Professor Lupin on the Train

September 1st.

After breakfast, accompanied by Aaron Jeans, they drove an ordinary car to King's Cross Station.

Just as the two took their suitcases out, they saw two dark green cars emerge from the narrow alley.

"The Ministry of Magic?" Aaron raised an eyebrow. "But isn't that a bit too ostentatious!"

"It's the Weasley family, Hermione Granger and Harry Potter." Jeans looked at the strange lineup and said thoughtfully, "It must be Fudge who arranged this to protect Harry Potter. I guess Harry Potter will be living on tenterhooks before Sirius Black is caught."

"At least he's safe at Hogwarts," Aaron said dismissively. "There are the most powerful wizards of this century there!"

"Young master, the train will depart in half an hour," Jeans reminded him.

"Okay, I'm on my way, you don't need to see me off." Aaron shrugged and pushed the cart into the station, smoothly passing through the partition between platforms nine and ten.

Looking at the bright red steam train and the large and small Warlock crowding the station, Aaron couldn't help but smile. From today onwards, his life would truly be back on track.

Aaron skillfully placed his suitcase in the last carriage of the train, and then began looking for a seat for himself.

He probably arrived late. He searched from the back of the car to the front and found only one relatively empty private room. However, he only realized the reason for the empty room when he got closer: an adult was sleeping inside.

Aside from the staff and the witch selling snacks, there were no other adults on the Hogwarts Express.

After hesitating for a moment, Aaron pushed open the sliding door and led Abei inside.

But as soon as it sat down, Abei opened its eyes and looked warily at the middle-aged man opposite it.

"What's wrong?"

"His taste is very strange," Abei replied in the Dragon Language. "It's like a wild beast living inside him, or, in human terms, a time bomb."

Aaron:...

Holy crap! What kind of luck is this?!

I should have known better than to prioritize comfort; I should have at least squeezed into any cubicle!

"Call!"

Aaron took a deep breath, picked up Abei, and carefully stood up.

The train hasn't left yet, and everyone is still asleep. There should still be time to change seats.

However, before he could open the sliding door, three people appeared outside the compartment: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger.

"Uh... here's a piece of advice: don't come in."

"But all the other private rooms are full, there's no room for three people." Hermione said, opening the door, Harry and Ron followed her in.

"Sigh! That's life, nine times out of ten it's not as you wish," Aaron thought to himself as he sat down in a window seat.

"Aaron, who is this...?" Harry asked, pointing to the sleeping man beside him.

"I don't know either."

"Professor Lupin," Hermione whispered, "It's written on his box."

Upon hearing this, Aaron glanced at the box and felt much relieved.

As a professor at Hogwarts, even if he himself had some hidden dangers, he would not pose a threat to his students.

Wanting to understand this, Aaron began to scrutinize the newly arrived professor with great interest.

He wore a tattered Warlock's robe, and his light brown hair was tinged with khaki. He looked to be around thirty years old, but he was sickly.

Moreover, the suitcase was tattered and worn, probably at least ten years old.

"This professor looks like he's not doing well; he's definitely one of the poorest people in the teaching profession."

"I can see that," Ron said with some doubt. "I just don't know if he can handle the job."

The position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor seems to be cursed; Quirrell is dead, Lockhart is imprisoned, and neither of them met a good end.

"This one should be suitable," Aaron said. "Lockhart was a big joke last year. If Hogwarts is hiring professors again, they will definitely have some basic assessments, or at the very least, they will know his background."

Let's hope so!

"I have something to tell you." Harry glanced at Professor Lupin, making sure he was still asleep before looking at the three of them seriously. "Sirius Black Black may be looking for me. He wants to kill me."

"No way!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise. "How did you know?"

"I overheard the Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking last night," Harry said sheepishly. "But I really didn't mean to."

They said that the day before Sirius Black escaped from prison, he kept talking in his sleep, repeating the same thing over and over: he wanted to go to Hogwarts.

He was the You-Know-Who's loyal servant, thinking that killing me would allow the You-Know-Who to make a comeback.

That's why Fudge didn't hold me responsible for blowing Aunt Marge up like a balloon, and instead arranged for me to go to Diagon Alley and have members of the Ministry of Magic escort me onto the train.

"Uh... I don't want to say it, but Sirius Black is definitely here to kill you," Aaron said. "If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it long ago. Why wait twelve years? That's too sudden."

"They might be planning an escape," Ron said, stroking his chin. "After all, it's Azkaban; no one has ever escaped from there before."

"No, no, no." Aaron waved his hand. "There are still some doubts. He didn't resist at all when he was captured."

