You Will Regret This, Dumbledore!

"This guy should never have been admitted, Dumbledore!"

Severus, who had been having a streak of rotten luck, said in a low voice to the old man who had come to visit him.

"Has the wound not healed yet, Severus?" Dumbledore did not answer Severus's words; his voice was tinged with a hint of concern.

"Almost," Severus snorted coldly. "That boy's weapon must have been a piece of dark magic equipment imbued with a curse. If it were just a simple puncture wound, my arm would have healed a month and a half ago. But the wound keeps slowly splitting open after it heals. To use such a vicious thing—and you actually think he's someone worth saving?"

"His nature is vicious and cruel. You really should take a good look at those eyes!"

Even his breathing carried a trace of anger. Severus had been suffering for the past month and a half; he would often wake up in the middle of the night from the pain in his arm. The Broken Spear that had pierced his limb left behind a lingering power like a maggot in the bone, which had plagued him for quite some time.

"I have certainly looked into those eyes, Severus," Dumbledore comforted him. "He cares deeply about his father's death, but I also saw that he has not been blinded by hatred. He is a calm child who will not act impulsively."

"Then what about my injury? I hadn't even had the chance to knock before he attacked me. Do I need to pull out my memories and show them to you so you'll believe he was trying to cut my head off back then?!"

The furious Severus grew angrier the more he thought about it.

"He mistook you for the murderer who killed his father and was coming to finish him off as well." Dumbledore shrugged. He believed most of this explanation; after all, with Severus's gloomy appearance and greasy, dark attire, anyone would feel that he had ill intentions when showing up at their door.

Image management is very important, Severus; you really should have paid attention to that sooner.

"We should try to understand a child who has just lost his father and is wrapped in pain. He didn't mean it, and besides, didn't he take the initiative to explain the misunderstanding to you afterward?"

"Yes! A misunderstanding!" The moment Severus mentioned this, he couldn't help but want to vent his emotions. His hand began to ache again; although the wound was mostly healed, it would still split into a two-finger-wide crack, as if the flesh were being sliced, though it wasn't as deep as before—just a minor flesh wound.

"It's all that damn magic and the owl's fault, right!"

Skillfully pulling back his sleeve, Severus poured a few drops of potion onto the bleeding wound, and it healed in the blink of an eye. This should be the last time it would split.

"You will regret this, Dumbledore!"

Severus flicked his robes and said coldly as a final remark, "If you only came here to worry about my wound, you can leave now."

"Actually, I came here because..." Dumbledore looked at Severus for a few seconds before speaking slowly, "You should be aware that Harry will be attending Hogwarts this year. I hope you remember our agreement."

Severus paused slightly at this moment.

"Of course, I remember."

A complex emotion flashed through his eyes, one that was difficult to describe accurately in words.

On the Hogwarts Express, Ezio and Harry spent a time that was far from boring. They discussed many things about Hogwarts and tried out many interesting spells. Harry even generously paid to buy every variety of snack from the trolley.

"You should try the Honeydukes sweets. These things are a bit too sweet for me, but you might like them."

Ezio handed over a bag of Fizzing Whizzbees; these weren't sold on the train's snack trolley.

"Oh, thanks!" Harry took the candy happily, then turned his head to look at the girl beside him. "Hermione, do you want some?"

Not long ago, a girl with large front teeth had brought a teary-eyed, round-faced boy to their compartment door, saying the boy's toad was missing. Ezio had used Accio to find the toad belonging to the round-faced boy, Neville. This display of magic had caused the girl named Hermione to chatter excitedly, but a single sentence had stopped her nagging in its tracks.

"I've already finished learning all the spells before the fifth year. Are they really that difficult?"

Hermione, who prided herself on being a top student, fell silent. She suddenly felt that she had nothing to be proud of, especially after learning that Ezio didn't come from a wizarding family and was just like her—encountering magic for the first time.

"No thanks, I don't really like sweets," Hermione said without looking back. "You said earlier that the key to Accio is a clear understanding of the summoned object, but you clearly hadn't seen Neville's toad before."

"Does Neville's toad have eight legs?" Ezio chewed on a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean. He liked these little things that offered a brand new experience with every bite. Mostly, his Assassin's perception allowed him to avoid those ominous flavors when choosing beans. He only felt pleasure—eating them continuously, enjoying them continuously.

"Well, no." Hermione shook her head, but a trace of doubt remained on her face.

"Then there you go. I haven't seen Neville's toad, but do I not know what a toad looks like?" Ezio spread his hands, then grinned at Harry. "See, that's the result of rote learning. Ravenclaw would be a very good fit for you, Hermione."

"Being called a bookworm doesn't make me happy, Ezio, even though I do like to read." Hermione slammed her fourth-year textbook shut and rubbed her slightly dizzy temples. In front of a top student even more capable than herself, she couldn't muster a shred of pride. "It seems I need to go back and study more. Blindly learning high-level spells isn't what I should be doing."

Returning the textbook to Ezio, Hermione said goodbye and left.

"She seems a bit unconvinced," Harry said, chewing on a candy as he pondered.

"Competition is a good thing. It helps people improve faster. You wouldn't want to be pointed at and called a fool, would you?"

"Of course not." Harry nodded firmly. "But I've already learned a few spells, so I shouldn't be too embarrassing, right?" Harry said with some uncertainty. Not to mention comparing himself to Ezio, from their recent interaction, he knew that Hermione had already previewed all the first-year textbooks, which put a lot of pressure on him.

"You help me eat this Chocolate Frog; I feel like I should go learn another spell." After a moment of hesitation, Harry put down his snacks, as if something were poking him in the rear, reminding him that if he didn't work hard, he would turn into a fool.

Just as Harry opened his spellbook, preparing to find a new spell to learn, the compartment door was pushed open once again. It wasn't Neville or Hermione, but a trio of varying heights and builds.

Harry had an impression of one of them; the guy standing at the very front was someone he had met when buying his robes.

"Is it true?" The pale-faced boy standing at the front spoke on his own, looking as if he didn't take anyone seriously. "Everyone on the train is talking about it, saying Harry Potter is in this compartment. So, that would be you, right?"

Harry raised his head slightly, looking at the boy with a strange gaze, as if he were looking at some kind of fool.