Baron Shafiq

Chapter 4: Baron Shafiq

The next month was nothing short of glorious for Avada.

With a wand to help him and the guidance of his textbooks, his understanding and mastery of magic skyrocketed. The magic that had once seemed chaotic and indistinct to him also grew clear as he learned the theory and compared it with what he had experienced.

The entire world of magic had opened its doors to him.

In truth, he had already figured out all the first-year material during his years of fumbling exploration. He had even worked out quite a bit of the more advanced material. What he lacked was a systematic review and summary, and Hogwarts textbooks were undoubtedly the perfect remedy.

As for his strength now...

"Protego."

With a flick of his wand, a transparent barrier shimmering with pale blue light appeared soundlessly before him. Normally, this was a spell that at least a fifth-year student could master, and even many incompetent adult wizards struggled to cast it. Yet he had managed to figure it out himself, drawing on his memories from his previous life and his Magic Sense.

On top of that, he could cast every spell and perform every piece of Transfiguration covered in the first-year textbooks without speaking or using his wand.

Of course, casting with a spoken incantation and a wand was still stronger.

But he did have his weaknesses. For example, he was making very slow progress in Potions and Herbology, since he had no materials to practice with and could only rely on rote memorization. The trouble was that his memory was quite average, and he hadn't been blessed with the usual transmigrator protagonist's photographic memory...

"Then today's the day I finally head to Hogwarts!"

Suppressing the swell of excitement in his heart, Avada said his goodbyes to his friends and teachers at the orphanage, picked up his luggage, and took a carriage to King's Cross Station.

It was September 1, 1990. That meant he was a year ahead of Harry Potter, the Chosen One, so he ought to get through his first year without a hitch or any unexpected trouble.

It also meant he had more time to prepare.

Voldemort wouldn't return for another five whole years. As a transmigrator who knew the entire story and all its details, and had a cheat of his own, how much could he accomplish in five years?

The Diadem and the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in the abandoned girls' bathroom, Gaunt Shack, Peter, who was currently masquerading as a rat, the Locket beneath the carpet...

Unless something went wrong, if he played his cards right, he was entirely confident he could keep Voldemort trapped at the resurrection site!

And those who had died, those whose fates had ended in regret—Lupin, Tonks, Snape, Dumbledore, Fred...

And the Wizarding World, left in ruins by Voldemort, along with all the fallen fighters and innocent victims—he could save them all!

As he pondered, he realized he had reached the spot between platforms nine and ten.

"It should be there, that pillar closest to platform ten..." Avada took out his Hogwarts Express ticket and held it in his hand. According to Dumbledore, it served as a pass that temporarily opened the platform entrance, to prevent Muggles from wandering in.

But as he approached the platform, ready to enter, he saw a family of redheads standing in front of him. Several of them had suitcases, and one was carrying an owl.

He could guess who they were without even thinking.

"Watch closely, Ron. I can only show you once."

"Don't worry, George. If you don't teach him, I can show him again."

"You'll be using this knowledge next year, after all, so watch and learn."

"Take out your ticket and hold it in your hand, pick up your luggage, and then stride in with elegance..."

The one who was probably George took an exaggerated step, like he was doing the flamenco, and disappeared into the pillar.

"See that?" Fred, the one who remained, patted the shoulder of the redheaded boy beside him, who was half a head shorter. "If you're a little nervous the first time, you can run in like this..."

With an ostentatious patter of tiny footsteps, Fred and his luggage vanished into the pillar, too.

"..."

Avada was thoroughly confused. Ever since he'd read about it, he'd never understood this: if you were afraid of running into a wall, why would you run?

Did they want to hit it harder?

So he waited until the entire Weasley family had gone through, then cautiously approached the pillar and poked it with one finger.

Yep, no resistance. He could go through.

Only then did he step forward with confidence. The scene around him changed in an instant. A vintage black-and-red steam train rested on the tracks, puffing clouds of white steam. All around it were countless wizards in black robes—or new students who hadn't had time to change into theirs—as well as cats and owls weaving through the crowd.