"Perhaps they knew they couldn't escape, and surrendering would spare them some physical suffering."

Moreover, he was laughing even after killing three people; he was completely insane.

Aaron blinked, then shrugged. "Okay, I have nothing to say."

"Black will definitely be caught," Hermione comforted her. "Everyone is looking for him."

At that moment, a faint whistle suddenly rang out in the private room.

"What was that sound?" Aaron looked at Harry's suitcase. "What did you bring?"

"I don't know either." Harry hurriedly opened his trunk and pulled out a small, top-shaped object from a piece of clothing. "Ron gave me this as a birthday present."

"Is this Sneakoscope?" Hermione asked curiously, looking at the rapidly spinning top.

"I heard it lights up and spins when there's a suspicious person around," Aaron said thoughtfully. "That's not a good sign."

"Don't overthink it, it's just a cheap knock-off." Ron said dismissively, "A magical toy, a shoddy product sold to Warlock tourists."

Harry nodded, then stuffed the Sneakoscope into an old sock; he didn't want the little spinning top to wake the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

"Harry, do you have any plans for Hogsmeade Village?" Hermione asked excitedly. "It's the only place in Britain without Muggle, and it has a very long history."

"Nobody signed his permission form," Aaron interjected, then looked at Harry with some sympathy. "You can think about what you want to buy in advance, and I can reluctantly bring it back for you."

"Thanks." Harry nodded sullenly.

"How about we try Professor McGonagall?" Ron whispered. "If all else fails, we can try Fred and George; they might know the secret passage leading out of the school."

Upon hearing this, Aaron's lips twitched. "Are your two older brothers really that outstanding?"

"Absolutely not," Hermione objected firmly. "Black hasn't been caught yet, and it would be very dangerous for Harry to leave Hogwarts."

"I think so too," Harry said listlessly. "Trouble is always finding me."

"It won't be so dangerous if we're with him," Ron said confidently.

"Don't bother me." Aaron quickly waved his hand. "You know me, I don't like trouble."

"But you're the strongest among us," Ron said, somewhat disgruntled. "You defeated You-Know-Who when he was young!"

"Keep a low profile, you have to keep a low profile in this kind of situation," Aaron said wearily. He was confident enough to defeat Black, but there was no need to get entangled with a desperate criminal.

Several hours later, darkness fell, and the black clouds grew thicker and thicker.

The witch pushed her food cart past the stall door and asked, "Is there anything you need?"

"Yes." Aaron skillfully pulled a Galleon from Abei's pocket. "Give me two bottles of milk, three packs of chocolate, four bottles of juice, a tart, and a lollipop."

What would you like?

"No, thank you." Ron pursed his lips. "My mom prepared three doses of medicine for us."

"Should we wake him up?" Harry pointed at Professor Lupin. "He might need something to eat."

"Let's add three more cakes!" Aaron added, "As a treat for our professor."

"Okay." The witch placed the food Aaron needed on the table. "If it's not enough, come to me anytime."

Aaron wasn't reserved. He left two bottles of juice and three cakes, then piled the rest of the snacks in front of Abei.

As it ate, it excitedly stuffed the food into its pocket.

A few months ago, its granary was emptied by the spies, so now it's trying to store as much as it can.

The train continued on its way, and as night fell, all the lights inside the carriage came on.

The rain outside was getting heavier and heavier, the wind was howling, and the raindrops kept hitting the window, making a pattering sound.

Professor Lupin seemed to be sleeping the whole time; if he weren't still breathing, they would have doubted whether he was even alive.

"I don't like this kind of weather," Aaron said. "Especially on long train journeys, it's so depressing."

"Just bear with it." Hermione glanced at her watch. "We still have half an hour before we arrive."

Suddenly the train braked sharply, slowing down more and more, with the wheels making a screeching sound as they hit the rails.

All the lights went out one after another, and they were trapped on a bridge.

Abei suddenly let out a low growl, quickly jumped onto the table, and warily stared out the window.

"How do we get back to them?" Ron asked nervously.

"Don't move," Aaron said, stopping Harry from going out to investigate. "There's something outside, quite a lot of it, and..."

Before the words were even finished, a thin layer of ice formed on the window of their compartment, the temperature dropped instantly, and everyone felt the biting cold.

Looking at the dark shadow flashing past the train window, Aaron couldn't help but swallow hard. "And if nothing unexpected happens, that disgusting thing is about to get on the train."

"Do you know what it is?" Hermione shuddered as she spoke. "A magical artifact?"

"You should have heard of it," Aaron said casually. "The guardian of Azkaban, the Dementor."