The Little Wizards

"Hello, Miss Evans. May I sit next to you?"

His words immediately drew the attention of two other boys of similar age in the private room. For teenagers of this age, actively approaching the opposite sex often invites furtive ridicule. But the other two boys behaved with remarkable restraint.

This was probably because Lily Evans was sobbing softly, and they weren't deaf. At this moment, Edmund's image was more like a savior who rescued them from the awkward situation than a "sissy who loves to play with girls."

Ironically, Edmund's reason for making this request wasn't out of a pang of conscience or a desire to comfort the crying girl. He was simply indulging in a fit of spoiled brat syndrome, unwilling to sit opposite the disheveled boy.

So after Lily nodded tearfully, Edmund sat down casually, took out a box of German snacks, and shared them with everyone. He didn't say another word.

This was a real struggle for James Porter, who was extremely restless. He was his parents' youngest child, and although he had been pampered since childhood, he had a very loyal and righteous character. However, this loyalty hadn't taught him how to comfort a girl, so although he felt numb from Lily's sobs, he didn't even know how to respond.

Fortunately, a real "hero" soon came to his rescue. A boy who had changed into his school uniform and had a sallow complexion walked in and sat down directly opposite Lily.

Lily Evans couldn't hold back her anger the moment she saw him. She had just had a fight with her sister because the boy in front of her had secretly opened the letter from Hogwarts that had rejected Petunia's reply, and Lily had blurted out the truth that her sister was actually jealous of her.

What a childish distress! But it seemed to ignite her anxiety, causing her to cry incessantly. Fortunately, the pale-faced boy—Severus Snape—knew how to comfort her.

"But we're off!" Snape whispered, his voice brimming with barely suppressed joy. "We're off to Hogwarts!"

This genuine joy immediately touched the girl who was feeling anxious. Lily nodded, wiped away her tears, and couldn't help but smile.

But then, Snape's next words seemed to ignite something. He said impatiently:

"You'd better go to Slytherin."

No one knows why he thinks this way. Why would the half-blood wizard Snape want to enter Slytherin, a school that values ​​bloodlines? Perhaps his mother came from there? Or perhaps at only 11 years old, he had already awakened his ambition and hoped to go to the house that values ​​ability the most to realize his ideals?

However, in recent years... Slytherin's reputation has not been good.

"Slytherin?" James Potter turned his head, frowned, and then asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Who wants to go to Slytherin? I wouldn't want to stay there, don't you think?"

Edmund couldn't help but let out a sly smile. How amusing! He believed that if the children in this carriage were any older—two or three years older—they probably wouldn't have spoken so directly.

This statement sounds almost like an inquiry into the other person's political leanings:

Do you advocate protecting Muggles, or do you support pure-blood theory?

Sigh, what adult would speak so plainly? Only children—only children at this very moment still don't understand—the British magical world is already in turmoil.

A dangerous and wealthy secret society, entangled with British pure-blood families, has gained some traction, and from those different mouths comes the same message: Muggles should die, pure-bloods are supreme.

Old Soman had barely caught a whiff of it when he keenly realized something: this was an extremist force that had grown and thrived right under Dumbledore's nose. And their slogans were even more extreme and dangerous than old Grindelwald's elitism!

Therefore, old Soman's willingness to send Edmund to study in England was not without the intention of getting him involved and turning the entire British wizarding world upside down.

Anyway, if the sky falls, Dumbledore will hold it up, and even if he goes to hell, "Mysterio" will be there to keep Edmund company. At least he'll have company, which is pretty good, isn't it?

As for what Edmund thought...

Hahahaha.

He couldn't help but laugh out loud as he listened to the little argument inside the private room.

First, the gray-eyed boy, who had been silent until now, replied to the messy-haired boy, saying that his "whole family is Slytherin," but "maybe I will break the tradition." Then the messy-haired boy started gesturing childishly, saying that he would dig out "the courage buried deep in his heart."

Finally, the sallow-faced boy who had initially wanted to send Lily—the Muggle-born witch—to Slytherin scoffed dismissively, earning a glare from the wispy boy. Seeing that a battle was about to break out, Edmund couldn't hold back any longer.

"Hahahaha, this is hilarious!" He laughed so hard he almost fell over, immediately becoming the center of attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry, what I mean is, you guys are behaving like you're standing in front of a display case picking out your favorite ice cream flavor: Oh no, I don't like strawberry, I prefer blueberry."

