The compartment door slid open, and a tall boy with dark skin and tightly curled hair peaked inside, dragging a heavy trunk behind him.
"Hey—mind if I sit here? Every other compartment's full," he asked, slightly out of breath.
"Go ahead," Merlin said with a small nod.
"Thanks, mate." The boy dragged his trunk in and sat opposite him. "I'm Lee. Lee Jordan."
Merlin blinked. Lee Jordan? That name sounded familiar. He rummaged through his memories of watching Harry Potter for a moment but couldn't recall anything about him. But since he was mentioned in the movies, he must be a canon character.
"I'm Merlin. Merlin Graves," he introduced himself.
"Merlin?" Lee repeated, his eyes lit up. "That's… actually kind of awesome. You don't happen to be related to the great Merlin, do you?"
Merlin chuckled lightly. "I wish I was, but I'm just an ordinary Muggle-born wizard."
Lee laughed. "Heh, still, cool name. Are you a first year?"
"Yeah."
"Same!" Lee said excitedly. "Can't wait to get there. My mother said Hogwarts is massive. I just hope I don't get lost before classes even start."
Merlin smiled faintly. "Guess we'll find out soon enough."
"So, which house are you hoping to get in?" Lee asked eagerly.
Before Merlin could reply, the compartment door slid open again. This time, two identical red-haired boys appeared, both struggling to drag their trunks inside.
Merlin blinked in surprise. The Weasley twins? Meeting three known characters before even reaching Hogwarts… was he getting the protagonist treatment?
"Oi, this one's empty—"
"—No, wait, not empty, but close enough."
The twins exchanged mischievous grins, then looked at Merlin and Lee.
"Mind if we sit?"
Lee laughed. "Sure, go ahead. Plenty of space left."
"Brilliant!" one of them said, pushing his trunk in. "I'm Fred Weasley."
"And I'm George Weasley," said the other, following right after.
They dropped onto the seats across from Lee, their presence instantly filling the room with energy.
"Are you two twins?" Lee asked curiously.
Fred puffed his chest. "Yep. But I was born five minutes earlier, so I'm the elder brother."
George scoffed. "Elder brother? Five minutes isn't enough time for anyone to even take a dump. What profound life experience did you gain in those five minutes to make you elder brother?"
Lee burst out laughing, and even Merlin couldn't help but smirk. The easy banter lightened the air in the small compartment.
When they'd all finally settled down, Lee steered the conversation back. "So, which house are you guys hoping for? I think Gryffindor is the best. Headmaster Dumbledore was a Gryffindor, and I've heard he's the greatest wizard of all time."
"Same," Fred said. "Our parents were both in Gryffindor. If we ended up in Slytherin, Mom would probably faint."
"True," George added. "Though it'd be hilarious to watch."
Lee turned to Merlin. "What about you?"
Merlin thought for a moment. "Any house will do, as long as it's not Slytherin."
That earned approving nods all around.
"Good choice," Lee said. "My mother told me most dark wizards come from Slytherin. Half of You-Know-Who's followers were from there too."
Those were Merlin's honest feelings. He wanted a quiet, stable student life. Slytherin, full of proud pure-bloods who looked down on Muggle-borns, was the last place he wanted to end up.
The train lurched with a loud whistle, and soon the rhythmic clatter of wheels filled the silence. Smoke drifted past the window as the platform disappeared from view.
The compartment quickly grew lively. Fred and George told stories about their home—the Burrow—and how their mother had chased them around with a frying pan after one of their "experiments" exploded. Lee, in turn, talked about his father being a journalist in the Muggle world and his dream to become one too.
Merlin mostly listened, speaking up once or twice. After all, there wasn't much he could add—at least not from this world. Still, he found himself enjoying the lively atmosphere.
Sometime around midday, Lee rummaged through his trunk and pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet. He spread it open on the table between them.
"Hey, listen to this," he said. "Millicent Bagnold's announced her retirement! After this year, she's stepping down as Minister. The rumor is that Dumbledore might take her place!"
