Before Richard could continue, Granger interrupted him.
- Harry Potter?! Don't doubt it, I know everything about you!
Harry was taken aback by such pressure and recoiled, almost falling into the vestibule.
Justin looked at Hermione in bewilderment. He didn't try to make anything up, pushed his suitcase under the sofa, and sat down opposite the girl, closer to the window.
Richard burst into a hearty laugh.
"What did I say that was funny?" the girl looked at Richard with offense.
"Hermione, I didn't know you were a Harry Potter fan. If a fan attacked me on the street, Harry would laugh too."
"I guess," Harry said. "Sorry, Hermione, it's... Could you please stop shouting my name? This place will soon be crawling with wizards wanting to shake my hand and rip off a piece of my clothing."
Harry sat down next to Justin, put his backpack on the couch and continued:
"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I have to disappoint you. Everything you've heard or read about me is a lie and a fabrication. I didn't do anything like that. Just think about it, what is a one-year-old child capable of?"
Justin looked from Granger to Potter in bewilderment.
"Harry, what are you talking about?" he asked. "I understand-Richie, he's a world-famous celebrity. What does this have to do with you?"
"What, you don't know?!" Hermione stared at Justin with wide eyes. Without waiting for an answer, as if she didn't need one, she continued babbling: "Harry Potter defeated the evil wizard-the Dark Lord."
A merry snort came from Hermione's side. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Granger looked at Richard, who was barely holding back his laughter and grunting, and pouted.
"Richie, why are you laughing?" she asked, bewildered.
"Hermione, you're hilarious," Rich replied. "You should definitely try stand-up! Oh... Lord... Where did you even get that idea?"
"I read it in the book 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts,'" the girl replied.
"Let's start with the fact that the last aristocrat with the surname Riddle died in the 1940s, leaving no legitimate heirs. Tom Riddle is an impostor! The crown did not grant this terrorist the status of Lord."
"But it's a magical title..." Granger drawled.
"No, Hermione! It doesn't work that way. A Lordship in Great Britain can be bestowed by the Queen, or it can be inherited. Riddle is, at best, an unacknowledged bastard, so he'll be missing out on the title like a witch on a broomstick. Riddle is an impostor, period."
"What does this Riddle have to do with anything?" Hermione asked, puzzled.
Harry and Justin were silent, but judging by the solidarity and curiosity on their faces, Finch-Fletchley was also interested in knowing the answer to this question.
Richie enlightened his comrades:
- Tom Riddle, known as the self-proclaimed Dark Lord and You-Know-Who, the leader of a terrorist group of British far-right wizards, who died in the autumn of 1981, allegedly from the Unforgivable Curse Avada Kedavra, reflected by Harry Potter's forehead.
"Well, well!" Finch-Fletchley exclaimed. He patted Potter on the shoulder and said, "My condolences, Harry. I wouldn't wish such fame on anyone."
"Richie, how do you know this wizard's name?" Hermione asked in amazement.
- The Queen told.
- Mmm... I see. Since it's the Queen herself... But isn't what was written about Harry true?
"I'm not sure," Richard shrugged. "My Charms teacher said magic can do anything. I've had time to see that it's true. So," he switched to a joking tone, "Harry, if you get hit by Avada again, deflect it with your forehead! I'm sure it's Avada-proof!"
Potter winced and replied:
"Uncle Scott said Avada is fatal 100% of the time. There's no escape from this spell except dodging or taking cover. Guys, let's not talk about that."
"Okay," Hermione backed down. "Boys, tell me why you don't have any luggage?"
"Didn't Richie tell you?" Justin asked, surprised.
"No," Granger shook her head from side to side.
"We bought the bags from a wizarding shop," Finch-Fletchley continued. "They hold far more than they should. And yet, the bags weigh nothing."
- Wow!
A greedy glint lit up Hermione's eyes. It was clear that, like any girl, she dreamed of a truly bottomless bag. Although, it seemed, ordinary women's handbags already possessed that quality. No matter where you looked, you could find a multitude of unexpected things, like a brick, a screwdriver, a can of pepper spray, a huge supply of cosmetics, and other items.
- I haven't seen such a store in Diagon Alley.
Justin began to explain to Hermione where and what she could buy in the wizarding world.
Time flew by as they chatted. The locomotive whistle blew, signaling the train's imminent departure. Almost simultaneously, a red head of hair appeared in the vestibule. A breathless boy in a brand-new, brown, period-style suit peered into the compartment. His face lit up with joyful recognition.
- Lord Rich!
"Hi!" Richard smiled and waved at the redhead. "Ron, come on in."
- Um... Thank you.
"Ron, we agreed, just call me Richie," Richard said amiably. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce this young gentleman-Ron Weasley. His father holds a very important position in the Ministry of Magic and runs my magical experimental enchantment enterprise."
"An enterprise?" Hermione stared at Richard in surprise for the umpteenth time since their meeting. "Richie, didn't you say you'd recently become acquainted with the world of magic?"
"It depends on how you look at it. A year and a half, in my opinion, is quite a long time. Of course, I had to work like a sinner in a frying pan, but I managed to establish a small business with the magicians."
Ron stood on the threshold for a moment, thinking, but, overcoming his shyness, he entered the compartment.
"Ron," Richard continued introducing the boy to the others. "Allow me to introduce the others. This lovely young lady is Hermione Granger. Her parents are, like, healers-they treat the teeth of ordinary people. That gentleman in the corner is Justin Finch-Fletchley, the future Lord and banker. And that modest gentleman in the cap is Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter?!" Weasley exclaimed in amazement.
Ron glanced sideways at Harry, but immediately looked out the window, feigning disinterest. Even though the boy was bursting with the desire to ask the famous wizarding hero a whole host of questions.
"Ron," said Richard, "don't tell me you're a Harry fan too."