Before he could be attacked by everyone for his harsh words, Edmund suddenly stood up and performed with great enthusiasm:

"If I possessed all the traits of Gryffindor—recklessness; Hufflepuff—stupidity; Ravenclaw—coldness; and Slytherin—hahahahaha, if I had all the flaws that come with the positive traits of all four houses…God, where would I be sorted?"

Edmund clapped and laughed, feeling he had told a near-perfect joke. He narcissistically surveyed the room, hoping for the applause he deserved. Lily Evans, however, just stared at him in astonishment, and the others were no better off, clearly not prepared to play along.

Tsk.

What do you do if a hilarious joke goes silent?

Of course, I'll tell you an even worse one.

However, the atmosphere didn't completely cool down. The most pampered of the four children, almost carefree, finally reacted and clapped his hands with suppressed laughter:

"Azkaban!"

After James Porter finished speaking, he couldn't help but burst into laughter twice.

"I'm not sure which college you'll be assigned to, but you'll definitely end up in Azkaban—want to bet?"

Edmund made a gesture of farewell, then gracefully sat back down. When he spoke again, his tone had returned to its usual politeness.

"I don't know what Azkaban is... but what do you want to bet?"

Edmund stared at James with a mixture of seriousness and amusement. Unfortunately, before James could reply, the more handsome, gray-eyed boy interrupted their conversation.

"What's your last name?"

"Soman".

The boy raised an eyebrow. He didn't recognize the surname, but judging from Edmund's mannerisms and the way he opened and shared the wizard snacks, the gray-eyed man knew that this person must be a pureblood.

"I am Sirius Black. Judging by your entourage... you still don't know where Azkaban is. Are you a foreigner?"

Edmund wasn't surprised that this young wizard, whose entire family was Slytherin, could guess so accurately. He nodded with a forced smile and formally introduced himself:

"I am Edmund Somann, and I am German."

"James Porter, it's a pleasure to meet you."

James' tone was perfunctory, then he immediately raised his voice, as if to avoid hearing the sallow-faced boy's name as he pressed on.

"If you're German, shouldn't you go to Durmstrang? I don't mean anything by it, but I heard from my parents that Hogwarts only accepts young wizards born in England."

This question struck a chord with Edmund. His smile became much more genuine, and he almost eagerly replied:

"Alas, it's shameful to admit," Edmund said, his tone anything but ashamed. "It all started with my wretched father. He was a self-proclaimed successful speculator who, by chance, inherited a tremendous political legacy, which in turn brought him countless creditors and enemies."

These words went far beyond the bounds of casual conversation. Even Lily Evans, who was still quite clueless about the wizarding world, was dumbfounded.

Edmund, however, was indifferent. This was his way of getting along with his father: he would seize every opportunity and do everything in his power to humiliate old Mr. Soman with facts.

"But his actual abilities were far from sufficient to handle all of this. He couldn't withstand the real pressure; the poor old man couldn't even protect his wife and children, and in the end, he had no choice but to entrust me to Dumbledore."

James never expected to come out with such a confession. At only 11 years old, he was basically a spoiled child, and at this moment he was caught between "offering words of comfort" and "how can I comfort someone in this situation?"

On the contrary, the inherently rebellious Sirius Black sensed Edmund's excitement. The two exchanged a secret glance, realizing that the other was also a member of the "Fathers' Sorrow League".

"...and you sound pretty smug about it."

At this moment, the boy with the sallow complexion spoke up in a gloomy tone.

"You're actually quite proud of yourself for being able to contact the principal before school even started, aren't you?"

At this point, only Lily Evans was as oblivious as James. She instinctively nudged Snape's boots with her foot and whispered, "Severus!" to signal him to stop.

Edmund couldn't help but laugh. He gave the dirty boy an approving look.

This person's reaction was indeed quite "Slytherin-esque." Stirring things up, getting information out of him, snowballing the conflict. Perfect, everything was in Edmund's familiar rhythm.

"How could that be?" he said slickly, letting out an affected sigh. "My father hated Dumbledore to death—and Dumbledore disliked my father just as much. God knows how many old men would die of anger over this, probably cursing my father's name before they died."

"Ahem." Sirius Black coughed twice, subtly halting the increasingly dangerous conversation. "It sounds like you don't have a college you want to attend?"

Edmund, knowing when to stop, shrugged indifferently and looked again at Miss Evans, who had been sitting by the window eating melons and had completely forgotten her sadness.

"How could that be?"

Edmund chuckled.

"I want to go to Ravenclaw."

"Because Ravenclaw's signature color suits my eyes."