Seeing a boy her own age touching her knee, Hermione flushed a little, but she quickly pushed the embarrassment aside.
She latched onto the boy at once, peppering him with questions as she walked at his side.
"What spell was that just now? Was it a Healing Charm?
"But Healing Charms don't usually have a golden magic circle like that—so what was that circle?
"Oh—how rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?"
The constant chirping at his ear didn't bother Harry at all. Hermione's lively curiosity reminded him of Gwen.
This little witch beside him was a bit like Gwen: studious and clever.
Harry didn't mind answering Hermione's questions, though he did need to tweak the truth a little.
He definitely couldn't expose Kamar-Taj—not yet, anyway.
After a moment's thought, he gave her the answer he'd prepared.
"I'm Harry Potter. And that was a Healing Charm—but not in the normal sense.
"During the holidays I read 'Ancient Magic and Spells Long Forgotten', and I learned that some old spells have to be cast through magic circles.
"So I made a small modification to the Healing Charm and added a circle to it. That boosts its power."
"Merlin, you haven't even started at school yet and you're already modifying spells—that's incredible!
"No… wait! You said your name is what—Harry Potter! The Harry Potter from 'A History of Modern Magic'? The saviour? Oh my gosh…"
Harry quickly clapped a hand over Hermione's mouth.
"Shh… keep it down. I really don't want everyone realizing who I am. Otherwise we'll get stared at like zoo animals again, and we might even end up late."
Hermione bobbed her head like a pecking chicken, and only then did Harry take his hand away.
He levitated Hermione's luggage into the air, and the two of them boarded the train together. Near the middle of the carriage they found an empty compartment, stowed their trunks on the overhead racks, and sat down.
Once they were alone in the compartment, Hermione still kept her voice low.
"So you really are Harry Potter. No wonder you can modify a Healing Charm.
"I heard you've got a lightning-shaped scar on your forehead. Can I see it?"
Harry indulged the little otter's curiosity, lifting his fringe to reveal the faint lightning scar.
It used to be deep black, as if scorched there by a real bolt of lightning—impossible to miss.
But the Sorcerer Supreme had told him she'd destroyed the fragment of soul hidden in the scar, so now it was flesh-colored and much less obvious.
At first, Harry hadn't known what that fragment of soul was. Now he suspected it had to be connected to the mysterious man.
Once her curiosity was satisfied, Hermione still wanted to ask more, like whether Harry had really seen the mysterious man that night.
But she'd read in "A History of Modern Magic" that Harry's parents had died that very day. Hermione decided not to ask. She didn't want to force Harry to relive it.
Just then, the compartment's sliding door opened and a tall, skinny red-haired boy with a long nose stepped inside. Pointing at the seats opposite Harry and Hermione, he asked:
"Anyone sittin' here? Everywhere else is full."
Hermione shook her head. The boy dropped into the seat by the window. He didn't seem to be very good at talking to people; as soon as he sat down, he turned to stare out the window, giving off strong "social anxiety" vibes.
Then, catching a glimpse of something in the glass, he turned back and pointed at Harry's forehead.
"Blimey, Merlin's beard—what's that? A lightning scar?
"Are you… are you Harry Potter?"
The boy had sharp eyes; even with the scar so faint, he'd still spotted it.
Harry felt a little helpless. Other people might see the "saviour" title as an honour; to him, it was nothing but a burden.
The Sorcerer Supreme never needed honours from anyone else. The Sorcerer Supreme was honour.
"Yes, I'm Harry Potter," he said. "Nice to meet you."
"Hi, Harry, I'm Ron." Ron was clearly not as tactful as Hermione; he blurted out his next question without hesitation.
"Is that lightning scar on your head 'cause of You-Know-Who?"
"Yes, but I don't really remember it."
"Don't remember anything at all?"
"Well… I remember a little green light, a spell called 'Avada Gnaw-da-Melon' (阿瓦达啃大瓜), my parents crying… and Voldemort looking shocked. That enough detail for you?"
