Setting Out

"Wizards' intelligence really made me sick." After leaving Ollivander's wand shop, Tom resumed his usual ranting. "Why could one Galleon be exchanged for seventeen Sickles or more than four hundred Knuts? They clearly had ten fingers, and their everyday arithmetic was decimal."

"I don't know. Maybe the creatures who first ruled the wizarding world had seventeen fingers and twenty-nine toes?" Nelson could not imagine such a bizarre creature either.

"I used to say Chamberlain was an idiot, but now I think he was perfectly qualified to be the Ministry of Magic's Chancellor of the Exchequer. In fact, even his grandmother could do it..." Tom mercilessly attacked the financial system under the Ministry of Magic. "The pet shop is right ahead. Honestly, don't you think carrying around a toad looks idiotic?"

"That's a frog... Still, I think we could buy an owl or something."

The two entered the pet shop. The clerk on duty was a slightly overweight, balding blond man in his thirties. When he saw two little brats in Muggle clothes walk in, he lowered the backside he had just lifted from his stool.

"You two brats, the rats are in the corner. That snowy owl costs forty Galleons. Don't break anything."

"What kind of attitude is that?!" Tom had never suffered such treatment before. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the clerk.

The clerk looked disdainful and sneered. "How novel. A Mudblood brat is actually pointing a wand at my head!" Then he pulled a wand from beneath the counter, aimed it at Tom and Nelson, and contemptuously drove them away. "Get out."

Tom seemed ready to argue his case, but Nelson saw that things were going badly. There was no way two eleven-year-olds who had just received their wands could defeat an adult wizard, so he dragged Tom out of the shop.

"What the hell was that?!" Tom spat on the ground, no longer caring about his usual composure. "He told me to get out, and he called me a 'Mudblood'? What was a Mudblood?"

Nelson stood beside him with a headache, comforting Tom while cursing their bad luck. He was angry too. On his first visit to Diagon Alley, he had run into such a cliché scene of someone showing off and getting slapped down. The worst part was that he had not even gotten to show off; he had only been slapped down. Tom was still raging beside him, repeatedly asking, "What is a Mudblood?"

"Mudblood is an insulting term pure-blood wizards use for wizards born to Muggles. It is a deeply vicious word, one that could never come from the mouth of a well-bred wizard." A calm male voice suddenly sounded behind them. Nelson turned and saw Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore!" He hurriedly greeted him. Tom immediately turned around at the name. Seeing Dumbledore, he suppressed his emotions and greeted him as well.

"Tom, Nelson, come on. I'll treat you to some ice cream," Dumbledore said, draping an arm around each of their shoulders and leading them away. "And I have something I'd like your help with."

"Let's go to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Mr. Fortescue's ice cream is the most delicious in the United Kingdom." Dumbledore smiled and winked at them. "A tasty cold drink can make one forget all unpleasant things."

They walked to an ice cream parlour by the street. There were quite a few customers, and only one empty table remained outside. Dumbledore led the two over and sat down. "Fortescue, three Raspberry Sundaes, please," he called to the owner.

Once the three were seated, Fortescue brought over their desserts. Dumbledore quickly finished his. Nelson poked at his sundae spoonful by spoonful, while Tom sat at the table watching his slowly melt, his expression grave. The joy of receiving his beloved wand seemed to have vanished completely.

"Nelson, when school starts on September first, could you deliver this letter to Professor Slughorn for me?" Dumbledore took out a letter and handed it to Nelson. "I have some matters to attend to that day and may not arrive on time. If I do arrive, simply return the letter to me."

Nelson nodded. Dumbledore gave Tom's shoulder another heavy pat. "Your origins do not determine your future, Tom. Your accomplishments will be limitless!" Tom nodded at Dumbledore with a grim expression. "Eat, Tom. Nothing in life is more enchanting than sweets."

Tom picked up his spoon and slowly poked at the sundae.

"You two rest here for a while. I need to take care of something. Wait a moment." Dumbledore patted Tom's shoulder again, this time with considerable force. Nelson saw Tom shudder.

"Nal, I'm not a Mudblood, am I?" Once Dumbledore had left, Tom raised his lowered head. Seeing his expression, Nal saw the haggard look of someone who had been denied. His eyes, once like black jade, were bloodshot, as though he were desperately holding back tears. Yet his eyes also seemed incapable of crying, as though they had no tear glands to produce tears. His wide-open eyes grew even redder.

"Yes, Tom." Nelson hesitated for a moment. He did not know whether he should tell Tom about House of Gaunt. He understood that Tom desperately needed such news to lift his spirits, but how could he explain knowing about Tom's family history? "Yes, Tom. You aren't."

