Bab 11: Chapter 11: "Holmes" and "Watson"
The entire Hogwarts Express was bathed in warm tones.
The front carriages were reserved for prefects, while the rest were for the other students. Each compartment wasn't as cramped as it looked, and the corridors were much wider than those on regular trains, allowing more than just the conductor or trolley to pass through easily.
Nietzsche counted, estimating there were about five carriages in total.
"Oh, are you talking about the Dark Lord mentioned in *20th Century Magical Events*?" Hermione immediately started making connections when Neville mentioned the 'resistance.'
"Yes, many people lost their lives because of him." Neville's expression became more uncertain, his hand frozen mid-knock, fear filling his eyes. "Even my parents… they barely survived."
Nietzsche placed a comforting hand on Neville's shoulder, his empathetic demeanor something Hermione had never seen before. In fact, if she didn't know Nietzsche well, she wouldn't have even noticed that he was acting—it was such a seamless display of compassion.
"Your parents are heroes, Neville... So, what's the deal with this Malfoy family you mentioned?"
Hermione gave a sideways glance. This familiar way of speaking was the same way Nietzsche had introduced himself when he first transferred into her class.
Neville seemed to feel better after being comforted and said with a bit of frustration:
"Hmph, the Dark Lord's lapdogs! There's a rumor in the wizarding world: even if you know a Malfoy killed someone, you'll never find their fingerprints on the murder weapon... and it's true."
Hermione thought this sounded like some sort of overarching villain, like those shadowy figures in political thrillers or sleazy lawyers skirting the edge of the law.
Neville opened another compartment door and his voice turned timid again: "Sorry... have you seen a toad? It's my pet, Trevor."
The witch inside, initially irritated by the interruption, was about to shut the door in annoyance, but when she saw the round-faced boy with Nietzsche behind him, she managed to squeeze out a smile.
Nietzsche, in his black coat, simple cane, and short dark-brown bangs that barely touched his ears, had a mature charm despite his youth. It was hard not to be charmed by a good-looking figure, no matter how much someone pretended not to care.
But Nietzsche only gave a few polite smiles, his mind already drifting elsewhere.
Hermione, growing impatient, grabbed Nietzsche's hand and pulled him back, whispering, "You can't just use him as a tool after all this."
"Isn't that your job?" Nietzsche asked, completely bewildered.
His straightforwardness hit Hermione hard. It reminded her of how her mom dealt with her dad. Without thinking, she grabbed Nietzsche by the ear.
"Nietzsche!!"
"I'm Nietzsche *Holmes*, gathering intel; you're Hermione *Granger*, assisting me. It's a flawless plan…"
"Don't talk to me like your dad talks to your mom."
Hermione stood on her toes and, like a cat, hissed softly into his ear.
"Which dad are you talking about—okay, okay, I get it!"
Neville and the others didn't notice Nietzsche's suffering. In fact, Neville even glanced over with a look of envy. After Neville awkwardly shut the compartment door, Hermione and Nietzsche returned to their previous demeanor, as if nothing had happened.
Both of them wore light smiles, making Neville wonder if what he had just seen was an illusion.
"By the way, did you guys hear? Harry Potter is starting this year too!"
Harry Potter again.
Ever since their trip to Diagon Alley two months ago, they had seen his name in newspapers, overheard wizards talking about him, and even found him mentioned in some history books.
What amused Nietzsche was that this boy, who was the subject of so much discussion among wizards, used to be bullied by his cousin.
Seeing Neville's excitement, Nietzsche asked curiously, "Why is Harry Potter known as the Boy Who Lived?"
"Merlin's beard, you don't know? Oh, right, you're Muggle-born wizards." Neville cleared his throat and said softly, "Well, it's because of Harry that the Dark Lord fell."
"Is he some kind of magical prodigy?"
"I don't know... but my gran says the Dark Lord died right after attacking his house. That's all I know."
"Isn't it possible his parents fought him off?"
Neville suddenly grew fearful, his eyes distant as though he were seeing the events unfold in front of him. He looked out the window at the clear midday sky, swallowing hard as he felt the warmth of the sunlight.
"No, Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived, the Ministry's official 'Savior.' He's the only one who survived..."
"But that was an Unforgivable Curse! No one survives black magic like that!"
This time, Nietzsche fell silent. He watched Neville's expression shift from fear and uncertainty to joy, as if he could see the Dark Lord being defeated by a baby.
Unlike others, Nietzsche didn't find much to celebrate.
"Wh-what's wrong?" Neville asked, noticing Nietzsche's hesitation after finishing the story. "Did I say something wrong?"
