weasleys, like the Longbottoms and the Blacks, were all part of ancient wizarding lineages.

"I wonder who they're looking for?" Neville mused.

"Maybe I have an idea." Hermione glanced at Harry beside her, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"By the way, Neville, what are you unwrapping?" Harry asked, stuffing the rest of a pumpkin pasty into his mouth, deliberately changing the subject.

Of course, he was also curious about what Neville was doing.

By now, Neville had already opened five Chocolate Frogs. However, he had only eaten two, leaving the others on the table. Instead, he seemed far more interested in the small cards he pulled from the packages.

Since Harry was paying, Neville hadn't bought any pumpkin pasties. Instead, he had purchased six Chocolate Frogs, opened five, but hadn't even touched the nine that Harry had bought.

"Oh, I forgot again." Neville smacked his forehead and handed over one of the cards in his hand.

"They're wizard cards, each one features a famous and powerful wizard. I think there are over 500 in total, but I only have a little over 300. I heard from George that his younger brother, Ron, who should also be starting this year, has nearly all 500."

At the mention of the 500 cards, Neville's face betrayed a hint of envy.

Harry took the cards, and Hermione leaned in to examine them.

Each of the five cards featured a three-dimensional portrait of a wizard, with their names elegantly inscribed beneath them.

The five cards were Bridget Wenlock, Vlad Dracul, Bowman Wright, Mungo Bonham, and Paracelsus. The last name was abbreviated, the full name was too long to fit on the front. The description on the back identified him as a distinguished master of alchemy.

It reminded Harry of how he and Dudley used to collect sports cards. However, while Harry collected baseball, basketball, and football cards, Dudley had focused on basketball and rugby.

Harry's old collection was now locked away in a small box under his bed on Privet Drive.

Seeing the intricately designed wizard cards, Harry, who had always enjoyed collecting things, felt a surge of interest. If there were only 500 of these, they seemed much easier to collect than the countless sports cards he used to chase after.

As Harry considered this, he flipped over one of the cards and was surprised to find that two of the wizards had disappeared from their portraits.

"I know why," Hermione said quickly, eager to answer before Harry could even ask.

"In magical photos, the people in the pictures move, and sometimes, they leave their frames to visit other places. That's why you'll often find characters missing or completely different in magical paintings and photographs."

"That's amazing," Harry said, genuinely impressed. Like him, Hermione had only recently been introduced to the wizarding world, but she already seemed to know far more than he did. It made him feel embarrassingly inadequate, like he was falling behind.

Hermione wrinkled her nose proudly, looking like a smug little squirrel.

After returning Neville's five cards, Harry opened one of his own Chocolate Frogs. The moment he lifted the lid, the frog sprang out, landed right next to Hermione's cup, and plunged straight into her drink.

The Chocolate Frog, clearly not designed for swimming, sank almost immediately.

"Sorry." Harry smiled apologetically at Hermione, but she didn't seem to mind at all. Instead, she was eagerly waiting to see Harry's card.

Harry had received nine different cards, which made his collection seem surprisingly easy to build. If the trolley witch had come around again, he might have bought more.

Among the nine cards, there were two that intrigued Harry the most. Surprisingly, they weren't Merlin, the most famous wizard in Britain, or his longtime rival, Morgana, but rather Dumbledore and Cliodna.

The reason for the first was obvious, he was the headmaster of the magical school they were about to attend, and every book Harry had bought described him as a flawless man. When Harry looked at his long white beard, he couldn't help but think of an old wizard he had once seen in a dream, and a faint sense of awe crept over him.

As for Cliodna, well that was a little harder to explain.

The legendary goddess of the "Promised Land," widely known even in the Muggle world, was described on the card as a follower of Druidism. But that wasn't what caught Harry's attention. Nor was it the fact that the stunningly beautiful woman depicted on the card had been picking her nose at the exact moment he pulled it from the box.

What really stood out to him was her outfit.

It looked almost like a druid's robe, seemingly woven from grass and leaves, which did a rather thorough job of displaying the figure of the legendary goddess. Harry wondered if changing the angle of the card would reveal something even more unique.

But with Hermione sitting right next to him, he decided against testing that theory.

"Huh? Where's Trevor?" Neville suddenly remembered his toad and looked around.

"It's... huh?" Harry had been about to say that it was right under Neville's feet, but when he glanced down, Trevor—who had been lying motionless just a moment ago—was gone.

The three of them got down on their hands and knees, carefully checking under the seats, but there was no sign of the toad.

"This isn't the first time," Neville grumbled. "Trevor always seems to want to escape. He gets lost all the time."

"Don't worry," Hermione reassured him. "He's probably just hopped into another compartment. Let's go look for him together."

Harry, however, had a different thought.

Of course, that wasn't the kind of thing he could say out loud, especially with Neville looking like he was about to cry. So, instead, he helped Hermione comfort their new friend and set off with them to find the missing toad.

Hermione was one of those people.

That was the impression Harry had of her in that moment. Even for someone like him, who was usually up for all sorts of mischief, the idea of knocking on every compartment door just to ask about a toad was a little embarrassing. But Hermione? She had no hesitation.

Even when they stumbled across older students in some compartments, hugging and whispering to each other, Hermione didn't seem fazed at all.

Unfortunately, after asking around, no one had seen Trevor. Neville's face grew more and more crestfallen, and Harry, who had found the situation amusing at first, began to feel bad for him.

Finally, they reached the last compartment. As Harry knocked, he raised an eyebrow slightly.

Inside, there was only one boy.

He had red hair, pale skin, and a face full of freckles. Harry was fairly certain he had been one of the last people to step onto the platform with the Weasley twins, probably the youngest of the brothers.

If Neville was right, that meant his name was Ron. And if George had been telling the truth, this kid owned nearly five hundred wizard cards.

But that wasn't what made Harry lift his eyebrows.

Ron was sitting alone at the edge of the table, playing chess. But it was obvious that he was playing against himself. An unfinished sandwich rested beside him.

"Excuse me, have you seen a toad? Neville's toad is missing," Hermione asked.

"N-no... I haven't." The red-haired boy was clearly startled by the sudden arrival of three people in his compartment, and he stammered as he answered.

"Come on, you're leading a battle here, at least try to take it seriously!" a knight-shaped chess piece on horseback grumbled. "Septimus would never play like this!"

"Is this wizard's chess?" Hermione's eyes suddenly lit up, momentarily setting aside her concern for Trevor. She stepped up to the table, her curiosity piqued by the intricate, though somewhat worn, chess pieces.

"I read in a book that an important part of wizard's chess is that the pieces have to trust their player, right?"

"Uh… y-yeah…" The red-haired boy seemed surprised by how much Hermione knew. His face even turned a little red as she leaned in close, inspecting the board with great interest.

Harry, watching this unfold, suddenly felt entertained.

"Now this is interesting."

Feeling playful, Harry casually strolled over and pretended to be just as fascinated. But instead of standing, he deliberately sat down right next to the red-haired boy. Very close.

Suddenly, the boy's entire face turned as red as his hair. Even his ears went pink. And then…

"Can the chess pieces move on their own?" Harry asked, his voice deliberately low and rough.

The sound nearly made Ron fall right out of his seat.

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