A Certain Magical Hogwarts

As they walked back, everyone was in high spirits.

William had lined up several big orders and felt satisfied; Neville was thrilled too, having had his first taste of standing up to Malfoy—even if he'd spent more time sprawled on top of Harry and gotten bitten by a rat.

But Neville's good mood didn't last long. Hermione informed him that rats carried diseases, including hantavirus and other nasty infections.

Neville's face turned pale, and he anxiously checked his ankle for any sign of a rat bite.

"It's fine, Neville," William reassured him. "That rat's a pet; otherwise, Percy and Ron would've gotten sick ages ago."

"But rats still roam around. What if it got bitten by a wild rat?" Hermione argued.

"I know of several cases," she added with great seriousness, "all listed in the Encyclopedia Britannica. One boy was only eleven, and he—"

Using her prodigious memory, Hermione rattled off several examples of disease transmission, leaving Neville even paler.

But since his ankle showed no wounds, he anxiously showed them a swollen red bump on his hand.

"Could this be from that rat?"

"Neville, the rat only bit your ankle," William sighed.

"Maybe it spread!" Hermione insisted. "We can't rule that out, William! I happen to know of several cases. One boy was only eleven…"

William tapped her head lightly; this girl always "happened to know" just a little too much.

"But this bite is red and swollen, and my hand itches terribly," Neville complained.

William took a serious look at the small red bump, pretending to adjust a non-existent pair of glasses.

"Neville, with all my clinical expertise, I'd say that's just a mosquito bite."

Hermione leaned in, inspecting it closely. "It does look like one…"

Finally, Neville's panic began to subside.

But then Hermione's eyes went wide with worry again. "Wait, mosquitoes also carry diseases, like yellow fever! I happen to know of several cases. There was this one boy…"

Neville's brief relief plummeted into a new pit of dread.

After several minutes of consolation from William and Hermione, he finally convinced himself he'd be okay.

To further reassure him, William pulled out a small bottle of water, pretended it was a potion, and dabbed it on Neville's hand.

Only then did Neville truly calm down.

Hermione was quite pleased with herself. After today, she'd realized she wasn't falling behind; it was just that the few friends she'd made were exceptionally skilled, making her feel less capable by comparison.

William didn't try to correct Hermione's tendency to show off her knowledge. Everyone had their own quirks to their personality, and there was no need to change it.

Better to be yourself than to conform to others' expectations.

As for whether Hermione would grow out of this?

William was sure she would—especially with the ever-helpful Professor Snape around. He'd help Hermione mature quickly.

It would be an interesting experience.

For Snape, at least.

As they walked, Hermione asked curiously, "William, how do we get sorted into our houses?"

Neville perked up, listening attentively. It was the question on every new student's mind.

William shrugged with a grin. "I won't spoil it for you. You don't need to know everything before school starts. It's an annual tradition, after all."

"Alright," Hermione replied confidently. "I'm ready for anything."

She had memorized so many spells that she felt prepared, whatever the challenge might be.

"Which house do you hope for?" William asked them both.

"I'd like Gryffindor, but I have a feeling I'll end up in Hufflepuff," Neville said uncertainly.

"That's a common misconception. There's nothing wrong with Hufflepuff," William replied seriously. "All houses are equal, really. Take Cedric, for instance—he's a Hufflepuff and the top student in his year. I don't believe in the idea that one house is 'best.'"

"Really?" William's words lifted Neville's spirits a little.

"And what about you, Hermione?" William asked. "Which house do you hope for?"

"I'm not sure," she replied thoughtfully. "I'd like Ravenclaw because it's full of people who love learning. But Gryffindor would be good too. I read that Headmaster Dumbledore was in Gryffindor…"

"Oh, and I heard there's going to be a surprise at the feast," William said with a mysterious smile.

"What surprise?"

"Secret."

The train sped on, and by nightfall, they finally arrived at their destination.

Everyone piled off the train, following the crowd along the platform.

A lantern bobbed over their heads as Hagrid called out, "First years! First years over here! Hey, William, got your gift! Loved it! See you at the feast! Oh, Harry! Over here, lad, how are you?"

The first years followed Hagrid down a path, while the older students headed in a different direction.

At the end of the lamplit path, at least a hundred carriages stood waiting.

Each carriage was drawn by a creature, skeletal and lean, with black skin clinging to its bones, making every bone visible.

Their heads resembled dragons, with eerie white, pupil-less eyes staring straight ahead. Large, black, leathery wings rose from their shoulder blades.

The creatures stood silently in the deepening twilight, exuding a strange and unsettling aura.

"On Merlin's beard, Thestrals!" William exclaimed, rubbing his hands together with excitement. This was his first time seeing the rare magical beasts.

Using them as carriage-drawers… so extravagant.

It was like putting a BMW engine in a tractor—an impressive waste.

William stared at the Thestrals curiously, even raising his wand as if he might poke one.

"You can see them?" Cedric asked in astonishment.

"Oh, yes, I think…" William was unsure whether it was due to seeing Tywin's death in the time loop or the goblin's death at Gringotts.

Only those who had witnessed death could see Thestrals, hence their reputation as omens, like crows circling over death.

The group climbed into the dark carriage, which began moving automatically, bumping along the path. The interior smelled faintly of must and straw.

Alright, calling this a "tractor" was being generous. It was more like a pedal-powered tricycle.

Inside, Cedric leaned in toward William with a hopeful look.

"William, do you think… you know…"

William crossed his arms defensively, giving Cedric a wary look.

Cho was staring at Cedric too, her expression bemused.

"Not like that! The Thestral tail feathers—they're incredibly rare wand cores. Could you, maybe, grab a few for me?"

William glanced out at the Thestral's scrawny frame. The poor creature didn't have much to begin with, relying on its few wispy feathers for warmth. Cedric was asking him to pull out an entire… bunch?

What did he think it was—a head of cabbage?

"Why don't you do it yourself?"

"Because I can't see them! If I could, I wouldn't be asking you."

At that moment, the Thestral pulling their carriage suddenly stopped.

It blinked its eerie white eyes, turning its head to observe their "secret" conversation, as if it understood every word.

Now this was awkward.

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