"For Merlin’s sake, Ron—" Hermione stood up angrily.

"I’m going to punish Gall by making him write sentences; that will be the end of him. He hates writing," Ron said happily.

He lowered his voice, imitating Gall’s rough and hoarse voice while scrunching his face as if painfully concentrating, pretending to write in the air: "I... can’t... like... a baboon’s... butt."

Everyone burst into laughter, but no one laughed as hard as Luna.

She let out a string of sharp, piercing laughter, giving Neville a start.

Luna laughed so hard that the magazine in her hand fell, sliding from her lap to the floor.

"Oh, ’The Quibbler’." Hermione picked it up, smacking her lips, her eyebrows twisting like a wavy line.

She glanced down at it, then looked up and said, "According to the magazine, if you reverse these ancient demon runes, you’ll see they’re actually a spell that can turn your enemy’s ear into a kumquat..."

At this point, her tone suddenly turned sharp and caustic, like Pansy’s, "The Quibbler is a pile of rubbish, everyone knows that."

"I’m sorry," Luna said, her voice suddenly not so dreamy anymore, "My father is the magazine’s editor."

"I... oh," Hermione said awkwardly, "Well, some parts are quite interesting... I mean, it still is..."

Luna’s face fell, and she leaned over to snatch the magazine from Hermione’s hand, flipping through it with determination until page fifty-seven, turning it upside down to hide her face behind it.

The atmosphere in the compartment was a bit awkward, especially for Hermione, who wished she could find a hole to hide in.

It was incredibly awkward, calling someone’s father’s magazine ’a pile of rubbish’ right in front of them was downright impolite.

"Well, maybe it’s not," Harry said with a chuckle, "You see, that ancient magic rune part was quite right."

"You think so too?" Luna asked, not lowering the book, her voice muffled.

At this moment, the compartment door was pulled open again.

"Potter!" Draco said excitedly, "I’m going to put you in detention—look, I’m a class prefect now!"

Harry said nothing, just turned to look at Luna, and seeing she had lowered the magazine, he raised his wand at Draco.

Soon, Draco’s ears turned into a bright, yellow-orange tangerine.

"Ah, it really turned into a tangerine," Ron clapped his hands with a laugh.

"Hey? What did you do?" Draco suddenly felt his ears heavy and touched them to find they had turned into round, weighty things.

"Hey!" Draco said in dissatisfaction, "I was just joking with you, no need to take it so seriously, right? Anyway, it wasn’t me who wanted to give you detention; it was Cassandra’s order for me to do so—I’ll have to tell Cassandra about this!"

Harry: ...

Oh, I see, now you’re not going to your dad, but your great aunt instead?

Good grandson!

"Telling her won’t do any good," Harry said with a smile, "I’m not afraid of her."

Draco coughed twice, and his ears returned to their normal state.

It was Harry, Harry had lifted the spell.

Draco heaved a sigh of relief, then pulled out a bag, handed it to Harry, and said, "This is from Cassandra for you, she said she altered the Gryffindor school uniform..."

Harry took the bag, opened it, and saw two school uniform jackets and a few scarves, all imbued with Cassandra’s scent.

Damn.

It’s the original scent, right?

"She said they were clothes she wore," Draco said without any sense of having said anything inappropriate, "After all, keeping them was of no use to her, better given to her boyfriend—honestly, Harry, I didn’t expect you two to wear the same size clothes."

Across from them, Annie looked surprised, but after a moment of furrowed brows, she relaxed with a sigh.

She had heard before that Harry wore Cassandra’s old robes; it seems... it really wasn’t mere rumor.

"You’re not even as tall as me," Harry retorted.

In fact, Cassandra had altered the size larger, since Harry was now a bit taller than her.

Ever heard of the value of a supermodel physique?

"Alright, since I’ve delivered the items, I’ll take my leave first," Draco said with a grin, "I better hurry and see if the Weasley twins are causing trouble, so I can dock points from them—don’t you agree, Weasley?"

Draco said this looking at Ron.

Ron wanted to punch him but held back.

He decided to have mutual fun with Draco; since you’re targeting Gryffindor, don’t blame me for stepping on Slytherin!

After Draco left, Harry sat there, resting his forehead against the window, his arms hugging Cassandra’s clothes.

From afar, Hogwarts was in sight, but it was a moonless night and the rain-splattered window was dirty.

"We better change our clothes," Hermione finally said.

She and Ron carefully pinned the class prefect badges to their chests, and Harry watched Ron’s reflection in the dark window as he adjusted his appearance.

Finally, the train slowly decelerated, and they heard a bustle because everyone was busy gathering their luggage and pets, ready to disembark.

Ron and Hermione had to maintain order, so they disappeared from the compartment again.

"I still don’t understand," Harry said, looking up at the weather, "Why does it always rain or cloud over at the start of the school year, is there some kind of pattern?"

"Perhaps it’s due to some unknown factors," Luna’s ethereal voice sounded from behind him, "You know, Hogwarts always has secrets that are hard for us to fully know."

"Maybe, maybe the founders wanted the first-years to fully experience some pioneering hardships." Harry shrugged.

They slowly moved out of the compartment, joining the hallway crowd, for the first time feeling the sting of the night air on their faces.

They moved towards the door slowly, Harry could smell the scent of pine trees lining the path to the lake.

Getting off the train at the platform, they looked around, ears tuned for that familiar voice: "First-years over here? First-years?"

Before Harry could greet Hagrid, he felt someone poke his waist.

Turning around, it was Annie with a timid look.

"Harry..." Her big eyes were strikingly bright, exuding a pitiful charm, "Should I go with him, or..."

"Oh, you just follow me," Harry said with a smile, "You’re not really a newcomer—you’re a fifth-year old student, aren’t you?"

"Oh, oh, yes," Annie murmured, looking around.

Once more, Harry looked up, meeting Hagrid’s searching gaze.

As their eyes met, both raised their arms high, waving in greeting.

"I think," Harry said, turning back to Annie, "when you’re in school, you should spend time with Hagrid, he’s very nice, and he makes delicious stuff, like rock cake..."