Pandora's POV
The quill was already stored away in my trunk, and Emmeline was still absorbed in her reading with Ryan's glasses. There was still a long while before we reached the castle, so I decided to keep going with my book. But I couldn't concentrate. Not fully.
I kept thinking about the glasses.
They were probably one of the most useful inventions I had seen in a long time. Not flashy, not dangerous, not one of those things that impress with lights or noise. No. They were simple and brilliant. Perfect for studying, for making the most of time.
Even though I get good grades, I get easily distracted by subjects I don't like. I knew something like that could completely change the way I studied… and, of course, push even further the things I truly love.
And I was already on the list.
That gave me a little thrill of excitement. But it was quickly replaced by something more uncomfortable.
'They're going to be much more expensive than the quills,' Ryan had said.
The quill had cost me five galleons. It was strange that he hadn't set a price up front but instead asked me how much I'd offer. It felt like there was wiggle room, some kind of silent game.
If I had offered too much, Emmeline would have said something. She can't stand injustice, and she would have called him out. But she didn't. Which meant that probably… I'd paid a fair price, maybe even cheaper, I dared to think.
But… how much more would the glasses be? Thirty galleons? Forty? More?
I swallowed hard.
It's not that I didn't want to pay for something useful. But I couldn't ask Mum or Dad for that much money without a clear reason. Not without an explanation. And definitely not all at once. At home, everything is planned out.
The silence in the compartment lingered. Emmeline turned pages at a steady pace. Ryan read. I… kept thinking. And in the end, as always, my mouth spoke before I could convince it not to.
"Hey, Ryan…" I said in a low voice, "About the glasses… the price thing. You said they'd be more expensive than the quills. And, well…" I scratched my neck, heat prickling across my face, "I don't know if I'll be able to afford them."
I didn't have to say it. But I did. Because I can't pretend.
I was expecting a joke, a smug smile, some comment like: why didn't you think of that earlier? You just wasted my time. Something like that.
But Ryan looked at me calmly. No mockery, no pity.
"It doesn't matter," he said with disarming simplicity. "I'll keep you on the list anyway. When I have a final price, I'll let you know. It won't be anything crazy. If you could pay five galleons for the quill, you'll be able to pay this. Only if you want to, of course. And only if you think it's genuinely useful."
I froze. Blinking. "Really?"
Ryan nodded with a faint smile, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"And if it's too much, we can do installments. An initial payment when I hand them over, and the rest over three months or more. No interest, obviously. This isn't Gringotts."
That last bit he said with an ironic gesture, but his tone stayed genuine. Almost kind.
I looked at him, more surprised than I wanted to show.
Not a trace of arrogance. No superiority. Just… a realistic solution.
Emmeline raised an eyebrow from behind her book. She didn't say anything, but I noticed her watching him more closely than before. Even she, with all her composure, seemed slightly surprised.
"Thanks…" I muttered, not knowing what else to say. "Really."
Ryan shrugged. "Thank you. It's good to know there are people who appreciate what I do."
And just like that, as if it hadn't been a big deal, he went back to his reading.
I didn't. I was still processing.
Who is this boy?
Sometimes he seems like a ruthless merchant, as if every word were part of a mind game. But then he has these moments. As if underneath the salesman, there was someone… much more decent.
Emmeline finished reading and calmly took off the glasses. I watched as she handed them back to Ryan without saying anything yet. From her expression, I already guessed the answer.
"They work very well. I definitely want them," she finally said, in that controlled, almost clinical tone of hers.
I wasn't surprised. I had been watching her the entire hour, and her concentration hadn't wavered once. If someone like her, who demands so much of everything, said that… then it was real.
I saw Ryan take the glasses and smile.
"Great," he replied, but then, to my surprise, he pulled a galleon from his robes. The one Emmeline had given him to pay for the one-hour rental, and handed it back.
I frowned. What was he doing?
