The next day, Basil got up early.
Unlike in games and films, Hogwarts did not have a long bridge facing the Great Hall and leading outside.
The castle's only land route exit was a broad carriage road.
Until recently, it had been deeply buried beneath snow.
But today, the snow had been cleared away in advance.
Holding Hermione's small hand, he followed the cleared stone path to a pair of grand, magnificent wrought-iron gates.
Inside the gates stood many carriages drawn by Thestrals. To those who had never witnessed death, these carriages appeared to be driven by magic or pulled by invisible horses.
Beyond the gates was the road upper-year students took after getting off the train, lined with stone pillars topped by winged boars.
Quite a few students had already gathered before the wrought-iron gates.
Filch held a key and was about to insert it into the lock.
The Hufflepuff students nearby were complaining that Filch had gotten up too late.
Otherwise, the carriages would have stopped directly outside the castle.
They would not have needed to walk all the way to the gates.
Hearing this, Hermione joined in, agreeing that Filch was not very competent as a caretaker.
Basil raised an eyebrow.
"Stop pretending. You're happy about it. In fact, you wish he'd gotten up even later."
The lie-detecting ability brought by the Truth-Teller let him realize that Hermione was lying.
"That's not true!" Hermione turned her head away.
Basil curled his lip.
A lie. Still a lie.
Living in a world without lies was just this simple, dull, and tedious.
"Do you still want me to see you to Hogsmeade Station?"
Hermione lowered her head. "Yes. Fine, I really did wish Filch had gotten up later."
Ten minutes later, they boarded a carriage.
Passing between the tall