September 1st.
My hair, which I'd let turn green for the holidays, was once again dyed black.
I spent a moment staring at the mirror with the same disgruntled look as this time last year, then headed out at Deek's urging.
"Master, I'll see you at Hogwarts later!"
"Alright. See you then."
"Bye, Deek!"
After settling the bill for our long-term stay at the hotel, we headed straight for King's Cross Station.
Just like last year, we entered Platform 9¾ and met Hermione and Ron, one after the other.
A red-haired girl—Ginny, was it?—shyly tapping her foot behind Ron, greeted Harry, and the four of us boarded the train bound for Hogwarts.
We settled into a four-person compartment and, just like last year, chatted while snacking on sweets.
In the middle of our conversation, Harry spoke up, a puzzled look on his face.
"By the way, did you see Malfoy earlier?"
"Malfoy? Why are you asking about that jerk?"
At Ron's question, Harry explained, "Well, when he passed us earlier. Normally, he would have picked a fight for sure, but he just glanced at us and walked by."
"Did he? I didn't even see him."
"Well, either way, it's better than him starting something, right? Or maybe he learned his lesson after what happened in Diagon Alley."
Ron, seeming to recall the incident, threw an uppercut into the air and snickered.
"Or maybe he's plotting something? He's not bothering us because he has some scheme up his sleeve."
Behind Harry's suspicion was Dobby's warning about the "plot" this year. Of course, thinking Malfoy was the mastermind was a stretch beyond mere speculation, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling.
Ron shrugged. "What kind of plot could Malfoy possibly cook up now? We didn't even get caught with Norbert last time."
"I guess you're right."
"Of course. If you're that curious, you want to go and see what he's up to?"
"Hmm, that's not a bad idea!"
"Ah, wait, Harry. I'm going to buy snacks, let's go together."
Harry and Ron invited us to join them as they left the compartment, but neither Hermione nor I were particularly interested in what Malfoy was doing, so we declined.
Soon, the two were gone, and I was left alone with Hermione, feeding Ardeura a snack. As usual, it was a dried Kraken leg.
Hermione was watching the scene with interest.
"Aisen, I've been meaning to ask. What kind of parrot is Ardeura?"
"Hm? What kind of parrot?"
"That snack you're giving her. Isn't that dried squid?"
"...I guess so."
I answered Hermione, who could never have imagined that Ardeura was happily tearing into a creature with a danger rating of XXXXX. After a moment of thought, I figured a Kraken was basically a giant squid, right?
But upon hearing my answer, Hermione's eyes lit up pleasantly. "By the way, Aisen, did you know?"
"Know what?"
"I looked it up after I met Ardeura. Parrots are a type of bird that mostly inhabits tropical regions. Because of that, their beaks are adapted for eating things like dried grains."
"...And?"
"But strangely, Ardeura seems to love things like dried squid and beef jerky."
*Chirp… chirrup?*
Understanding the conversation, Ardeura stopped tearing at the squid, her beak pausing mid-air. She then twirled her thick parrot tongue and tried to look nonchalant. She twisted her neck this way and that before finally spotting a nutty snack among our pile of treats and snatching it up.
*Chirrup! Chirp!*
She began crunching on the almond as if to assert her identity as a true parrot.
Despite Ardeura's excuse, Hermione's meaningful smile only deepened. It was already too late.
I forced an awkward laugh. "We-ell. Like I said before, I found Ardeura in the wild, so I don't really know what species she is. Maybe parrots in the magical world are carnivorous?"
*Chirrup! Chirp!*
Ardeura chirped repeatedly in agreement.
But Hermione was not so easily swayed.
"Oh, *really*? In that case, should we go to the library soon and look up what kind of parrot species loves jerky so much? I'm sure I saw Newt Scamander's *Encyclopedia of Magical Birds* there!"
"Hermione, do we really need to look it up? Her species isn't that important…"
"No way, Aisen. For an owner not to know his own parrot's species! How can you possibly know what she likes if you don't?"
I couldn't think of a single rebuttal to Hermione's sound logic. It wasn't as if we could find a species in an encyclopedia that perfectly matched Ardeura's current form. I had simply transformed her based on a generic image of a parrot in my mind, and Ardeura acted like a normal phoenix.
Just as I was trying to figure a way out of this predicament, a helping hand reached out from an unexpected place.
*Meow!*
Crookshanks, the cat Hermione had put in a cage, stretched and stood up.
The cage door had been locked, but as if such flimsy bars were no obstacle, Crookshanks opened it with his claws and stepped out.
He then spotted Ardeura in her avian form and, wagging his tail, unsheathed his claws as if about to pounce.
Of course, Ardeura, a magical phoenix, felt not an iota of threat, but to an outside observer, it was a situation in which a parrot was in grave danger.
The clever Ardeura didn't miss the opportunity and began acting frightened, flapping her wings frantically.
*Kee-eek! Kyeek!*
I hastily scooped Ardeura into my arms and said to Hermione, "Hermione, I think we need to calm her down before we go looking for parrot species. Could you put Crookshanks back in his cage?"
"Oh, y-yes! I'm so sorry! I don't know why he suddenly came out!"