I saw Emmeline arch an eyebrow too, also confused.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I was too greedy," Ryan replied with a disarming naturalness. "You were testing my new invention and I charged you for it. And besides… being my first client, I couldn't be so low as to take a galleon from you for just an hour."
I looked at him in silence. There was no joke in his voice. Nor that usual arrogance of his. He was honest. Serious. As if he had just realized it himself and now wanted to make it right.
And Emmeline, although she didn't say anything, accepted the galleon back without protest. She tucked it into her purse, maybe more surprised than she wanted to show.
I was too.
Not because he returned the money, but because of what it implied.
Was he doing it out of conscience? Or because he knew I was listening? So that I wouldn't hesitate to try them too?
I didn't know.
But it felt genuine.
"Do you want to try them now, Pandora?" Ryan asked, turning to me with a calm expression. "A full hour. And then give me your feedback. You'll see they really work over longer periods, or maybe give me some constructive criticism."
I froze for a second.
There was no mockery in his voice, no sarcasm. Not even that confident salesman's attitude he usually had when talking about his inventions. He sounded genuine. Again.
Had he returned the galleon to Emmeline so I could try them without pressure too?
The thought lingered for a moment. Did he think I'd refuse to pay for an hour's rental? Well… he wasn't entirely wrong.
Yes, I paid five galleons for the quill. But one galleon for an hour of use seemed disproportionate. Not because I didn't have the money, but because of the principle of it.
Even so, I couldn't help but wonder if Ryan had considered that. If that gesture had been a way to let me in without putting me in an uncomfortable position.
Or was it simply honesty? A matter of conscience? Just as he said before: that he'd been too greedy.
It was hard to tell with Ryan.
His expression remained the same: calm, somewhat serious. His tone steady, neither overly kind nor sharp. His way of speaking didn't help to decipher him. He didn't seem to be hiding anything, but he didn't reveal much either.
"Yes, I want to try them," I replied with a smile. "Thank you."
Ryan nodded, satisfied. He handed me the glasses and I took them carefully.
"Your turn, then. Read at ease. I'll let you know when the hour's up."
I put them on gently, adjusting them a little. They were comfortable… though the frame pressed slightly at my temples. I opened my book and let time slip by.
And they worked.
Just as he'd said. I didn't lose comprehension. I didn't feel overloaded.
When the hour ended, I removed them carefully and handed them back.
"They work excellently," I said. "Very useful. Though the frame pressed me a little here." I pointed to my temple. "It's not uncomfortable, but I did notice it after a while."
Ryan didn't take offense. On the contrary, he nodded naturally.
"When I make yours, you'll be able to choose the size, the type of frame, the color, even the finish. Everything." He made a small gesture with his hand. "Of course, as long as it's a quality frame."
"Why quality?" I asked, curious. I noticed Emmeline also looked up, attentive.
"Because the rune, you must have seen it on the frame…" he pointed with his fingers at the edge of the glasses, "Inscribing it isn't exactly… a calm process, let's say. It puts pressure on the material. And if the frame doesn't have the proper resistance, it cracks or warps. That happened during my first tests."
"So you really did inscribe runes," Emmeline remarked, more as someone confirming a suspicion than as someone surprised.
"Yes," Ryan said without hiding it.
It was obvious from the runes on the frame, I had thought the same. Yet he said it as though inscribing runes into objects were the most ordinary thing in the world.
I looked at him again, this time with a mix of admiration and slight disbelief.
And right at that moment, the silence was broken by the metallic squeak of the food trolley.
"Magical sweets! Cauldron cakes, chocolate frogs, every-flavor beans!" announced the trolley witch with a smile.
Emmeline was the first to react, though in her own style.
"No, thank you. I'm not hungry," she said politely, closing her book.
I, on the other hand, was hungry. And craving something sweet. I bought a couple of cauldron cakes and a pumpkin juice.
But Ryan…
Ryan jumped up with enthusiasm. Not the ironic enthusiasm he sometimes used, nor the mocking tone with which he had teased us earlier. No. This time it was real. As if he'd been waiting for this moment ever since he boarded the train.