Hearing his friend's hesitant answer, Tom seemed lost in thought. "Mm," he answered softly. The response was so faint that Nelson almost did not hear it. He merely watched Tom lower his head to his chest again and silently eat his sundae, not knowing how to comfort this immensely proud, sensitive boy.

"I just saw you with Professor Dumbledore. Are you new students at Hogwarts?" A voice intruded at an inopportune moment. Nelson looked up and saw a sturdy boy with a black crew cut and dark gray eyes. "I'm Alphard Black, a new student at Hogwarts." He held a Birdcage containing a snow-white owl and spoke excitedly.

"Alphard, I told you not to run around." An older girl hurried after Walburga. "Sorry, he's my younger brother. He can be a little mischievous. I'm terribly sorry for disturbing you."

"It's all right." Nelson glanced beside him and found Tom wearing an indifferent expression. He seemed to have adjusted his mood, looking cool as he held his sundae and stared at the Birdcage in Walburga's hand.

"It's all right," Nelson echoed.

"Forgive me for asking, but may we sit here? Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour has no other seats available." Alphard's sister stared at Tom and spoke lightly.

"I'm definitely going to Slytherin." Alphard mumbled through a mouthful of shaved ice. "My whole family is in Slytherin. Eight generations of my ancestors were in Slytherin. If I don't get in, my mum might burn my name out of the family tree."

"What are you talking about?" Walburga poked her brother, who was talking nonsense, then gave the two an apologetic look. Her name was Walburga Black, Alphard's biological older sister and a third-year Slytherin student. The two came from the ancient pure-blood Black Family.

"I hope I go to Ravenclaw." Nelson waved to Walburga, indicating that it was fine. "I heard it gathers the wisest witches and wizards in all the United Kingdom."

"Hmph, you'd better come to Slytherin. Ravenclaws are just a bunch of bookworms in a library." Walburga continued pinching her brother while instilling Slytherin values into Nelson. She suddenly turned to Tom. "Riddle, someone as outstanding as you will definitely be chosen for Slytherin."

"Me?" Tom idly played with his spoon. "A Mudblood like me probably isn't worthy of studying in Slytherin alongside noble pure-bloods."

"What?!" Walburga was so shocked that her spoon fell to the ground. She stammered for a long time before finally forcing out, "You're so outstanding, so... so handsome. You definitely can't be a Mudblood!"

"What's so good about Slytherin?" Alphard cut in. "Tom, you should go to Gryffindor. That's the best house at Hogwarts. Dumbledore is—ow! What are you doing?!" Once again, his sister taught him a lesson.

Tom continued playing with his spoon, his face gloomy.

"Wonderful! I only left for a little while, and you already found new friends!" An energetic voice suddenly squeezed in from beside them. It was Dumbledore, carrying two cages. "Ta-da! These are back-to-school gifts for you."

"Professor Dumbledore," the four greeted him hurriedly.

"Hello—Nelson, this is for you." Dumbledore lifted the cage in his left hand and passed it to Nelson. Inside was a British Shorthair with a ridiculous little mustache. Combined with the markings on its face, it looked as though someone had drawn a question mark there. "Pfft—" The moment Nelson saw the kitten, he burst out laughing. "I'll call you Question Mark from now on." Nelson teased the kitten happily.

"Tom, this is for you." Tom looked up. Inside the cage was a brightly colored owl, its face ringed with stripes and markings that made it look exceptionally magnificent. "It's a Collared Owlet, a very rare kind of owl. It has a somewhat fiery temper, but it can deliver letters very far away. It always completes its mission."

Dumbledore stuffed the Birdcage into Tom's arms and ruffled his hair. "Was the Raspberry Sundae good?"

"It tasted good, though it was a little sour, Professor," Tom said seriously, looking up at Dumbledore.

"Hahaha!" Dumbledore laughed heartily, and everyone else joined in. At last, Tom hugged the Birdcage tightly and revealed a faint smile as well.

"Nal, you didn't use that magic of yours, did you?" Tom looked at the thick fog outside the train and voiced his suspicion to Nelson.

"I didn't! And I told you! That wasn't magic at all!" Nelson argued helplessly.

Beside them, Alphard struggled under his sister's restraint, demanding that Tom tell the story of what happened at Ollivander's wand shop again.

They were now aboard the train to Hogwarts. Throughout the entire month of August, Nelson and Tom had stayed at Aunt Bella's house, hiding in their room to practice magic. After a month of diligent training, they had every reason to believe that they would shine brilliantly in their coming life at Hogwarts.

As the magical express carried the four laughing friends in their compartment away from London, the doors to the wizarding world finally truly opened before them.