"Oh—I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to…" Ron quickly realized what he'd just done. His face went as red as his hair, shame flooding his features as he whipped his head toward the window, too embarrassed to meet Harry's eyes.
So Ron hadn't meant any harm—very different from that blond little wizard.
Harry forgave the rudeness.
As a future Sorcerer Supreme, Harry was strong. He didn't tremble at those old memories; on the contrary, he'd been using his magic to constantly rewind that night in his mind.
He was trying to dig up more details from the depths of his memory and track Voldemort down as soon as possible—so he could kill him.
He'd already gained something: that spell he'd mentioned, "Avada Gnaw-da-Melon," was one of them.
But he knew very well that his version of the spell wasn't the same as the original Killing Curse. At first he hadn't known that the Killing Curse's effect was to annihilate the soul, so he had simply created a spell of his own based on the green magical trajectory of Avada Kedavra.
These days, calling "Avada Gnaw-da-Melon" a Killing Curse was a bit off. It was more like a disintegration spell.
It was more terrifying than the Killing Curse—capable of instantly tearing apart both soul and flesh.
If you were hit by the disintegration spell, unless you were an undying existence like a dimensional demon god, even an Asgardian god would die.
Thinking of dimensional demon gods made Harry uneasy again. He hadn't found anything in wizarding books that clearly mentioned beings like them—only a few things that might be similar.
With that in mind, Harry turned to Ron.
"Ron, is your whole family made up of witches and wizards?"
"Oh, yeah. I s'pose so…"
"Then have you ever heard of dimensional demon gods?"
"Dimensional demon gods?" Ron scrunched up his face, then after thinking for a while, shook his head.
"What are dimensional demon gods? I've never heard of 'em. What does it mean?"
Harry explained, "They're high-dimensional beings that rule over an entire dimension. They can destroy worlds with ease, and most of them are deeply hostile to humans. They can also recruit followers and lend…"
He stopped himself.
He did not plan to mention that dimensional demon gods could lend magic to their followers.
After all, lending power to other wizards was part of his own future plans.
"Tha—that's terrifying," Ron said, patting his chest with a relieved sigh. "Good thing there aren't any dimensional demon gods for real.
"But I have heard of something a bit like what you're talking about. The legendary figure of Death. Not as strong as the kind of demon gods you're describing, of course, and apparently even has to trick people to collect their souls."
Harry knew exactly what Ron was talking about. Death was one of the entities he was especially focused on—the being in this world that most resembled a dimensional demon god.
The story of Death and the Deathly Hallows was famous throughout the wizarding world. Most people thought it was just a fairy tale, but from various clues, Harry had reached a different conclusion:
Death was real.
...
PS: The legend of Death and the Deathly Hallows
It's said that, on a journey long ago, the three Peverell brothers used magic to conjure a bridge. When they reached the middle, Death appeared.
Death thought the three brothers were clever and wanted to trick them out of their lives. So he pretended to be impressed and told them he would grant each of them a wish.
The eldest brother was a combative man. He wanted the most powerful wand in the world, so Death gave him the Elder Wand.
The second brother was ruled by his feelings. He wished for the power to bring the dead back, so Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and handed it to him—that stone became known as the Resurrection Stone.
The youngest brother was wise and cautious. He didn't trust Death and asked for something that would keep him from being found. Death had no choice but to give him his own Cloak of Invisibility.
Later, the eldest brother, arrogant and thirsty for glory, was murdered in his sleep for his wand, and the Elder Wand changed hands.
The second brother used the Resurrection Stone to call back the woman he loved. But because he could never truly be with her, he fell into despair and took his own life; the stone was lost.
Only the youngest brother lived on for many years, hidden under the Cloak. When he grew very old, he finally removed the cloak, greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him, passing the Cloak of Invisibility on to his descendants.