"Devon, are you alright?"
Harry was the first to speak, his face full of concern. The others also looked at Devon with worried expressions. Neville, in particular, was still in shock. He had just grabbed Crabbe by the collar, and the next second, Crabbe collapsed like a pile of mud. It had truly startled him.
However, after spending even this short time together, they had all come to see Devon as a steady, helpful, and all-around good student. None of them expected him to act the way he had just now.
By this point, Devon had mostly calmed down.
"I'm fine… um, just, uh, just..."
He was still somewhat dazed, unable to explain the sudden impulse that had overtaken him.
Suddenly, Devon began breathing rhythmically, instinctively. Before long, he felt a wave of clarity wash over him. The agitation of magic within him began to settle, and even the magical energy he had just burned through casting spells seemed to be recovering.
Devon opened his eyes in disbelief.
Was he unconsciously practicing the Zen meditation technique? The results were astonishing!
"It's okay, Devon. If I knew those spells, I would've done the same to them!"
Ron patted Devon on the shoulder.
Neville nodded repeatedly.
"Yeah, those spells are probably for upper-year students! Devon, you're way stronger than them!"
"Thank you, guys."
Devon forced a smile. The Zen meditation method had truly shocked him with its effectiveness. He was even tempted to try it again immediately. But for now, what lingered more in his mind was the question: Why had his emotions become so uncontrollable?
It felt like some sort of physiological reaction. The moment he heard that word, the magic in his body seemed to boil over. It surged into his brain, overwhelming his rationality. In that moment, all he could think of was hitting that arrogant guy. He didn't want to think; he just wanted to act.
Now, as he reflected, he felt frightened by what had almost happened. Thankfully, he didn't know many dark magic spells yet. He had nearly cast Avada Kedavra right at the boy's face.
He had attacked a classmate on the train to school.
What kind of punishment would that lead to?
Just thinking about it made Devon feel anxious again.
"Wait a minute, everyone," Hermione interrupted, waving her hand. "Let's not forget that we just knocked three classmates into other carriages on the Hogwarts Express."
"I just want to say—what we did was reckless. We could be expelled for this!"
Classic first-year Hermione. Before the troll incident, she was still the rigid rule-follower who placed utmost importance on school regulations.
Ron jumped up.
"Reckless? They deserved it! Did you hear what he called you? That word's basically like calling your whole family pigs. Do you understand?"
Ron spoke indignantly. Neville nodded in agreement—rare for him to take such a stand.
"Like 'Paki'?" Hermione said, referencing the derogatory term used in the UK for South Asians.
Her expression changed. In that moment, she seemed to understand why everyone had been so furious earlier.
Harry, of course, didn't grasp the deeper meaning. He was just angry because Malfoy insulted his friends.
"No wonder... he... just asked me..." Hermione muttered, her head down. She must have had a run-in with Malfoy before arriving at Devon's carriage.
Suddenly, she raised her head. Her face was flushed with anger. She looked like a small lion with her fur standing on end. Without a word, she stood up, yanked the carriage door open, and was ready to storm out.
Devon jumped up and blocked her.
"What are you going to do?"
"Teach them a lesson. Let go, Devon!" Hermione struggled, trying to push past him.
But she couldn't overpower him.
"Calm down," Devon said gently. "You saw—I've already dealt with them. Let me take the blame alone. I don't want you getting into trouble with the school."
Maybe it was the Zen meditation's influence, but his tone was calm and sincere. His eyes locked with hers, carrying an air of unwavering resolve.
Hermione, ever stubborn, tried pushing him again, cheeks puffed with frustration. But then, she backed down and returned to her seat.
Devon let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Was Hermione always this easy to talk down? Or… could Zen meditation actually enhance one's persuasiveness?
He decided he'd test that theory later.
For now, he was simply glad that the Big Three wouldn't be broken apart because of him. After all, whether he stayed at Hogwarts didn't really matter to him. He was already a prodigy in wand-making, potions, and magic. Becoming a Potions Master under Snape was only a matter of time.
Expulsion? That would only scare off Harry and Hermione. It didn't faze Devon.
What he did regret, however, was possibly losing the [Entry Upgrade Card] that Hogwarts provided—and the annual supply of blue entries.
Still, in this moment, things felt simple. Peaceful.
The tension in the carriage gradually faded. Though it was cramped with five of them, they relaxed with Harry's snacks and occasional spell tricks from Hermione and Devon. They chatted and laughed.
As the original book said: people who went through special moments together often became fast friends.
Beating up an arrogant young master who used discriminatory slurs was definitely one of those bonding moments.
"Hey, Devon," Harry asked, "Do you know what kind of trials there'll be at the Sorting Ceremony?"
He looked worried, clearly lacking confidence.
Without Draco Malfoy's presence, the atmosphere was now relaxed. Naturally, the topic shifted to their upcoming Hogwarts life.
"Will the Sorting Ceremony be scary?" Ron added, his voice tinged with nervousness. "I heard it might even hurt."
Harry and Neville looked alarmed. 'If I have to duel someone and I don't know any magic...' Hermione's brows furrowed too. She was clearly pondering the same thing.
Devon smiled quietly.
'How dangerous can wearing a hat be? Ron's brothers must've fooled him again.'
Still, he didn't say that out loud. Instead, he said with a calm smile,
"Don't worry, Ron. The Sorting Hat is just a magical object. It won't hurt anyone."
But of course, they were all first-years, so Devon's words didn't reassure them much.
Then the conversation turned to houses.
Ron and Neville both hoped for Gryffindor, known for courage and adventure. Their families had mostly gone there.
Harry, meanwhile, worried he might end up in Hufflepuff.
Hermione was torn between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor—her intellect suited Ravenclaw, but her bravery pulled her toward Gryffindor.
Eventually, they asked Devon which house he wanted.
"Me? Most likely Ravenclaw," Devon replied with a smile.
He had his reasons. Professor Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw, was not only a master duelist but also a Charms expert. If Devon could get close to him, maybe he'd get some advanced spell training on the side.
The thought brought a spark of anticipation to his eyes.
Of course, there was still the looming threat of expulsion. But he kept those concerns to himself and continued chatting cheerfully with the group.
Soon, at Hermione's reminder, they all put on their Hogwarts uniforms and robes. The sky outside was growing darker.
They snacked and talked, and Devon shared funny stories and personal experiences from Diagon Alley. His tales completely captivated the others.
The carriage was filled with laughter and warmth.
At one point, Devon leaned back and closed his eyes, pretending to nap. But in truth, he began practicing the Zen meditation method again.
As before, a calm clarity enveloped him. He could feel the flow of magic within himself. Following the sage's guidance in his mind, he began to manipulate and expand his spiritual power, allowing it to circulate through the carriage.
Strangely, none of the others seemed to notice anything unusual. Devon should have been excited by this new ability—but instead, he was deeply calm, quietly refining and cycling his energy.
To the others, it just looked like he had dozed off.
Until the sky outside turned completely dark.
A low, mechanical whirring sounded.
The train slowly came to a stop.
Devon opened his eyes.
They had arrived—at last—Hogwarts!
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