Early in the morning, Carnie woke up at seven. There was only one class in the morning—a double-period combined lesson: Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class, starting at nine.
He didn't wake his still-sleeping roommates. Taking his wand and Transfiguration textbook, he headed downstairs, finding that several students were already in the common room, reading. They were mostly upper-year students he didn't recognize—except for one: Hermione.
Carnie had no intention of greeting her. He was hungry and in a hurry to get breakfast. Besides, she seemed fully immersed in her book, and he didn't want to disturb her.
"Good morning, Carnie," Hermione spotted him anyway. "Are you going to breakfast?"
"Yeah."
"Perfect, let's go together." Hermione closed her book. "Where are the others?"
"They're still sleeping."
As they left the common room, Carnie asked, "Do you know the way to the Great Hall?"
"You don't even know where you're going, and you were planning to go alone?" Hermione shot him a look, her tone carrying a hint of confidence. "I memorized the route last night—follow me."
"You're amazing," Carnie said, realizing that Hermione thrived on praise.
Following behind her, he noticed she was walking briskly ahead, and an awkward silence settled between them.
To break the silence, Carnie asked, "Hermione, didn't you already memorize the entire textbook? Why are you still reading?"
"That was a book borrowed from a senior student in the library. I've already finished my own books. At lunch, I plan to go back and borrow a few more—just in case I don't know enough. Since I wasn't raised in a wizarding family, I still have a lot to catch up on. I can't afford to fall behind them. Do you want to come along?" Hermione started talking at full speed again.
"Now that you mention it, I'd like to check out the library too," Carnie said. There were many things the first-year textbooks didn't cover.
"Just the two of us?" he asked.
"You should ask the other boys too," Hermione said. "Aside from you, I haven't seen anyone else from our dorm yet. This is the first class of the year—I don't want Gryffindor losing points on the very first day…"
Oops. Why did I even ask…? Carnie thought.
After finishing breakfast, they still hadn't seen Harry, Neville, or the others, so Hermione suggested heading to the classroom early.
As expected, Hermione had already memorized the location of the Transfiguration classroom. In fact, she had already figured out where all of their classes were.
Just let her keep talking, Carnie thought. Having a walking encyclopedia around wasn't a bad thing.
When they arrived, the classroom was empty. Hermione chose a seat in the middle-right section. Carnie, however, preferred sitting in the back near the door—just like he had in primary school.
"Why are you sitting in the back?" Hermione frowned.
"Because I'm aiming for the top of Hogwarts!" Carnie blurted.
"…Are you rushing to the owlery to send a letter?" Hermione asked, confused. Hogwarts' highest point was the Astronomy Tower—aside from that, only the owlery was taller. "Besides, if you sit in the back, won't it be harder to hear the professor?"
"…You're right," Carnie admitted, cutting off the conversation immediately.
Since this was his Head of House's class, he figured he should try to make a good impression.
He moved closer to the middle-left side. As for why he didn't sit next to Hermione… he didn't feel like they were close enough for that yet. Besides, as a former shut-in with zero dating experience, he wasn't quite comfortable sitting next to a girl for an entire class.
The classroom was silent. With nothing else to do, Carnie absentmindedly spun his wand.
There were only three ways he could spin it:
Holding it like a cigarette and making the tip circle in the air. Spinning it on his thumb, which was easy. Rotating it between his fingers, which he wasn't skilled enough to do yet.
He stuck with the first method—the easiest one. Dropping and breaking his wand would make him a laughingstock for the next seven years.
"Why don't you come sit here?" Hermione suddenly asked.
"…Really? I can sit next to you?" Carnie was a bit surprised. As a former loner, he wasn't used to being invited.
"Of course. We're going to the library together after class anyway," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Do you always sit alone?"
"Yeah. In primary school, I always sat in the last row because I couldn't relate to the other kids," Carnie admitted. Even though kids in the West matured faster than those in China, they still weren't quite on the level of a full-grown adult.
"I was the same way," Hermione said. "I spent all my time studying, but it made me feel out of place. When I got my Hogwarts letter, I finally realized—this is where I belong. I'm different from them, and here, I can finally find people who share my interests."
"…Mhm." Carnie nodded.
He had a feeling Hermione's isolation was caused by something else entirely—like how ridiculously intelligent she was. The way she spoke, so full of confidence, probably made her classmates feel inadequate.
At eleven years old, who needed to be that competent?
Not that I'll say that out loud… He figured it was best not to ruin their fragile friendship.
"Hermione, you memorized the Transfiguration textbook, right? Have you actually tried transforming anything?" Carnie changed the subject. Shifting to an academic discussion was a great way to redirect Hermione's energy.
"I have," Hermione said. "But I've only managed minor changes. The textbook explains the theory well, but it doesn't really cover the key techniques. I haven't been able to fully transform anything yet. I think… I might be the worst in class."
"You wish," Carnie said seriously. "I'm way worse. I've been practicing two spells for an entire month and still can't cast them consistently. And I can't memorize textbooks at all."
Why only two? Because Protego was a lost cause. He couldn't cast it even once, so he gave up.
"…Thanks. I practiced a few spells at home, and I did manage to cast them," Hermione admitted, though she still seemed nervous. "But I'm worried I'll fall behind. Maybe I should start with something simpler—like the Wand-Lighting Charm."
"Huh? There's a spell for that?" Carnie blinked, then suddenly remembered it.
Lumos—just like Aguamenti, it was a conjuring spell, except one created light and the other created water. He had spent time trying to figure out how water was formed from magic, but he never thought to compare it to light.
"What's the technique?" he asked.
"Just focus on the idea of a light source, say the incantation, and flick your wand slightly—like this: Lumos!"
Hermione's wand tip glowed with a soft white light, though since it was daytime, it didn't seem that bright.
Carnie followed suit. "Lumos! … Lumos! … Lumos!"
It took three tries before his wand tip finally lit up. His was dimmer than Hermione's, probably due to weaker magic output.
He tightened his grip on the wand, thinking back to his struggles with Wingardium Leviosa. Whenever the floating object moved too slowly, he instinctively clenched his wand tighter—somehow, that made it work better.
As he did the same now, the glow on his wand intensified. It grew so bright that it cast a clear shadow on the desk.
"…How did you do that?" Hermione asked, stunned.
"I… have no idea." Carnie was just as confused.