Under Hermione's Death Gaze, the entire compartment fell silent.
Even Trevor held his breath, quietly lying on Neville's lap, not daring to steal any more freeze-dried treats, fearing he would annoy this rather temperamental Witch.
"It's fine, you can laugh if you want, I... I'm not angry!"
Hermione's voice suddenly became extraordinarily gentle. She pursed her lips, revealing a sweet smile, but her crescent-shaped eyes held no hint of amusement.
Witches are Magical Creatures, and their words clearly cannot be taken seriously, especially when they are so devious.
But Neville, oblivious to the wickedness of human hearts and the decline of the world, foolishly started to laugh.
Rolf sighed slightly, Shirley gently massaged her forehead, and even Trevor looked at his owner as if he were an idiot.
Hermione, as expected, changed her expression at light speed, leaping up and brandishing her wand in a display of "mad stick fighting," striking Neville repeatedly, causing him pain. He could only use Trevor to shield his round head to absorb the damage.
(Trevor: Croak croak croak?)
Rolf watched with a pounding heart. Little Witches of this age were indeed not to be trifled with. And this system even wanted him to capture, train, and tame them... Tame your grandmother's leg!
The young man was secretly congratulating himself for resisting the urge to laugh, but then Hermione turned her head and stared at him, saying:
"Even though you're not smiling, I know you're definitely laughing at me inside!"
...You little brat, are you really just going to ignore the facts?!
Seeing Hermione rushing over, Rolf pressed one hand against her smooth forehead, letting the girl flail her limbs. He sighed and said:
"Hermione, I really wasn't mocking you, don't overthink it... Neville! How could you mock Hermione? She just bumped her two front teeth, why are you gloating?
It's not me criticizing you, but we're all classmates, do you have any sympathy?!"
Neville: "..."
"I'll fight you!" Hermione, enraged and embarrassed, probably belonged to the dog family; she opened her mouth to bite, and Rolf quickly withdrew his palm, leaving her to lunge at empty air.
Without his arm for support, the girl's body leaned too far forward, she stumbled, and plunged forward, falling heavily into Rolf's arms.
"..."
Rolf quickly raised his hands in a French military salute, shouting innocently, "She's faking it... faking it... I didn't even touch her... everyone's watching..."
Hermione's face flushed crimson. She sprang to her feet, breathlessly smoothed her messy sideburns, then glared at Rolf with murderous intent before returning to her seat.
Shirley lowered her head slightly, her eyelashes trembling. She whispered, "It's all my fault, I didn't warn you that the bread was very hard."
She grew up in a distant Monastery, and to catch the train, she had set off two days early. Although the bread wouldn't spoil, it would harden if left for too long.
"It's nothing!" Hermione's lips curved into a warm arc, and she waved her hand magnanimously:
"I've eaten French baguettes before, they were even harder than this... They say when they protest, they use baguettes as weapons."
Rolf glanced at Hermione in surprise. Although the young girl was feisty, she was very considerate of others' self-esteem.
After the squabble, the four began to actively engage in the great endeavor of eating and collecting Chocolate Frog cards.
Rolf casually opened a Chocolate Frog, picked up the card, and saw an old Wizard depicted on it. He was holding a strangely shaped wand, which suddenly shot out a large ball of green light, and then he burst into laughter.
He flipped to the back, where the Wizard's life story was written:
"Godelot, the most dangerous Dark Wizard of recent times, considered an 'unpleasant individual,' he authored 'most potent potions,' advancing the study of the Dark Arts.
Godelot used his son, Hereward, for magical research and was ultimately imprisoned in his home's cellar by his son, Hereward, where he died tragically..."
What filial piety!
Rolf glanced at the biography and then handed the card to the enthusiastic Hermione and Shirley.
Rolf had little interest in collecting Chocolate Frog cards. Neville, being from a Wizarding family, had accumulated many over the years and certainly wasn't lacking cards.
The two girls, however, were very enthusiastic, especially Shirley, who heard that complete sets of cards could be sold for money.
Happy times are always fleeting, as if there's a magic force invisibly drawing time away.
The fields rushing past outside the train window became increasingly desolate. As the farmland disappeared, large expanses of forest, winding rivers, and dark green hills appeared.
The compartment also gradually quieted down.
