"Phew, just in time," Evans breathed, letting out a long sigh as he stood by the Black Lake, holding two very different creatures in his arms.
If he'd remembered an hour later, he would have missed not only the arrival of the first years but likely the Sorting Ceremony itself. It was far too late to help with any of the final arrangements now, so rather than heading straight for the Great Hall, he'd brought Nana and Alice to the quiet shores near the castle's back entrance.
The Diricawl, her blue-and-yellow head swiveling left and right, confirmed the coast was clear and instantly vanished from Evans's hand, reappearing by the water's edge with a soft pop. She stretched her long neck, peering into the depths, seemingly intent on catching a few small fish for a snack.
The Niffler, however, was unusually still. Nana lounged lazily in Evans's arms like a well-fed, furry slug.
Stroking Nana's head, Evans glanced towards the distant Hogsmeade station. He'd ridden in the horseless carriages too many times to count; the novelty had long since worn off. He'd even visited and fed the Thestrals just that morning. What he truly wanted to witness was the one Hogwarts tradition he had missed: the first-year boat journey across the Black Lake.
Circumstances had forced him to miss it during his own first year, and the regret had always lingered. No matter how many times he'd rowed across the lake as a student, he'd never managed to recapture that lost moment of magic. Now, as a professor, he could finally observe the entire procession from a perfect vantage point. It was a small but deeply satisfying consolation.
Hagrid was already waiting on the far side of the lake, and he gave Evans a friendly wave. Evans returned the gesture, then playfully poked the Niffler in his arms, his gaze fixed on the vast, dark water. The Hogwarts Express was still about ten minutes out. He couldn't let that time go to waste.
Holding the Niffler with one arm, Evans reached into his magically expanded pocket with the other. After a moment of fumbling, he pulled out a reddish-brown sphere and tossed it into the lake.
He paused, a puzzled expression crossing his face. Why does this little one feel so heavy? Has she gotten fatter again? Feeling the unexpected weight, he looked down at Nana, who was still nestled in his arm. For a fleeting second, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of guilt in her beady black eyes.
Was it just his imagination?
As he pondered, the once-calm surface of the Black Lake began to ripple where the sphere had landed. The ripples didn't dissipate; instead, they grew stronger, more insistent. A few seconds later, an impossibly massive tentacle erupted from the depths. It explored the air for a moment before coming to rest gently on Evans's shoulder.
"Long time no see, big guy," Evans said with a smile, scratching the immense appendage as he looked towards the center of the disturbance. The tentacle was not the true cause of the waves; it was merely a part of it. A vast, dark shadow was rising from below, displacing the water in ever-widening circles that crashed against the shore.
Then, with a final, tremendous surge, the creature broke the surface, stirring a giant wave and revealing its true form. It was a colossal squid, its partially exposed head easily the size of a cruise ship. Had its entire body emerged, it would have dwarfed the largest Muggle vessel of the era.
Such a creature had long since transcended the normal bounds of life, yet it had never displayed any obvious magical abilities. As a result, no one, from the founding of Hogwarts to the present day, knew whether it was a magical beast or simply a preternaturally long-lived animal. But one thing was certain: a creature that had dwelled in a school for wizards for so long possessed a knowledge far beyond that of any ordinary animal.
The first tentacle was still interacting with Evans when two more rose from the water. One reached cautiously towards Alice the Diricawl, its owner clearly aware of the bird's skittish nature. It even offered two small, wriggling fish on its suckers as a gift for its long-unseen friend.
The other tentacle, however, was not nearly so gentle.
It coiled directly around the lazy Niffler. Perhaps sensing danger, Nana began to struggle, trying to squirm out of Evans's embrace. But it was too late. The tentacle scooped her up and lifted her into the air. Suspended and helpless, Nana frantically slapped at the appendage with her tiny paws, her movements resembling those of a scandalized maiden.
