“Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost one,” called a brown-eyed girl with a tangle of bushy hair as she stood at the compartment door. The name “Neville” instantly caught my attention. So, he’s on the train already. I glanced at the girl and, with a whisper of magic, sought her true name. Hermione Granger, it revealed. I had found another key figure sooner than expected. Was this where the fated group of four would first meet?

  “No, I haven’t seen a toad…” I replied, watching her reaction.

  She looked at me with sudden recognition. “Wait! Are you Benjamin Diggory?”

  Caught slightly off guard, I nodded. “I am… why?”

  “You’re the youngest wizard in modern history to attend Hogwarts! I read an article about you in the Daily Prophet,” she explained, her eyes wide with excitement.

  I grimaced. “I read that article, too. They got most of it wrong. They claimed I was two years younger than I am and made up all sorts of powers I don’t have.” I kept my tone casual, hiding the satisfaction of knowing I possessed other powers that were far more dangerous—and thankfully unknown to the wizarding public.

  Hermione tilted her head curiously. “Then, how old are you?”

  “I just turned nine in August,” I said, noticing Ron shake his head in disbelief.

  “Blimey! I thought you were just small for your age. If my sister Ginny knew about you, she’d be kicking up a storm! She’s a year older than you, and Mum wouldn’t even let her try for an early start,” he chuckled.

  Hermione, still fascinated, turned her attention to the wand in Ron’s hand. “Oh, are you going to do magic?” she asked eagerly, sitting down across from him with an expectant smile.

  Ron looked flustered but cleared his throat and raised his wand. “Ahem… Daisies, sunshine, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!” he chanted.

  Hermione and I winced in unison, sensing the spell’s improvised nature. When nothing happened, she arched an eyebrow, her tone slightly condescending. “Are you sure that’s a real spell? Well… it’s not very good, is it?”

  Ron’s ears turned pink, but before he could retort, I interjected, “His brothers are two of the worst pranksters in the wizarding community. They probably gave it to him as a joke before he got on the train. Let’s cut him some slack.”

  Hermione blinked, taken aback. “Why would his brothers do that?”

  “You must be an only child,” I said, smiling slightly. “Sometimes siblings mess with each other; it’s called sibling rivalry.”

  “Oh… well, I managed to learn a few real spells already,” Hermione continued, clearly expecting admiration. “I even memorized how to fix eyeglasses, and I’ve read all the first-year textbooks.”

  I glanced at Ron, who shrugged with a “Who does that?” expression. “I know a spell for invisibility,” I said, hoping to shift the topic from Hermione’s self-praise and Ron’s embarrassment.

  Hermione’s jaw dropped. “You mean you’ve learned it already?” Even Ron looked impressed.

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  “Well… I think I have, though I haven’t cast it yet,” I said modestly.

  Hermione’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I want to see it! Please?”

  Her expression was so eager that I relented. “Alright, just give me a bit of space,” I said, making sure I had enough room to perform the spell.

  Taking a breath, I focused my energy and chanted, “Invisibilia Aorat!”

  In a blink, I vanished from sight. The astonished gasps from both of them were satisfying, confirming the spell’s success.

  “You… you cast it without a wand!” Hermione breathed, awe-struck.

  Dispelling the charm, I returned to visibility. “Yes, I did.”

  “How is that possible?” she asked, her tone laced with both wonder and confusion.

  “It’s all just magic,” I replied with a shrug. “A wand draws power from around you, but casting directly from yourself draws on your internal reserves. It’s not as powerful, but it works without a wand.”

  “That’s fascinating! I’ve read so many books, but none of them mentioned that” Hermione gushed, her face lighting up with excitement.

  “It’s an old technique,” I explained, leaning back. “Considered obsolete, so no one uses it anymore—except me. It’s useful in situations where you might not have your wand.”

  Ron gave a low whistle. “Blimey… I only got my wand a few months ago, and I can’t imagine going without it now.”

  Hermione nodded in agreement, her face a mix of fascination and slight fear at the thought.

  “Are your parents famous wizards? Do they expect a lot from you?” I asked.

  “No, they’re not magical at all,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as though trying to gauge my intent.

  I met her gaze evenly. “You’re probably not the only one in that position. Lots of wizarding families already know each other, and there’s… well, prejudice. It’s common for kids to pick on those who are different—the unusually young, the poor, and those not of ‘proper’ breeding.” I let my gaze flick briefly between Ron and Hermione, hoping to build rapport through shared outcast status. I had the sense that both needed reassurance.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione demanded a flicker of defensiveness in her voice.

  I raised my hands in a gesture of peace. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that wizarding families can be… particular. The pure-blood lineages, the expectations—coming from a non-magical family can be challenging, to say the least.”

  “Are you saying we’re all outcasts?” Hermione asked, frowning.

  “Not exactly. Just that, no matter what house we’re sorted into, we should stick together,” I replied calmly. “We might each be the best in our own way, but I can’t fight a dozen wizards by myself. In a physical fight, they’d all have the advantage over me.” I allowed my voice to tremble slightly, feigning vulnerability, my eyes just moist enough to suggest I was worried about potential bullying.

  Hermione softened, nodding in understanding. “I’m sorry… I just assumed…” She straightened, her tone resolute. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure no one bullies you.”

  “Me too,” Ron added, his expression fierce. “No one hurts my friends without getting through me first!”

  There it is, I thought. A true Gryffindor. For all his bluster, Ron had a fierce loyalty that would serve him well.

  Hermione tilted her head thoughtfully. “So, which house are you hoping for? I hear Gryffindor is the best, but Ravenclaw sounds nice, too.”

  “Ravenclaw is my preference,” I answered truthfully.

  “Gryffindor, like all my brothers,” Ron said proudly, grinning.

  Hermione nodded, looking contemplative. “Then, there’s a good chance I’ll end up with at least one of you…”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said with a reassuring smile. “We can still be friends even if we’re in different houses.”

  She seemed relieved, her confidence returning. “Regardless, you’ll have to teach me that no-wand casting technique.”

  “Sure,” I agreed, amused by her determination. “I was planning to teach Ron the invisibility spell, too. Maybe we can make it a study group?”

  Hermione’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands. “Yes! I’d love that.”

  Ron looked a bit panicked, either at the idea of spending extra time with Hermione or the thought of additional study sessions.

  After a moment, Hermione excused herself to continue searching for Neville’s toad. I’d have to find a way to meet Neville soon—he was the final piece of the puzzle.

  As I leaned back, savoring the successful beginnings of these alliances, a voice called down the corridor, “Get your robes on, we’re almost there!”

  A wave of anticipation washed over me as I reached for my robes. Soon, I would set foot in Hogwarts, my plans and alliances in motion. It was time to take the next step toward my purpose, and, surrounded by my new companions, I felt more prepared than ever.