With a loud CRACK, the chaotic bustle of King's Cross Station materialised around Ciel and Professor Sprout. The air was thick with a unique blend of Muggle commuters and nervous wizarding families, the latter identifiable by their strange clothing and overflowing luggage carts laden with owls and other magical creatures. An undercurrent of tension hummed beneath the noise, with stern-faced Ministry of Magic employees trying to look inconspicuous as they patrolled the station.
"Every year, the first of September is one of the most important days in the magical world," Professor Sprout explained, her voice low. "The Ministry pulls out all the stops to make sure nothing goes wrong. The Confundus Charms around here are strong enough to make Muggles overlook almost anything." She leaned in closer. "And this year, security is especially tight. I heard there was a break-in at Gringotts. Some audacious wizard actually managed to get into one of the vaults."
Ciel's mind connected the dots. So that was why the Hogwarts Express departed from one of London's busiest Muggle stations. He'd always found it strange, a blatant risk to the Statute of Secrecy. But with a dedicated team of wizards maintaining the magical confusion, it made a strange sort of sense.
Hearing about the Gringotts incident sent a ripple of recognition through him. It seemed that even with his own unexpected presence, the great, grinding wheels of fate were turning just as they should. The epic conflict between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort was beginning anew.
He pushed the thought aside, reaffirming his own quiet mission. That has nothing to do with me. I came to Hogwarts for one reason: to plant things.
Just as Professor Sprout was about to lead him toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, a formidable-looking, white-haired old lady approached them, a round-faced, nervous-looking boy trailing in her wake.
A look of pleasant surprise lit up Professor Sprout's face. "Augusta! What a lovely surprise." She turned to Ciel. "This is Augusta Longbottom, and this is her grandson, Neville. Our families are related, you see. Ciel, that makes Neville your distant cousin."
Ciel blinked in surprise. The Sprouts and the Longbottoms are related? Then again, he recalled reading that most of the old wizarding families were intertwined. It wasn't so shocking. He quickly offered a polite greeting to Mrs. Longbottom and a small smile to Neville, who mumbled a shy, "Hello, cousin."
Augusta Longbottom eyed her grandson with clear dissatisfaction. "Neville, this boy is far too timid," she declared, though not unkindly. "You are meant to uphold the Longbottom name! Stand up straight!"
The stern words only made Neville shrink further into himself. His grandmother let out a helpless sigh, then turned her attention back to Ciel, her expression softening.
"Child," she said, her voice warm. "I was overjoyed to hear you had returned to the Sprout family. You and Neville will be attending Hogwarts together. I must ask you to look after him. He is dreadfully forgetful."
"It's no trouble at all," Ciel replied smoothly. "We'll look out for each other. Given our families' connection, it's only right that we offer mutual support."
His diplomatic words clearly pleased the old witch. After a few more pleasantries, they made their way toward the hidden platform.
A moment later, they were through the barrier, standing before the gleaming, crimson engine of the Hogwarts Express. The platform was a sea of people—students hauling trunks, first-years with red, teary eyes hugging their parents, and owls hooting from their cages. Witnessing the iconic scene firsthand, Ciel couldn't help but feel a thrill of awe. This is so much more real than the movies.
The sheer volume of the crowd, however, was overwhelming. After Augusta gave Neville a long list of final instructions, she finally waved them off. "Alright, you two. Quickly now, get on the train and find a compartment."
"Ciel," Professor Sprout added, her eyes twinkling. "If you run into any trouble on the train, find the Hufflepuff prefect. I will see you at the Sorting Ceremony."
Ciel and Neville boarded the train. Seeing Neville struggle to lift his heavy trunk, Ciel reached over and effortlessly hoisted it onto the overhead rack. "Let me help."
Neville stared at him, wide-eyed. "Thank you, Cousin Ciel… You're really strong."
Ciel just smiled, giving his aunt and Mrs. Longbottom one last wave before leading Neville down the corridor in search of an empty compartment.
On the platform, Professor Sprout watched them go, her gaze soft. "It looks like they're getting along well."
Augusta nodded, but a worried frown creased her brow. "Pomona, I am so worried about Neville. He's so clumsy… so easily bullied. And…" Her expression grew more troubled. "I'm not even sure if he can keep up with the coursework. We all thought he was a Squib for so long. If he can't learn magic and gets expelled… I just don't know what I'd do." She hesitated. "I heard Ciel's magical talent isn't very high, either?"
Professor Sprout's face darkened slightly. "That's Ollivander's assessment, isn't it?" She let out a short, dismissive sniff. "If that man could truly see a wizard's destiny, he should apply for the Divination post. Just you wait, Augusta. He will regret his judgement." She raised her chin, her voice filled with a fierce, unshakeable pride. "My Ciel has legendary potential!"
Augusta looked at her, stunned. She had never known Pomona Sprout to be a boastful person. This boy, Ciel, must have some truly special qualities. A pang of sadness and envy struck her. Oh, how she wished she could say the same for her own grandson with such confidence.
"Well," she sighed, "I just hope some of Ciel's spirit rubs off on my Neville."
Meanwhile, Ciel and Neville had found an empty compartment. With hours to go before they reached Hogwarts, Ciel had no intention of wasting time.
Under Neville's curious gaze, he opened his suitcase and carefully removed several small pots. Planted within each was a tiny, jade-green sprout shaped curiously like a goldfish. They were no bigger than a fingernail, but they pulsed with a quiet, vibrant energy.
"What are those?" Neville asked, leaning in for a closer look.
A smile touched the corner of Ciel's mouth. "This is a rather special magical herb."
He leaned back, admiring his handiwork.
"Its name is Goldfish Vine."
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