Shirley rested her chin in her hands, gazing at the distant scenery. Her long ponytail, draped over her shoulder and hanging in front of her, swayed gently in the breeze.
Hermione, meanwhile, had snatched a travelogue from Rolf, which introduced Romania's Fire Dragon Reserve. The girl read with rapt attention, at times excited, at times joyful.
Rolf leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, head tilted, continuing to doze. When his head tilted to a certain degree, the Bowtruckle sitting on his shoulder would quietly straighten it, then let it tilt again.
Just then, a shriek suddenly echoed through the compartment.
The sudden cry startled the Bowtruckle, making it tremble. It quickly burrowed into Rolf's arms, emitting a whimpering lament.
Hermione had just opened a wine-soaked jam pudding and had only taken two bites when she was so startled that she gave a violent jolt, her expression somewhat dazed, and then she let out two consecutive burps.
She seemed to have choked. She quickly straightened her chest, and Shirley, who was habitually reaching for a baseball bat nearby, immediately extended her hand and vigorously patted Hermione's flat chest. Only then did the girl catch her breath.
Everyone looked at Neville, who cried out, "Trevor... is gone!"
After catching her breath, Hermione grumbled, "I thought Goyle and Crabbe had come to cause trouble again!"
"Could it be hiding in some corner of the compartment?" Shirley suggested.
"Probably not. Trevor has run away from me many times before. Every time I can't see him, he's run away from home," Neville said anxiously. "He probably doesn't like me hugging him when I sleep."
"..."
Others pet cats, you pet a toad, and you even want to cuddle it while sleeping... No wonder Trevor wants to run away.
Seeing Neville so anxious, Hermione and Shirley both helped search the compartment, rummaging through everything to find Trevor.
Rolf didn't get up. He whispered to comfort the startled Bowtruckle, then listened attentively for a moment.
The Bowtruckle stood on the young man's shoulder, its arm gripping a strand of golden hair that hung from his temple, and it murmured softly close to his ear.
Rolf nodded slightly, then looked up and said, "You don't need to look anymore. Groot told me that Trevor secretly slipped out when the door was opened earlier."
"You can communicate with a Bowtruckle?" Hermione's eyes widened in astonishment.
"Yes, but only with this particular Bowtruckle," Rolf explained.
He could communicate with any animal that was 100% tamed, but this communication was facilitated by the system... Rolf certainly didn't know the Bowtruckle language.
But Hermione and the others didn't know this. They looked at Rolf, feeling that the young man was very impressive, truly worthy of being Newt Scamander's grandson!
The Bowtruckle named Groot, being watched by so many people, pressed its fingers to its cheek, looking a little shy. It swayed slightly and quickly burrowed into Rolf's collar.
Neville looked at Rolf, anxiously asking, "What should we do? The train is so big, where will we find Trevor?"
"That's simple," Rolf whistled.
Moments later, a fiery red Salamander darted out of the small black suitcase like lightning, joyfully circling around the young man.
"A Salamander?!" Hermione exclaimed excitedly.
Rolf picked up the Salamander and placed it on his shoulder. The lizard, radiating heat, stretched out its head and affectionately rubbed the young man's cheek.
"This Salamander's name is Firekiss. It can help us locate Trevor."
Rolf pulled out a fragrant, fiery-red pill from his pocket. The Salamander quickly swallowed it, emitting a joyful sound.
"Rolf, what did you feed it?" Shirley asked.
"A pill made from fire peppers. Salamanders are born from fire and feed on fire; they cannot survive without fire," Rolf explained.
"But if you regularly feed a Salamander chili peppers, it can temporarily leave the fire. The spicier the pepper, the longer it can stay out, though never more than six hours."
The others seemed to be deep in thought. In just half a day, they had learned so much from Rolf that wasn't in their textbooks.
Rolf extended a finger and flicked his beloved pet's scarlet head, smiling, "Alright, Firekiss, go help find Trevor."
The Salamander suddenly opened its mouth wide, revealing sharp, gleaming teeth. It kept its mouth wide open, then extended its tongue and shot out a ball of fire.
Soon, Firekiss jumped from the young man's shoulder to the windowsill, then to the floor.
Its head seemed like a radar. After turning once, it glanced at Rolf, seemingly telling the young man that it had found the target, and then it darted away.
...