August passed quickly.
On September 1st, Ollivander, early in the morning, sent Xilun to an alley outside King's Cross Station via the Knight Bus.
"It's outrageous! It's your first day of school, and Ga Li An and Lila haven't even sent a letter!"
This was the third time Ollivander had complained about his son and daughter-in-law today, and it was clear he was very unhappy.
However, Xilun didn't mind.
"Those botanists are all like that; it's common for them to wait several months just for a flower to bloom. Haven't you gotten used to it yet?"
"I just feel it's unfair to you," Ollivander sighed. "Today is a big day, after all."
"You're overthinking it," Xilun said; he truly didn't care.
"It's great that you can say that."
Just as Xilun was thinking about how to comfort his grandfather, who was feeling indignant on his behalf, someone suddenly clapped him hard on the shoulder.
"In that case, I'll see you off here." To Xilun's disbelief, Ollivander pulled out his wand.
"Last night, Mr. Drew wrote to me saying he found a pine forest in Dorset where Bowtruckles live, all with trees over three hundred years old. I need to go see it quickly."
"Well then, good luck to you!"
Without giving Xilun a chance to speak, Ollivander instantly disappeared as soon as he finished his sentence.
"Meow~ Awoo~"
Tom, seeing a Wizard use Apparition for the first time, was startled by the sudden change. His back arched high, and all his fur stood on end.
By the way, Tom was the name Xilun gave to the tabby cat; it had no special meaning. He just felt in his heart that foreign cats should be named Tom.
"It's okay, relax," Xilun, having recovered, softly soothed his pet. "No wandmaker can resist the temptation of a Bowtruckle, especially a newly discovered Bowtruckle colony. This is a normal reaction from him."
To be precise, Ollivander wasn't interested in the Bowtruckles, but rather the trees they inhabited.
Not just any piece of wood could be made into a wand; magic wasn't that casual, and there were many requirements.
The most important and unignorable point was the Bowtruckle's approval.
Only if a Bowtruckle nested on it could a branch be taken to make a wand; otherwise, it was scrap, useless no matter how old it was... Oh, except for dragon blood wood; that stuff was 100% guaranteed to get a Bowtruckle's approval, it's just that they didn't dare to live there.
Currently, such high-quality wand trees were rare in Britain, and Ollivander could only find materials abroad.
This was also the reason he was in such a hurry to leave.
Xilun looked around; fortunately, the alley they were in was quite secluded, and there were no Muggle around.
Seemingly understanding Xilun's words, Tom gradually calmed down and curled back up on the suitcase.
...
Xilun entered King's Cross Station, found a trolley, and headed towards Platform 9 3/4.
Although it was his first time, Xilun was naturally not unfamiliar with a famous place like Platform 9 3/4.
It only took him ten minutes to find his destination... a small area between Platform 9 and Platform 10 that had been charmed with a Muggle-Repelling Charm.
When he arrived, a round-faced boy was cautiously approaching one of the dividing walls, walking very slowly, as if afraid of hitting his head.
However, this action annoyed an oddly dressed old woman nearby.
"Don't act like a coward, Neville, run through, quickly!" Mrs. Longbottom snapped. The boy was startled, charged towards the dividing wall, and then disappeared.
No, rather than running in, Xilun felt he looked more like he lost his balance after being startled and fell through with his trolley.
But Mrs. Longbottom didn't seem to notice; she seemed very satisfied with the boy's decisiveness and nodded with relief.
At the same time, she noticed Xilun standing nearby.
"You're also taking the train to Hogwarts, right?"
Xilun nodded, finding her a bit confused.
Coming to King's Cross Station at this time, if not for Hogwarts, was it for tourism?
"What year?"
"First year," Xilun answered truthfully.
"Neville is also a first-year," Mrs. Longbottom looked at Xilun again, then noticed he was alone.
"Alone, and from a Muggle family that can't accept magic? Ha, this happens every year."
"All right, child, if you're looking for the platform..." She extended her hand and pointed to the dividing wall in front of them, "Just run through, and you'll be there. Close your eyes if you're scared."
She had clearly misunderstood something.
Xilun opened his mouth, intending to explain, but after a moment of hesitation, he changed his words:
"Ah, thank you."
It wasn't a big deal anyway. Xilun feigned sudden realization, pushed his trolley, and charged towards the dividing wall.
As he passed through the platform.
"I hope both you and Neville get sorted into Gryffindor; it's the best house."
After that, the scene before him instantly changed.
Xilun didn't care about any of this; his mind was still replaying the words he had just heard.
Sorted into Gryffindor...
That's awful!
Xilun felt terrible... He was a wandmaker! Whether carving runes on the wand or rolling materials into the wand core, these were all delicate handcrafts.
When doing this work, patience, meticulousness, and calmness were indispensable. Sometimes, to roll a perfect wand core, sitting in the room all day was common.
But what kind of place was Gryffindor? Body faster than brain, pulling out wands to fight after three disagreements. While not everyone was like that, calling it a barbarian's stronghold was absolutely fine.
Putting him with Gryffindor?
You can't insult people like that, it's really too awful!
Xilun turned to look at the dividing wall, wanting to go back and persuade the other party to change their blessing... He really couldn't go to Gryffindor, or he would definitely be ridiculed by his peers.
However, as soon as this thought surfaced, someone else came in from behind, and Xilun had to continue moving forward to make enough room for the newcomer.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't bump into you, did I?" The trolley brushed past Xilun's arm.
"Ah, no," Xilun slightly turned aside, then heard the other person continue,
"You're a first-year, right? As a Prefect, I must remind you not to loiter at the platform entrance; it will obstruct others."
"I know," Xilun looked at the red-haired boy with horn-rimmed glasses in front of him, and his fidgeting with the Prefect badge on his chest three times in half a minute.
Percy Weasley, an acquaintance, but he didn't seem to recognize him.
Xilun didn't speak.
He was already annoyed by being insulted for no reason, and then he met someone who constantly said "I'm a Prefect," which made him even more annoyed.
Arguing was definitely not an option; he wasn't that kind of rude person.
"Is 'Prefect' another name for 'Big-headed Boy'? Ha, good for you if you like it." Xilun stared at his badge, raised an eyebrow, gave him a look as if he were seeing a Troll, and turned to leave, almost covering his nose.
He was just an incoming first-year who didn't even know what a Prefect was; there was no problem at all!
Moreover, his badge really did say "Big-headed Boy."
Percy's face instantly turned red, and what was worse, this process was seen by his two younger brothers, Fred and George, who were at the platform entrance, laughing their heads off.
"You two must have tampered with my Prefect badge!"
"Nonsense!"
"We didn't!"
"I'm telling Mum!"
The platform entrance instantly became lively, but none of this concerned Xilun; by then, he had already carried his luggage onto the train.