The first few carriages were already packed with students. Some leaned out of the windows to talk to their families, some were fooling around in their seats, and some older students, pent-up after a summer away from school, were waving their wands and freely casting magic. There were also a few unlucky souls bent over the tables, scribbling away. Avada struggled through the crowd and found an empty compartment near the back of the train. After stowing his luggage, he sat down and enjoyed the quiet as he pulled out his Potions textbook and kept studying.

But before long, someone interrupted his peace.

"Excuse me, is anyone sitting here?"

The compartment door slid open, and a handsome face framed by light brown hair peered inside. The voice was soft and tentative.

"No. Come in if you want."

Avada shook his head and gestured for him to enter.

The boy was about to come in, but then he spotted the textbook in Avada's hand. "Oh, am I interrupting you? I'm terribly sorry."

"Not at all. I'll have plenty of time to study later." Avada found himself warming to the boy and replied with a smile.

"Thank you for being so gracious." The handsome boy stepped into the compartment and sat down, then held out his hand to Avada. "Baron Shafiq. Pleased to travel with you."

"Likewise, Mr. Shafiq." Avada shook his hand. "You can call me K for now."

"Huh?"

Baron furrowed his brow slightly. "What does that mean?"

"I'm afraid..." Avada sighed helplessly, suddenly thinking that the Department of Mysteries hadn't paid him nearly enough compensation. "Professor Dumbledore told me to avoid telling other people my real name if possible. As for what I should be called at school, I don't know yet."

Come to think of it, what had Dumbledore put down as his name on the student list? Surely it wasn't actually "Mr. K"?

"Professor Dumbledore came to see you himself?!"

Baron gave Avada a strange look and asked hesitantly, "Forgive my asking, but is your real name by any chance Voldemort?"

"Not quite..."

Avada's face twitched. He was about to deny it, but then froze. "What did you just call him?!"

"Oh, perhaps I should call him 'You-Know-Who' or 'the Dark Lord'?"

Baron gave a derisive snort. "A disgrace to Slytherin, a coward with no sense of honor. What right does he have to make people fear his name? The Shafiq family never bothered to avoid saying it—not now, and not even back when he was alive and the Name Curse was still in effect!"

"The Shafiq family?" Avada raised an eyebrow. "You mean one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?"

"That's right."

Baron lifted his chest with pride, then explained, "But don't get the wrong idea. The Shafiq family is Pure-blood, but we're the truest Slytherins. We're nothing like Voldemort, that utterly irrational madman!"

"Um..." Avada chose his words carefully and tried not to offend him. "If I remember correctly, the You-Know-Who—well, Voldemort—was a Slytherin too, wasn't he?"

"That's exactly why I said he's a disgrace to Slytherin!"

Baron seemed to grow angry. "Salazar Slytherin founded the school to protect wizards from persecution and let them study and live in safety and happiness! And what did Voldemort do? He plunged the entire Wizarding World into turmoil and made everyone live in fear!"

"And that damn—cough, despicable 'Pure-blood Supremacy' nonsense! The honor of Pure-bloods comes from protecting wizards and the Wizarding World at all costs, not from lording it over them!"

"What kind of Slytherin is he?"

Avada couldn't help but look at him askance. By that logic, he could expel ninety percent of the students in Slytherin House.

"...All right."

In the end, Baron couldn't stand Avada's questioning gaze. He turned away awkwardly, his face reddening. "My father told me that Slytherin House has become a little... distorted. But that's only because Slytherin's glory in the past was so great that those who forgot their mission could rest comfortably beneath its protection and grow a little arrogant!"

"If anyone in the future does anything outrageous to you, please allow me to apologize on their behalf in advance."

As he spoke, Baron suddenly bowed his head and leaned forward in a shallow bow to Avada.

Avada was taken aback. He hadn't expected Baron to go this far to defend Slytherin's honor—he hadn't even been sorted yet!

"There's no need..." He reached out to steady Baron by the shoulder, but a clear voice interrupted him:

"Excuse me, is there still room in here... Oh, what are you doing?"

Avada and Baron both turned toward the doorway and saw a pretty Asian girl looking at them curiously.