"Ten chocolate frogs, three packs of beans…" he began ordering a large amount of things.
I stared at him.
Not because of what he ordered. But because of how he ordered it.
His eyes were shining. Literally. He had that anxious, pure energy you only see in children on Christmas Day or at their first birthday with their own wand. That kind of bottled-up excitement that slips out no matter what. Nothing in his voice sounded rehearsed. Nothing calculated. Nothing sarcastic.
He was happy.
And not in an exaggerated or fake way. Truly happy.
I even thought he was really smiling too. Not that usual crooked grin of his, half mockery, half calculation, but a genuine, open, almost silly one. As if he couldn't believe he was buying all that and, at the same time, couldn't stop himself.
A smile crept onto my face without me realizing.
"You like sweets that much?" I asked, amused.
Ryan sat back down with an armful of candy and replied in his typical sarcastic tone, "Yes, ma'am. Guilty as charged. Besides, you know… it's the experience. I can't get on the Hogwarts Express and not buy magical sweets. I've got almost four hours of travel ahead. This is part of the package."
I chuckled softly. He was so different from how he'd seemed at first. Or, rather… this was also part of him, I just hadn't seen it before.
And something in me loosened a little more. As if seeing that simpler, more honest, even sillier side of him… was making me like him more.
"I'm glad you're enjoying the trip," I told him, and this time I really meant it.
"Hard not to," he murmured. "Good view, good book, good sweets… good company."
I froze for a second. Not because of the words themselves, but because of how he said them.
There was no emphasis. No exaggerated, ironic, or overly obvious tone. He said it with such calmness that it made me doubt whether he was joking, making an offhand remark… or if he had just flirted with me. In his own way.
He turned his eyes back to the wrapper of a bean as if he hadn't said anything unusual.
I blinked. Felt the warmth rising slightly in my face. Not too much, but enough that I had to pretend I was very interested in my pumpkin juice.
"Oh," was all I managed to say, like an idiot. Very eloquent, Rosemary.
Fortunately, Emmeline stepped in. Though her style wasn't exactly compassionate.
"And are you also enjoying my company, Ryan?" she asked, not raising her voice much, but with that elegant edge of hers, as if every word had been sharpened with precision. "Or is it only Pandora's that deserves such distinction?"
I looked at her, surprised by the comment. It wasn't an attack. But it had venom. Or at least irony. As if she wanted to see whether Ryan was capable of returning the ball with style… or if he would stumble.
Ryan lifted his eyes slowly from his packet of beans, and for a second I thought he wouldn't know what to say.
But no.
He looked at her, and smiled. Not his usual crooked smile, nor the silly one from before, but the kind that's a mix of intelligence and complicity.
"Of course, your company is very good for me," he replied. "An interesting conversation, a sharp mind… and, besides, I gained a client for my new invention. What more could I ask for?"
The tone was soft, confident. Not flattering.
Emmeline watched him for a couple more seconds, as if weighing him. Then she turned back to her book without further comment, but I noticed she didn't turn the page. She was smiling. Just barely. But she was.
I, meanwhile, was still processing what had just happened. What Ryan had said to me. What he had answered to Emmeline. And how calm he seemed the entire time, as if every word of his was measured, but not forced.
It was strange and charming.
And that, of course, made him all the more dangerous.
I drank a little more juice, trying to hide the fact that my stomach now felt more fluttery than hungry. Because I wasn't really sure what was happening anymore.
General POV
After the comment to Pandora, after giving back the galleon, even after the over-the-top parade of magical sweets, Ryan leaned back comfortably in his seat. He had no intention of returning to the book. Not anymore. It had been useful to distract himself at the start, but now the distraction came from elsewhere.
He had almost been blinded by his own greed. He admitted it. A galleon for an hour. What had he been thinking? It wasn't about the amount, he had more than enough to consider it a joke, but about the principle. They were testing his invention to gauge its quality. Future buyers. And he wanted to charge them rent for using it for an hour.