Equally flustered, Hermione picked up Crookshanks and carefully placed him back in the cage.
But as he was being put back inside, Crookshanks made eye contact with us for a split second and winked.
*…Did he do that on purpose?*
If so, that cat was the most intelligent feline I had ever seen.
Inwardly sending Crookshanks my admiration and gratitude, I gave him a subtle wave.
Thankfully, thanks to the distraction Crookshanks provided, Hermione didn't bring up Ardeura again, though she did continue to eye the snacking phoenix with suspicion.
Ardeura avoided Hermione's gaze and nibbled on her nuts.
To be honest, seeing Ardeura in a tight spot for once—a pleasant change from her usual habit of mocking my farces—was more amusing than anything else, and I had to suppress a laugh.
Hedwig growled, also finding the scene amusing. *Tsk, tsk,* I thought. *She won't learn her lesson until Hermione starts asking her, 'Why does an owl growl?'*
***
After the commotion had passed and Hermione and I had managed to change the subject, Harry and Ron returned.
With less than an hour until our arrival, they came back with their arms full of even more snacks.
"We're almost there. What's all that for?"
Ron mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate drops, "Don't worry. We'll finish it before then."
"Be that as it may, what happened when you went to see Malfoy?"
At Hermione's question, Harry let out a hollow laugh. "He was the same as always. Cursed at us, sneered at us. He's perfectly healthy, so it looks like there's nothing to worry about."
"See? I told you it was a wasted trip."
After Harry and Ron returned empty-handed, we passed the time by eating the mountain of additional snacks Ron had brought, and before we knew it, we had arrived at Hogwarts.
Except for the first-years being led by Hagrid, the rest of the students, including us, boarded the self-moving carriages. Of course, a few people knew that the carriages weren't moving by themselves.
"Master, that…!"
"Yes, Harry. They're Thestrals."
And Harry was now one of those few.
During the carriage ride, Ron nudged Harry. "These carriages, moving on their own… don't they seem just like those Muggle things called 'cars'?"
*If you could see what I'm seeing, you'd never say that.* Regardless of Harry's silent scoff, Ron continued with a serious expression, "We actually have a flying car at home… Maybe these carriages are enchanted with the same magic?"
Of course, unless the horse in the Lamborghini logo was secretly a Thestral, that was impossible.
Riding in the carriages pulled by Thestrals—visible only to those who have comprehended death—we soon arrived at the main castle of Hogwarts.
As always, there was the splendid Start-of-Term Feast and the solemn Sorting Ceremony.
There was a moment when Ron's sister, the red-haired Ginny Weasley, caused the Great Hall to erupt in laughter when the Sorting Hat shouted, "Another blasted Weasley! Gryffindor!" before it was even placed on her head, but for the most part, the ceremony was solemn.
I ordered a French-style steak, inwardly thinking the rather rude thought that Deek's or Kreacher's cooking was much better.
This food was all made by house-elves too, so was the difference in taste due to mass production? Then again, the Hogwarts house-elves' cooking process was a bit… feral.
As I was spacing out while spooning soup into my mouth, Albus tapped his goblet with a spoon, the clear sound drawing everyone's attention.
"Well, everyone. Another year has begun. Blah blah blah, yadda yadda. Anything more I say as Headmaster will only delay your meal. But since there are procedures that must be followed, I will make this quick. We have invited a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor to teach you this year. Please welcome Gilderoy Lockhart."
Following the introduction from a perpetually cheerful Albus, Lockhart, who had been sitting at one end of the staff table, shot to his feet and gave an exaggerated bow.
It was a flashy, theatrical bow, like an actor taking a curtain call. Of course, he didn't forget to flash his trademark pearly-white smile.
"Hello, everyone! It is I, the one you all know and love! This year, you will all be immersed in the fantastic experience provided by yours truly. You will enjoy lessons as enchanting as a novel! However, do try not to get too immersed. If you do, you may never be able to escape my charm! Hahaha! Thank you!"
The reaction in the Great Hall was divided between those who welcomed Lockhart and those who paid him no mind.
The former group was overwhelmingly female.
Hermione, sitting next to me, was one of them.
She stared at Lockhart with an expression that looked like she was about to melt.
"Oh my gosh, you guys. Aren't you excited for Professor Lockhart's classes? I've read every single one of his books!"
*That…* no. I shouldn't shatter her illusions.
She was so smitten that I felt genuinely sorry at the thought of breaking her fantasy.
It was Ron who had the sharp reaction.
"Ugh, Lockhart. I'm so sick of him. My mum is absolutely obsessed with his books."
Well, whatever the case, I was eager for his class to start. To be honest, I wasn't expecting much from any other aspect of it. I'd be thankful if he just covered the basics.
There was only one thing I was looking forward to. He had to be skilled enough at the Memory Charm for Albus to acknowledge it, right?
I hoped we would have a lesson on Memory Charms soon. I doubted I had anything to learn, but who knew?
Perhaps this would be an opportunity to develop a Chain Obliviate.
"…Sunbae-nim?"
From the head table, Albus blinked, as if sensing something ominous, but there was nothing he could do.
***