Chapter Ninety-One: Going Home

The young wizard Chevin said farewell to Helena and left the dungeon level with his dormitory mates.

Although the first-year students had arrived at the castle by boat, the Hogwarts carriages were not something one had to wait until second year to experience.

At the end of every Christmas holiday and every school year, teams of carriages likewise conveyed students of every year to Hogsmeade Station, and first-years were allowed to ride them as well.

The place where the carriages stood, however, was not the same as the place where the boats had landed.

The Hogwarts carriages waited in an open yard beside the stone steps outside the castle’s northern main entrance. Chevin and the others had to pass through the entrance courtyard to reach the teaching district, then skirt around its cloisters or cross the lawns within them, and after that follow a stretch of paved road before they could finally reach the castle’s main doors.

The journey itself was no shorter than the walk from the Slytherin common room to the greenhouses, let alone the fact that the carriages were parked even farther away.

Abracadus was dissatisfied at once. He complained, “Why can’t we take the boats right now? Then we could go straight down from the entrance courtyard. The Slytherin common room isn’t exactly far from the boathouse.”

Gomez immediately shot back, “Boats aren’t all good, either. For one thing, once we get to the other side we still have to cut through the woods and climb that dirt slope up to the station.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true...” At the rebuttal, Abra’s face stiffened.

Among the four of them, Mowbray was carrying the most.

Ever since the night he had lost all his galleons after curfew restrictions were lifted, he had transformed into a compulsive hoarder. Anything nobody else wanted, he gathered up, planning to take it home and pass it off as a respectable haul, thereby proving that his money had truly been spent on purchases.

By now Mowbray was lugging a mountain of bags and parcels, already breathless with exhaustion. He looked at Chevin with hopeful eyes and asked, “Chevin, is there any room left in your pocket watch?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Chevin answered without even thinking.

It seemed that any storage space, once possessed, would only keep accumulating things until it could hold no more, and only then would one remember to tidy it. Chevin’s pocket watch had already filled up several times over.

Because of this term’s experiences, he felt as though mishaps might strike at any moment, so whatever supplies he could, he liked to stockpile inside it for emergencies.

Now that he had packed the luggage he meant to take home as well, there was naturally little space left in the pocket watch.

Hearing Chevin’s refusal, Mowbray looked as though he had been struck by despair. He even seemed ready to find a rubbish bin and throw away his bundles on the spot.

“I say, aren’t we wizards?” Chevin asked him, puzzled. “Why don’t you try thinking of another way?”

“Right!” Mowbray’s spirits lifted instantly. Struggling, he freed one hand and drew his wand from his pocket.

“Wingardium Leviosa.” He cast a levitation charm on his luggage, and the various parcels rose into the air.

Seeing that his levitation charm was not half bad, Chevin left him to it and continued walking while thinking over the designs for his remaining alchemical products.

Yet he had only gone a few steps when he heard a crash!

Chevin looked up in astonishment to find all of Mowbray’s luggage crashing to the ground, scattered in utter disarray.

“What happened just now?” Abra asked, looking equally confused.

“I can’t do this anymore!” Mowbray gave up entirely and sat down on the ground, grumbling, “Why is it more tiring to hold my luggage up with a levitation charm than to carry it myself?”

Chevin’s mouth twitched. He felt that he had indeed overestimated the mental stamina of first-year wizards.

With Mowbray’s luggage weighing what it did, the effort required to control it with levitation really was no less than carrying it directly—only one taxed the body, while the other taxed the mind.

There was no helping it. Since Chevin was the only one there with empty hands, he had no choice but to take charge himself. He cast spells to tidy Mowbray’s luggage and then placed a feather-light charm on the bundles to lessen the burden.

“Here, try again now,” Chevin said.

Half-convinced, Mowbray hoisted his parcels once more, and his face immediately lit up. “That’s much better! What spell is this?”

“The feather-light charm,” Chevin said. “So I told you to study properly, but you wouldn’t listen. Only when you need it do you start regretting it!”

“We’re not regretting anything,” Mowbray said, blinking in confusion. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

Chevin: “...”

...

After easing Mowbray’s load, the three of them soon reached the castle’s main entrance.

Hogwarts Castle’s main gate was a splendid iron gate. On either side stood many stone pillars, each topped with a statue of a winged boar.

A sign bearing the weight of long years was fixed beside the gate. On it was written Hogwarts’ motto: Never tickle a sleeping dragon!

This was the first time Chevin and the others had come outside Hogwarts’ main entrance, for the gate was normally closed. Only when distinguished guests came to visit, or when the holidays began or ended, would it be thrown open for visitors, students, and professors arriving at or departing from the school.

Once outside the gate, they could see that on the open ground not far away, more than a hundred carriages were parked in neat rows. Each white, tall horse stood before its own carriage and gave a low whinny, a scene of considerable splendor.

“Wow!” Abra exclaimed at the horses before him.

“Yes, it really is impressive.” Chevin nodded in agreement, endorsing Abra’s admiration.

“Wow! They must be Hogwarts’ laziest employees, only having to work four times a year!” Abra exclaimed.

“...So that’s what you wanted to marvel at?” Chevin’s mouth twitched.

Because they were a little farther away, and because Mowbray’s luggage had delayed them somewhat, the Slytherin students arrived rather late. By then, the carriages nearest the gate were basically all taken.

Chevin and the others had no choice but to keep walking forward, searching for an empty carriage.

At last, near the back of the line, they found one that was unoccupied.

Eagerly stepping inside, they all promptly frowned.

The carriage must have been old. It was dark within, with a faint smell of mildew and straw.

But no matter how dirty the carriage was, they still had to ride it. They had to go home, after all.

So someone like Abra, who was a little fastidious, could only spread a sheet of parchment over the seat and sit up straight and rigid the whole way through, afraid that at any moment his clothes might brush against some other part of the carriage.

Fortunately, the wait was not long, and soon all the students had boarded.

More than a hundred carriages formed a line and rattled, swaying, along the path to Hogsmeade Station.

It was a long downhill drive, and the strength of the wind around them suggested that the carriages were moving quickly.

At last they came to a stop beside the stone steps leading to the station entrance.

And there, on the tracks, a gleaming crimson steam train already waited, puffing clouds of thick steam from time to time.

...

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