"Neville..."
"Yes?"
Nietzsche gently patted his shoulder and said softly, "Don't take pleasure in someone else's suffering. 'The Boy Who Lived' means Harry's parents didn't survive to be treated at St. Mungo's. At least don't congratulate him to his face."
Nietzsche and Hermione finally understood the whole situation.
This so-called "Boy Who Lived" was simply someone who survived the attack of a dark wizard… nothing more.
That scrawny kid, bullied by his cousin, was burdened with a title that was more of a curse than an honor.
And yet the entire wizarding world celebrated this tragedy as if it were something to be proud of.
Hermione, who had been merely curious before, now felt a chill down her spine after Nietzsche's remark.
The irony was overwhelming.
"But the whole magical world is celebrating..." Neville, sensing something was off but unable to fully grasp it, muttered.
Well, when he thought about it, his own joy had come from the defeat of the Dark Lord and the victory of the resistance. Maybe... Harry Potter's fame wasn't as bright as he had imagined.
"Politicians, Neville!" Nietzsche waved his hand dramatically, recalling conversations between their fathers about various cases. "Never trust everything you read in the papers."
It was just like those murder cases, falsely reported as religious killings to the public.
"You'd fit right into Ravenclaw," Neville muttered, the excitement fading.
Ultimately, they found Trevor in the third carriage. Since the toad wasn't exactly attractive, it was easy for them to track it down—few wizards would willingly hold such an ugly creature.
Inside the compartment, they found two witches: one with beautiful long hair, and the other with two golden braids.
"I saw a toad in the snack trolley when I bought lunch earlier..." one of the witches said.
"Oh, right… would you like some Chocolate Frogs?" one of them offered, sharing some of the snacks on the table.
Neville, now knowing Trevor's location, ended up being handed a whole pile of Chocolate Frogs from the compartment's witches.
As Hermione reached out to take one, Nietzsche grabbed her wrist and stopped her.
"I didn't have lunch because of you."
Hermione gave Nietzsche a strange look as he scratched his head, declining Neville's offer of a Chocolate Frog. He then said to her, "Trevor probably jumped into the snack trolley looking for company... Do you really think that witch was just being kind?"
Even if the toad hadn't touched the chocolate, the thought was still unsettling.
Hermione, feeling a bit uneasy herself, was about to warn Neville, but seeing how he was already halfway through eating one, with a Frog leg twitching in his mouth, she decided against it.
"Are you not going to warn him?" Nietzsche asked.
Hermione replied, "Forget it. He's already eaten it. Do you really want to make him sick by telling him now?"
This wasn't Hermione being mischievous—it was her considering Neville's feelings.
Saying nothing meant everyone stayed happy; if she told him he'd eaten a Chocolate Frog that Trevor might have touched, Neville would feel grossed out.
As they passed by the witch with the snack trolley, Nietzsche's theory was proven correct. Trevor, that slippery toad, was indeed rummaging through the snacks.
The toad had thought his companions were trapped inside.
"Accio Trevor!" Hermione quickly drew her wand as soon as she saw the animal.
The Summoning Charm allowed objects and living creatures to fly toward the caster. The greater the magic output, the larger the creature they could control, provided the caster knew what the object or creature looked like.
From the far end of the carriage, Trevor was suddenly lifted from a pile of chocolates just as the trolley was about to be pushed into the staff room. He flew through the long carriage, weaving through the crowd in the corridor.
Suddenly, three people tumbled out of one of the compartments, one of them being bitten on the finger by a rat.
Unfortunately, Hermione, still not very skilled at casting spells, made the toad's flight path wobble. As a result, the toad hit the blond boy in the middle squarely in the face.
In addition to the slimy goo, there was also some chocolate sauce that stuck to Malfoy's face.
The pitiful sight made Nietzsche instinctively hunch his shoulders and close his eyes...
Sure enough, after a three-second roar, the "intercepted" toad was grabbed and flung to the ground by Malfoy, then it rolled and scrambled its way over to Neville's feet.
"Ah! Leif!!" Neville exclaimed, his eyes filled with concern for the toad.
Hermione was now red with embarrassment. Following the roar, curious onlookers poked their heads out from the compartments, shifting their gazes from the three involved to Nietzsche and his companions.
"Oh no, you're in trouble now."
"Who knew they would just happen to fall right in the middle of the hallway?!" Hermione said, frustrated.
Now all the pressure was on her.
Hermione had never been stared at like this before—it was even scarier than when she had to give a statement in front of a group of teachers at school!
"Longbottom!!"
"Malfoy?"
Status Power Mingguan
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