Evans watched the scene with an amused smile. Nana and the giant squid seemed to have a good relationship, so why was she so resistant? He recalled she'd always enjoyed being playfully tossed about before.
As if sensing her frantic resistance, the giant squid seemed to grow displeased. It began to swing the little creature more violently through the air. With each powerful shake, Nana grew more desperate, her paws pressed firmly against the pocket on her belly. Her face was a mask of determination, but her belief in her own strength was no match for the disparity in size.
Clang.
During a lull in the shaking, a delicate-looking badge slipped from her pocket. It hit the ground with a soft chime, reflecting the last of the evening light.
The smile on Evans's face slowly faded.
As the tentacle continued its relentless swinging, more and more items began to fall from the Niffler's pouch, quickly piling into a small, glittering mountain on the shore. Thanks to Evans's unique gift, the magical creatures who befriended him received a slight boost to their own abilities. For Nana, this meant her pouch could hold far more than it should.
Silently, Evans stared at the small mountain of trinkets, then at the Niffler still being swung wildly by the tentacle. His expression slowly hardened, growing dangerously cold.
"So you're just going to ignore my words, are you?"
Aboard the Hogwarts Express
The steam train sped along its tracks, yet the carriage remained perfectly still. Harry Potter, however, was not in a good mood. It had nothing to do with the month spent back at the Dursleys'; after seeing Dudley with a pig's tail and his aunt and uncle with other curious afflictions, he found he could no longer take them seriously. Their abuse had lost its sting.
No, his current annoyance had a new source, and its name was Draco Malfoy. He was sure he would remember that name, though not with any fondness. Staring at the arrogant, blond-haired boy standing in his compartment, Harry felt a familiar irritation rising. He'd never met a boy so full of himself; not even the son of the politician who had once visited Privet Drive had been so haughty.
"...Potter, you don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort, do you?" Malfoy drawled. "I can help you there."
"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," Harry replied, his tone icy. He disliked people like this, especially after Malfoy had just insulted his new friend.
Choked by the retort, a faint blush crept up Malfoy's pale face. But he didn't lash out as Harry expected. He merely gave him a long, deep look.
If it weren't for what had happened a month ago, he likely would have fired back with a few sarcastic remarks to save face and uphold his pure-blood honor. But he still vividly remembered that day in Madam Malkin's. He had been chatting with the Boy Who Lived when his father had suddenly stormed into the shop, his face grim. He had sternly ordered Draco to be silent before dragging him straight home.
Later, when he tried to ask what had happened, his father refused to explain, only muttering strange words under his breath with a livid expression. Words like "monster," "judgment," and "pure-blood disgrace." It was as if Draco had committed some unforgivable taboo.
But he couldn't recall saying anything particularly offensive. He'd only found the rough-looking, giant-like fellow standing with Evans a bit amusing. Was his father afraid of the gamekeeper named Hagrid? Or was it the ordinary-looking man beside him, the one carrying the suitcase?
Draco was deeply confused, but he knew his father would not have acted that way without a powerful reason. It was a pity. It seemed he wouldn't be befriending the famous Harry Potter after all. And since they weren't to be friends, they could only be rivals.
"Hmph."
With that, Draco haughtily lifted his chin and swept from the compartment, his two hulking cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, trailing behind him.
"Is that guy mental?" Ron asked, looking bewildered at the empty doorway. "I thought we were going to have a row! Is that all?" He even threw a few practice punches into the air, showing he'd been ready.
"I don't know," Harry admitted, just as confused. Based on their brief conversation, Malfoy hadn't seemed like the type to back down so easily, especially with his two goons for backup.
Before they could puzzle it out, the compartment door slid open again. A girl with thick, bushy brown hair stood there, looking even more commanding than Malfoy had. She glanced sideways at the two boys, who were still seated.
"You'd better change into your robes," she announced. "I've just been up to the driver, and he says we're nearly there."
(End of Chapter)
***
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