Luckily, he realized in time. And corrected his mistake.
He hadn't done it out of consideration for Pandora. He didn't feel pity for her, or for anyone. Pity was a sentiment he despised. Pandora didn't need charity. Nor would she accept it. In fact, if he had done it out of compassion, she would have noticed immediately… and probably told him to go to hell.
He did it because he had been an idiot. And because one of the principles of business, good business, was knowing when to swallow your pride. Besides, the final price of the glasses would leave that galleon as nothing more than an insignificant footnote. Keeping it was simply ugly.
Now without the book, he began to talk with Pandora, who had also put hers away. She was more relaxed. Truly. Not like those first exchanges where it seemed every comment between them was bound to clash.
They shared ideas, the coming year at Hogwarts, even jokes. She had a curious way of seeing things, direct, but not harsh. Sometimes it seemed as though she rehearsed the words in her head before speaking them, and other times they came out as if she couldn't hold them back.
It seemed that Ryan's sincerity, when he spoke about the installments, when he didn't look down on her after she admitted she might not be able to afford the glasses, when he enjoyed the sweets, had made Pandora form a more favorable opinion of him. And Ryan noticed it in her eyes. In her posture. In the way she listened to him without putting up walls.
And Emmeline was there too. She didn't intervene as much, but she listened. When she did speak, never wasted breath. If she opened her mouth, it was to say something sharp, elegant, or with that tempered intelligence he had noticed from the first moment he saw her.
The train kept moving. The sky darkened. And the interior of the compartment felt warmer, lighter.
Ryan allowed himself a moment of reflection, resting his head against the seatback. Hogwarts awaited him.
For the first time, for him. Not the memories he carried. This was completely different.
If he had gotten excited just by buying chocolate frogs and every-flavor beans, he feared that when he saw the castle in the distance… he might have a heart attack. Literally. He needed to calm his fandom. At least in public.
On the other hand, the train ride had started well. He had met two lonely girls. Not lonely for the same reasons as him, but lonely all the same. One, because of her eccentricity and her straightforward way of seeing the world. The other, because of a kind of self-imposed isolation, a mix of high standards and the pleasure of solitude.
He had managed to sell a quill. Why did he sell it to Pandora for cheaper? In the shops, he sold the standard version for 7–9 galleons per unit.
So why five?
It wasn't pity. It was vision.
At that moment, producing those quills cost him very little. Materials had always been a minimal expense, a standard eagle quill cost him 0.59 galleons.
And now the labor, his work: inscribing the rune into the quill, only took him 15 minutes. It used to take 20. After making so many, he had improved greatly, and his efficiency had increased.
So selling one for five galleons was still a hefty profit.
And he had noticed that Pandora, though she seemed to come from a middle-class family and had the money to offer five galleons for a quill, had hesitated. Which meant that if he had tried to sell it to her at double the price, the deal would have fallen through. Maybe, if he had negotiated, he could have squeezed 7–8 galleons out of her. But… what for?
With his current capital, two or three extra galleons meant nothing.
He preferred to leave a good impression on a Hogwarts classmate, and also a future buyer of his glasses.
So, out of strategy, not sympathy, he adjusted the price.
On the other hand, though he'd never admit it out loud, sharing a carriage with two such beautiful girls, wasn't bad. Not at all.
Each with a different kind of beauty, strong, impossible to ignore. Pandora, with that ethereal eccentricity that seemed drawn out of an enchanted forest. Emmeline, with that serene elegance that commanded respect effortlessly.
The train began to slow down, the metallic screech of the wheels echoing beneath their feet. Ryan straightened up, as if something inside him knew that the moment had finally come to fulfill one of his dreams: to see the real Hogwarts.
The train came to a stop at Hogsmeade Station.
The hanging lanterns glowed with a nostalgic warmth, and the night mist drifted above the cobblestone ground.