"Ugh~" After eating the Every-Flavour Bean Glenn had given him, Neville's face turned deathly pale, and he let out a retching sound.
This was why you shouldn't eat these things when it was nearly mealtime.
"Oh! Neville, are you okay?" Hermione was startled by the sudden turn of events and hurried over to see what had happened.
But before she could get close, a terrible stench drove her back several steps.
"Oh no, I haven't learned the spell for cleaning up vomit—Scourgify! Neville, quick... take off your robes..."
After taking off his robes, Neville fled to the washroom, leaving everyone else staring in stunned silence.
"What did you give Neville?" Hermione turned around and asked, frowning.
"An Every-Flavour Bean, a food of chance." Glenn smiled. "He got lucky. Want one?"
At the sight of this, Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, then silently set down the Every-Flavour Beans in their hands.
After carefully reading the instructions on the packaging, Hermione had to admit that Neville really had been rather lucky.
He'd managed to get the one bean with a one percent chance of tasting like vomit...
Still, the harmless little mishap didn't stop the children from introducing themselves.
When Hermione heard Harry's introduction, her eyes lit up.
She said that Harry was mentioned in books such as Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Important Magical Events of the Twentieth Century.
She knew almost all of Harry's accomplishments from the books by heart, and even Harry himself was a little embarrassed to hear them.
"Oh, I can't believe you don't know. If it were me, I'd find every book that mentioned me," Hermione said regretfully.
"Do you know which House you want to be sorted into? I've been asking around, and I hope I get Gryffindor. Everyone says it's the best. I heard Dumbledore himself graduated from there, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad either... Oh, Neville, you're back. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I thought I was going to throw up, but I coughed the bean up and that was all," Neville said, the round-faced boy still shaken.
If his grandmother found out he'd nearly thrown up on the very first day, who knew how much bitter medicine she'd make him drink?
At the thought, Neville's eyes welled up again.
He still hadn't found the toad his great-uncle had given him specially for the start of term...
Sadly taking the robe Hermione handed him, he rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Then he suddenly cried out in delight.
"Foley!"
Foley was sitting safe and sound in the robe's inner pocket, its eyes darting about as it watched its master, who was so happy he was almost in tears...
At the sight, Ron, Hermione, and Harry stared at one another.
Clearly, none of them had expected things to turn out this way.
"I told you he was lucky."
With that, Glenn turned his gaze to the pumpkin pasty sitting off to one side.
"...Next time, I'll have to bring my own lunch on the train."
A while later, Hermione led Neville back to their compartment.
"That was brilliant, Glenn. That Every-Flavour Bean did a great job. Who knows how much longer she'd have gone on otherwise?"
"I've learned all the textbooks by heart~" Ron mimicked a girl's voice as he repeated her words. "Anyway, whatever House we get sorted into, I hope I don't end up with her."
As he spoke, he tossed his wand into his trunk. "That spell doesn't work. George told me. I bet he knew all along it was a dud."
But Harry wasn't thinking about the spell at all. His attention was entirely on the Houses Hermione had mentioned earlier.
"Which House do you all want to go to?" He looked back and forth between Glenn and Ron.
"Gryffindor," Ron said, looking unhappy again. "Mum and Dad were in that House. I don't know what they'll say if I don't go there. I don't think Ravenclaw would be especially bad, but just imagine—please don't let me end up in Slytherin."
"That's where Vol... Sorry, I mean, You-Know-Who was, right?"
"That's right." Ron tried to sound casual, but the slight twitch at the corner of his eye gave away how nervous he was.
"What about you, Glenn?" Harry asked.
Compared to Ron, who'd grown up in a wizarding family, Harry was more curious to hear Glenn's answer.
After all, he felt that Glenn's circumstances were much like his own.
"Me?" Glenn ate the last bite of pumpkin pasty.
That was a good question.
"I think Hufflepuff. They like Muggle-born wizards the most."
Of course, those words hadn't come from Glenn. They'd come from the compartment doorway.
Looking toward the voice, they saw three boys.
Aside from the other two strangely built, squat boys, Glenn recognized one of them: Draco Malfoy.
The incident at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions still seemed fresh in Malfoy's mind. He merely glanced at Glenn, then said nothing more.
As far as he was concerned, talking to someone who spouted such nonsense for too long would contaminate his mind!
Instead, he turned to Harry and asked, "Is that true?"
"People all over the train have been talking about how Harry Potter is in this compartment. So that means it's you, right?"
"Yes," Harry said, but his voice was much stiffer than it had been during their relaxed conversation.
Seeing Harry sizing them up, Malfoy introduced them in a casual tone. "Oh, this is Crabbe, and this is Goyle."
"I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
Ron gave a quiet cough to keep from laughing.
Draco Malfoy gave him a sidelong look. "You think my name's funny, do you? I don't need to ask who you are. My father told me that the Weasley family are all red-haired and freckled, and have more children than they can afford to feed."
To be honest, Young Malfoy probably thought that was an insult. But from what Glenn knew about those so-called Pure-blood enthusiasts and Pure-blood families, Old Malfoy had probably gritted his teeth as he said it.
Envy didn't begin to describe it. Jealousy was probably the mildest word for how Old Malfoy had felt when he said that.
Of course, the young Malfoy standing before them was too young to understand that.
Because in the blink of an eye, he was boasting about his family again.
Malfoy held out a hand to Harry. "You'll soon find that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You wouldn't want to make friends with the wrong sort. I can help you with that."
Harry ignored him and said coldly, "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."
Perhaps because his skin was so pale, Draco Malfoy's face didn't turn red. It only took on a faint blush.
"If I were you, Potter, I'd be very careful," he drawled.
"You should learn to be more polite, or you'll end up like your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. If you mix with people like the Weasley family, Hagrid, and other oddballs, you'll be tainted."
Harry and Ron sprang to their feet. Ron's face was as red as his hair.
"Say that again."
"Oh, you want to fight, do you?" Malfoy sneered.
"Unless you get out right now," Harry said. In truth, he wasn't as brave as he seemed, since Crabbe and Goyle were much bigger than he and Ron.
"But we don't intend to leave, do we, boys? We've finished all our food, and it looks like you've still got some."
The next moment, Goyle reached for the last pumpkin pasty on the table.
As it happened, that was the very one Glenn had been eyeing.
"Oh, sorry. It slipped," Malfoy said with a smirk, and the pumpkin pasty fell from Goyle's hand to the floor.
"If you don't mind, you can pick it up and eat it. Of course, I don't suppose Muggle-born wizards would mind. After all, no one dislikes their own kind."
Glenn simply smiled politely at them.
"You've finished your food, and now you want more, is that it?"
"Yes," Malfoy replied, still grinning and drawing out his words in that irritatingly slow manner.
He had no idea that Goyle, standing in front of the table, was already sweating buckets.
Because he had suddenly found himself unable to move!
Before you continue