The atmosphere in the compartment became a bit subtle following that little interlude.
To pass the time during the journey, Tamara had already taken out a textbook to flip through.
Although Harry and Ron were still eating snacks, their eyes would occasionally drift toward the girl quietly reading in the corner.
In their eyes, Tamara was no longer just a simple, pretty, and fragile girl; the way she had just scolded Malfoy was incredibly cool.
Seeing that the atmosphere in the compartment was a bit quiet, Ron grabbed the wand beside him and asked Harry, "I learned a spell from my brother that can turn this rat yellow!"
"Really?" Harry was also seeing a proper spell for the first time—the one Hagrid used to intimidate his cousin didn't count.
"Of course!" Ron spoke with great confidence, waving his wand and chanting, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"
However, nothing changed with the fat rat in his hand.
Tamara pinched the bridge of her nose; if this performance counted as being a Wizard, she sincerely hoped Ron would stop insulting magic.
Just as Harry was about to say something, the compartment door was pulled open for the third time.
This time, there was no polite knock, nor any arrogant provocation, but a bustling figure who burst straight in.
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."
Standing at the door was a young girl with thick, bushy brown hair and prominent front teeth.
She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes, and her tone was hurried, carrying a commanding air as if she were a prefect responsible for checking the cleanliness of the carriages.
Tamara frowned slightly.
Another one.
Was this train some kind of torture device specifically designed to torment her? Why did someone have to interrupt her thoughts every ten minutes?
"Haven't seen it," Ron said somewhat impatiently, feeling frustrated because he had just performed a terrible spell.
The girl didn't leave immediately; her gaze fell upon the wand Ron was holding.
"Oh, are you doing magic?"
She walked in and sat directly in the empty seat next to Harry, making herself completely at home.
"Let's see it then."
Ron felt a bit embarrassed, but he still cleared his throat, waved the old wand that looked like it was about to break, and recited loudly:
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"
He flicked his wand, but other than the rat letting out a startled squeak, nothing happened.
Scabbers remained gray and continued to sleep.
"Are you sure that spell is actually real?"
The girl pointed out the fact bluntly, "It doesn't seem very good, does it?"
Ron's ears turned red, and he muttered that it might be a fake spell George had taught him.
"I've tried a few simple spells at home just for practice, and they've all worked for me."
The girl tilted her chin up and began to rattle off words like she was reciting a book.
"Nobody in my family knows magic, so I was ever so surprised when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, because, I mean, it's the very best school of magic I've heard of."
"I've learned all our set books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough..."
A mudblood.
Tamara mentally labeled the girl.
What she looked down on most were Muggles or this kind of mudblood.
Of course—she herself was technically of impure blood, but given that Lord Voldemort had already killed her biological father of impure blood, no one could prove she was a half-blood.
Furthermore, magic was a talent, an instinct, a power flowing in the blood, not some clauses learned by rote.
"I'm Hermione Granger, and who are you, by the way?" Hermione finally took a breath and asked at a very fast pace.
Harry and Ron gave their names.
When she heard Harry's name, Hermione began another round of bombardment, listing passages she had read about Harry in "A History of Modern Magic" and "The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."
Finally, her gaze landed on Tamara.
"And you?" Hermione looked at this girl who hadn't spoken, but whose aura was clearly out of place compared to the others.
"You look... very special. I mean, your robes fit very well; were they custom-made too?"
"Tamara Riddle," Tamara replied briefly.
"Riddle?" Hermione frowned, seemingly searching her mental library for the surname. "I don't think I've seen that name in 'Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century'."
"Because I haven't started writing my history yet," Tamara said flatly.
Hermione was stunned for a moment, apparently not expecting such an answer.
But soon, her attention was drawn to the book beside Tamara.
"You like reading too? Is that 'Intermediate Transfiguration'? That's a third-year textbook!" Hermione cried in surprise.
"I was just practicing the Levitation Charm; although the book says the movement is a'swish and flick', I always find it hard to control the force."
As Hermione spoke, she pulled her wand from her pocket: "Look, I'll show you."
She pointed at a Chocolate Frog wrapper on the table.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Hermione flicked her wand forcefully; the wrapper trembled as if blown by the wind, floated up a few centimeters in a wobbly fashion, and then fell back down.
"See! Although it's not perfect yet, I can already make it move!" Hermione raised her head somewhat proudly, expecting praise.
Ron and Harry did indeed show surprised expressions; after all, they hadn't even warmed up their wands yet.
But at that moment, a soft chuckle came from the window.
It was a laugh tinged with a hint of contempt, yet it was extremely pleasant to the ear.
"You call that 'floating'?"
Tamara put down her book, her dark eyes carrying a condescending scrutiny.
[Ding! Teaching opportunity detected.]
[Triggered Daily Task: Fond of Teaching.]
[Task Description: Since you cannot stand this clumsy novice, why not show her what real magic looks like?]
[Task Reward: Wisdom +5.]
Tamara frowned; she wasn't kind enough to guide a mudblood.
[host, you don't really plan on relying on just two spells to conquer the world, do you?]
Tamara's expression stiffened for a split second; one day, she would drag this system out and use Crucio on it day and night.
Hearing Tamara's words, Hermione's face suddenly flushed red: "This is already very difficult! The book says..."
"The book says, the book says," Tamara took a deep breath and interrupted her, her tone cold.
"If you only know how to chant from a book, you will never become a true Witch, Miss Granger."
"Your pronunciation is too heavy; why did you drag out that 'gar' syllable so long? And your wrist."
Tamara stood up and walked over to Hermione.
She reached out a long, fair finger and pressed it lightly against Hermione's wrist as she held the wand.