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HRA# Chapter 17: The Weasley Twins and the Entertaining Hermione (2)
🕑 Added 2025-01-16 11:49:37 +0000 UTCAfter putting away his luggage, Harry pulled out a book, intending to pass the dull hours ahead. But for now, he wasn’t reading; instead, his gaze was fixed on the train window. He watched parents on the platform bidding their children farewell, their expressions ranging from teary to cheerful.
Among the crowd, Harry noticed the platinum-haired boy he'd met at Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions—the one who had tried persistently to talk to him but was thoroughly ignored. The boy’s father was there too, looking stern, while his mother lavished the boy with hugs and kisses, leaving his face shiny with affection.
Harry’s attention then shifted to a cluster of red-haired people. Among them were the Weasley twins, unmistakable with their identical grins, presumably surrounded by their family.
Quite lively, Harry thought, noting the cheerful energy they radiated.
As he adjusted to the invisible tension of being surrounded by so many people, a sudden knock at the compartment door drew his attention.
“Come in,” Harry called, turning his head. At the door stood a girl with bushy brown hair, struggling to drag her luggage.
“Is there an empty seat here?” she asked, slightly breathless.
“Of course,” Harry replied, adhering to the Tauren principle of helpfulness. He stood up and helped her lift her luggage onto the rack with ease.
“You’re reading a book? What’s it about?” she asked, sitting down. Her words tumbled out in a rapid stream, flowing like a torrent. “I love reading too! I’ve read so many books, but I’m not sure how much they’ll help at Hogwarts… blah blah blah, abracadabra, bibbidi-bobbidi-boo…”
Harry blinked. To him, the latter part of her chatter dissolved into buzzing noises—words that barely registered in his mind.
Sure, he could hear her, and on some level, he understood each sentence. But the sheer speed and volume of her words overwhelmed him, and his brain automatically tuned her out.
Instinct is fascinating, isn’t it?
Harry wasn’t particularly fond of people like this. Back in Azeroth, he’d often fallen victim to goblins' rapid-fire sales pitches, which inevitably ended with him purchasing items he didn’t need—like soap that created massive bubbles but couldn’t clean clothes properly.
Damn goblins. Tauren don’t like them.
“Hey! Hey! Are you listening?”
Harry snapped back to reality to find the girl glaring at him, her face red and one hand waving furiously in front of his eyes.
“Sorry, you were talking too fast and too much. I didn’t catch it,” Harry admitted honestly. As a Tauren, honesty was a principle he upheld. He never lied—not even white lies.
When lying was unavoidable, Harry chose silence.
That was exactly how he’d handled Dumbledore earlier. Harry didn’t lie; he simply said nothing or shared only what could be said.
The girl’s glare intensified, her face nearly ablaze.
“I! Was! Saying!” she ground out, spitting each word through gritted teeth. “What are you reading? And why do you have horns? I’ve read The Comprehensive Guide to Magical Creatures, and there’s no mention of people with horns! You look like a wizard, so why—”
“Stop!” Harry raised a hand. “That’s enough. Generally, if a sentence exceeds three parts, I can’t follow the rest.”
The girl’s anger flared higher.
Harry calmly raised his book as if it were a shield. From behind it, he said, “As you can see, I’m a Tauren. You’re not prejudiced against other races, are you?”
“I—of course not!” she sputtered, trying to contain her frustration. Her eyes flickered toward the book’s title: Unveiling the Fog of the Future. “But are you really a Tauren? There’s no mention of your kind in any books.”
“Just because you haven’t seen it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” Harry said firmly.
“Fine, fine. I’m sorry,” she mumbled, though her curiosity clearly remained. “I’ve seen that book in a shop before. It’s supposed to be a Divination textbook at Hogwarts, but the clerk said it was for third years, and first years wouldn’t need it. Even when I tried to read it, I couldn’t make sense of it. Can you really understand it?”
“You’re going past three lines again.”
“Mind your own business!”
Harry’s well-meaning reminder earned him a sharp rebuke. He sighed, oddly entertained by her energy.
“Honestly, I just wanted to get a sense of what Hogwarts’ Divination class is like,” Harry explained, deciding to steer the conversation away from her outburst.
“So, you really can understand it?” she asked, her skepticism clear as her brow furrowed.
“This book has its useful parts,” Harry admitted, closing it with a sigh. “But most of it... falls somewhere between useful and completely useless. I didn’t expect wizarding Divination to be this bad. How can they use something like this to teach students?”
“...It sounds like you already know Divination,” she muttered, unable to resist a jab. “That is the professor’s chosen textbook, after all.”
“Of course,” Harry replied, raising an eyebrow. “Is there a problem? If Divination doesn’t allow you to actually foresee the future and make decisions based on it, then it’s just a scam. In the Horde, fake prophets like that would get speared.”
“From what I’ve read so far, most of it is about teaching you how to fool yourself—how to take real-world facts, find vaguely similar symbols or situations, and spin a narrative. That’s just wrong.”
