"I'm a professional shaman and seer—would I lie to you?"

A professional seer must dare to make judgments.

"Hah," the young girl scoffed dismissively. "Then why aren't you a professor? If the things in the books aren't correct, why are they recognized by so many in the magical world and even used as school textbooks?"

"That's because the most important aspect of divination is talent, and the vast majority of people simply don't possess that talent—yet they desperately long to foresee the future." Even faced with such skepticism, Harry remained calm and explained evenly, "So they try their best to imitate it."

"To put it bluntly, and perhaps harshly, magic is a path that requires innate talent to truly excel. And in the field of divination, talent is even more crucial than effort—this is not a discipline where experience or rote memorization will lead to success."

"People pursue prophecy and divination to avoid bad things happening to them," Harry continued, "and if someone claiming to be a seer cannot help with that, then they’re a fraud. Just remember that."

"…Hah, who knows if you're telling the truth or not," the girl retorted. While her reasoning was starting to align with Harry's explanation, her tone remained unconvinced. "If Hogwarts offers it as a class, there must be a good reason."

"Want to give it a try?" Harry asked abruptly.

"A try at what?" The girl blinked in confusion, caught off guard.

Knock, knock, knock. Someone rapped on the compartment door.

"Uh, I heard there’s an empty seat here, so… uh, is there still space?" A red-haired boy stood nervously at the door, carrying his luggage.

Something about the atmosphere in the compartment made him instinctively uneasy. Swallowing hard, the boy regretted listening to his unreliable twin brothers' advice.

"Of course," Harry nodded. "There’s room. Come in—by the way, Fred and George, what are they to you?"

Through the glass window earlier, Harry had noticed this boy among a group of red-haired people. As soon as he entered, the boy's eyes were fixed on Harry's two horns but he refrained from asking anything.

"Uh, they’re my brothers," the red-haired boy said, setting down his luggage and taking a seat. "Do you know them well?"

"Just met them. They helped me get onto the platform; otherwise, I’d probably still be outside."

"Oh, well, for once, they’ve done something good. That’s rare," the boy muttered before extending his hand. "I’m Ron Weasley. And you are?"

As Ron reached out, Harry belatedly realized he had spent so long teasing the girl that he still didn’t know her name.

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"Harry Potter."

"Hermione Granger."

A moment of silence filled the compartment.

Then, simultaneously, two voices rang out in shock.

"Harry Potter?!!!"

"Fred and George never mentioned this!"

Harry sighed. He knew this would happen.

"Are you really Harry Potter?!" Ron's face had turned nearly as red as his hair. He stared at Harry, or more specifically, at the scar on his forehead with wide eyes. "That—that—"

"Yes, calm down, will you?" Harry brushed his bangs aside, letting them see the scar clearly. "No need to get so worked up. I’m not that different from you."

"Oh, mate, you have no idea how famous you are in the wizarding world," Ron babbled. "We’ve all grown up hearing your story. And honestly, you’ve been in The Daily Prophet every day this month."

"Dad said they even wanted to interview you, but Dumbledore stopped them."

"They’re overreacting," Harry said flatly. "Is the magical world so uneventful that the smallest news becomes a big deal?"

"Sort of, yeah. But I think they’re right this time," Ron said, scratching his head. "Especially that photo of you from last month—Ginny even cut it out and put it in her room. Oh, Ginny’s my sister. She’s a huge fan of yours."

Ron gestured animatedly with his hands.

"—Anyway, that big stone golem, that was amazing. Dad said most adult wizards couldn’t pull that off. How did you do it?"

Harry struggled to keep a straight face. What? Someone took a photo that day and published it? How did I not notice?

He vaguely recalled Hagrid mentioning a newspaper he’d show Harry when they reached Hogwarts.

Be wary of Hagrid, Harry thought.

Across from him, Hermione’s expression darkened visibly with every passing moment.

"You—you’re really Harry Potter?" Hermione’s voice carried an inexplicable quaver, almost as if she were about to cry. "Then everything you just said—is it true?"

Hermione was clearly nervous.

Or perhaps, ever since she learned about the existence of the wizarding world a month ago, she had been perpetually on edge.

With a naturally competitive and stubborn personality, Hermione had approached the magical world with excitement and curiosity—but also an acute sense of urgency. Coming from a Muggle family, she feared falling behind other students and being ridiculed for it.

During the month before term started, she had devoured books, practiced spells, and memorized texts furiously, all to ensure she wouldn’t be mocked or left behind.

So, when she boarded the train, leaving her parents behind, and entered this compartment, she was already tense. Seeing a boy her age engrossed in a thick book—a third-year textbook she had tried and failed to understand—only heightened her unease.

For both wizards and Muggles, the ability to foresee the future is an alluring concept. But Harry had just dismissed Hogwarts’ divination textbook as incorrect, igniting Hermione’s sense of indignation.

"What’s going on?" Ron asked, confused.

"Divination!" Hermione exclaimed. "He just said Hogwarts’ divination textbooks are wrong and that magical talent is the most important thing!"

"Oh, is that all?" Unlike Hermione’s agitation, Ron’s reaction was surprisingly calm. "If anyone else said that, I might not believe them, but he’s Harry Potter."

"If you grew up in the magical world, you’d know most wizards believe Harry Potter was born with immense magical power. Otherwise, he couldn’t have defeated You-Know-Who as a baby."

Ron glanced cautiously at Harry, lowering his voice.

"…Then there’s the group who believe Harry’s actually a natural-born Dark Wizard, even more powerful than You-Know-Who. They think he’s destined to—uh, take over the wizarding world or something."

Harry couldn’t help it—he burst out laughing.

Seriously? These wizards are way too superstitious. Or maybe the existence of magic itself makes them obsess over destiny and ‘Chosen One’ nonsense.

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