Naturally, there couldn't be wild toads on the train.
"Some careless student probably lost it," Fred said nonchalantly. "Just leave it in the corridor. Its owner will surely find it."
The suggestion was casual, clearly showing he didn't care much about the toad's fate.
However, there really was no need to worry. This was the Hogwarts Express; unless the toad decided to jump out of the window for no reason, there was no danger to its life at all.
Lee Jordan immediately bent down and picked up the toad, preparing to deal with it.
Just then, the sliding door of the compartment was suddenly pulled open.
A round-faced boy poked his head in timidly.
His eyes and the tip of his nose were red, and his face was full of anxiety, as if he had just had a good cry.
"E-excuse me," he said hesitantly. "Have you seen a toad? His name is Trevor, and I've lost him again…"
The boy blurted out his purpose for coming.
Lee Jordan's hand froze in midair. At that moment, he happened to be holding the toad upside down by one leg.
Neville's gaze immediately locked onto his pet.
"Trevor!" he exclaimed, his eyes snapping to Lee Jordan.
When he saw Lee Jordan roughly dangling Trevor—who looked weak and listless—Neville's tears welled up again instantly.
"You… what did you do!?" Neville's voice trembled with a sob, carrying a rare hint of anger.
But he didn't dare step forward. The person in front of him was an upperclassman, much taller than himself.
Lee Jordan's braided hair and slightly imposing build added an invisible sense of pressure in the eyes of the timid Neville. For a moment, he could only stand there, tears swirling in his eyes.
The scene spoke for itself.
It looked exactly like a case of school bullying.
Lee Jordan was momentarily speechless. How had he inexplicably become the villain bullying the weak?
"Hey, don't cry!" Lee Jordan said, flustered, quickly stuffing Trevor into Neville's arms. "I really didn't do anything to him! He just… er… maybe he's motion sick?"
He racked his brain for an excuse—even though the toad's listless appearance didn't make it very convincing.
Fred, watching from the side, wanted to laugh but felt it would be too unkind, so he could only purse his lips tightly while his shoulders shook.
George secretly nudged him with his elbow, signaling him to restrain himself.
"You really are a bad guy, Lee," Morris whistled, acting as if it were none of his business.
"Shut up, Morris. Who do you think caused this?" Lee Jordan snapped irritably. Then he turned back to the still-sobbing Neville, softening his tone as much as possible. "Don't cry, kid. Your toad is really fine. I promise."
Neville raised his teary eyes, looked at the helpless and slightly aggrieved Lee Jordan, then at Trevor in his hands, and slowly nodded.
"Neville, have you found your toad?"
Another voice sounded from the doorway.
A girl with thick, bushy brown hair appeared there.
Her bright eyes swept across the compartment, instantly piecing together the situation—Neville with red-rimmed eyes clutching his toad, an embarrassed Lee Jordan, the red-haired twins barely holding back laughter, and Morris holding a black cat with an indifferent expression.
Her brows furrowed immediately.
"Are you all bullying a first-year student!?" she demanded.
Lee Jordan raised a hand to his forehead.
Great. Now he had to waste even more breath explaining.
He really didn't want strange rumors spreading among the new students. Bullying the weak? That was not a reputation he needed.
After two and a half minutes of somewhat chaotic explanation—mostly because Fred and George kept deliberately stirring things up—the misunderstanding was finally cleared.
Although Hermione still felt these people were a bit unreliable, especially Lee Jordan, who had been dangling the toad, she at least believed they hadn't bullied Neville on purpose.
"Alright," she said, her tone softening with a hint of apology. "It seems I misunderstood. I'm sorry for accusing you without knowing the situation."
Neville also timidly poked his head out from behind Hermione and said quietly, "Th-thank you for helping me find Trevor."
"No problem," Lee Jordan said, waving his hand and trying to display some upperclassman grace.
A few drops of cold sweat still lingered on his forehead.
"I'm Hermione Granger," the brown-haired girl formally introduced herself. Then she stepped aside, revealing the round-faced boy behind her. "This is Neville Longbottom. We're both first-year students."
"Fred Weasley."
"George Weasley."
"Lee Jordan. We're all third-years, and this is—"
"Morris Black," Morris said simply. "Like you, I'm a first-year."
A first-year staying with a group of third-years was clearly an unusual combination.
Did they know each other from before?
A flicker of surprise crossed Hermione's eyes as she sized Morris up.
"Hey!" she suddenly exclaimed. "I recognize you!"
Morris paused, startled. "Hmm? Have we met?"
He looked closely at Hermione, certain he had no memory of this bushy-haired girl with bright eyes.
Probably not—
"At the pet shop in Diagon Alley," Hermione said huffily. "You ignored me then. That was very rude."
Only then did Morris realize her surname was Granger. She must be related to the Grangers from that day.
"Oh, so it was you," he said, putting on an expression of sudden realization.
To be honest, he hadn't remembered the face of the person who spoke to him at all.
No one goes out of their way to remember a stranger's appearance—especially not an unremarkable child.
Hermione gave a soft snort.
She had already realized Morris didn't remember her and was only responding that way to spare her embarrassment.
What an annoying guy.
Just then, a crisp ringing bell echoed through the corridor, followed by a warm female voice.
"Anything from the trolley, dears? Chocolate Frogs! Pumpkin Pasties! Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans!"
The Trolley Witch, pushing her snack cart, had stopped outside their compartment, blocked by Hermione and Neville standing in the corridor.
Hermione noticed and said to Neville, "Let's go, Neville, since your pet toad has been found."
"Oh—wait."
Neville scratched his head sheepishly, bought a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and shared them with everyone present.
He seemed eager to express his gratitude, even though the experience earlier hadn't been very pleasant.
For some reason, however, every bean Morris picked tasted like booger or mud.
In the end, he reached a silent conclusion:
He hated Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
If you want, I can also:
tighten dialogue further for pacing,
adjust narration to better match British English style,
or lightly localize it to sound closer to canon HP prose.
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