Fred made a face. "Thats unlikely. My Dad said Dumbledore could've been Minister ages ago if he wanted. He just doesn't care about politics."
George leaned over the paper. "Then who do you think's got a chance? Oh, look—there's a betting section! You can actually bet on who becomes the next Minister."
Merlin's ears perked up. "Bet?"
"Yeah," George said, tapping the column. "You just send your name and wager to the Prophet's address."
Merlin scanned the section quickly. Sure enough, there was a list of potential candidates with odds next to each name. It was legitimate, hosted by the Daily Prophet itself.
His mind spun with possibility. 'If I remember correctly, Cornelius Fudge becomes Minister soon.'
It was a golden opportunity to make a fortune in the wizarding world. Unfortunately, his pockets were empty. Not a single Galleon to his name.
Merlin sighed inwardly but made up his mind to earn Galleons after reaching Hogwarts before the deadline.
"What, interested?" Lee asked, catching his expression. "You shouldn't gamble, brother. You'll just lose money."
Merlin shrugged. "You're overthinking it. I don't have any money to gamble with anyway. But if I did, I'd bet on Fudge. I've got a gut feeling he'll win."
Fred stared at him in surprise. "You'd bet on Fudge? There are 17 candidates, and his odds are five to one! He's not even the favorite."
Merlin shrugged. "My gut feelings are rarely wrong. This might be your chance to earn a fortune."
"We don't have any money to bet either," the twins said together, shaking their heads. The Weasley family wasn't exactly wealthy, and most of their pocket money went into manufacturing prank items.
Their eyes turned to Lee.
"Don't look at me!" Lee said quickly, throwing up his hands. "I'm saving my Galleons for school stuff!"
Merlin chuckled and changed the subject. "By the way, do you know how students get sorted?"
Lee shook his head. "No clue. My mom refused to tell me."
"Percy told us there's a test," George said with a perfectly straight face. "You've got to fight a mountain troll. Those who give up like cowards go to Slytherin, those who fight bravely go to Gryffindor, those who refuse to participate end up in Ravenclaw, and the rest—well, they're Hufflepuffs."
Lee froze. "A mountain troll?"
Fred nodded gravely. "That's right. But don't worry—we've prepared for this day. We're selling Dungbombs for emergencies. Knock the troll out cold, and bam—you're a Gryffindor. Since we're friends, we'll give you a 30% discount."
"You're insane," Lee said, looking pale. But a moment later, he reached into his trunk, pulled out 'The standard book of spells' and began flipping through it, muttering under his breath. "Maybe there's a charm to stun trolls…"
The twins burst into laughter.
Merlin leaned his head against the window, a small smile tugging at his lips. Outside, the sun was sinking lower, the sky glowing orange over the countryside.
Suddenly, the compartment door slid open again, and an elderly witch in a neat uniform poked her head in, smiling warmly. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"
The scent that drifted in made the entire compartment light up. Lee's eyes gleamed. "Whoa… that smells amazing."
Merlin's eyes fell on the dazzling items on display. There were pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, cauldron cakes, and butterbeer, fizzing faintly in glass bottles. But recalling his empty pockets, he sighed and quietly opened his enchanted briefcase and pulled out a small wrapped bundle—two slightly squashed jam sandwiches he'd taken from the orphanage cafeteria that morning.
He unwrapped one and took a bite. The bread had already gone dry around the edges, and the jam was far too sweet, but he didn't complain. After all, food was food.
Fred and George, sitting across from him, did the same—pulling out lunchboxes packed by their mother.
"Corned beef again," Fred muttered, wrinkling his nose.
George sighed dramatically. "She says it'll build character but I think it just builds resentment."
That earned a small laugh from Lee, who was still staring longingly at the trolley. The witch's gaze fell on him expectantly, her smile persuasive—the kind that made you feel guilty for saying no.
Lee hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over his pocket. He glanced at the others. Then, letting out a sigh, pulled out a few Sickles from his pocket. "Four Chocolate Frogs, please."
The witch's face brightened as she handed over the sweets. Lee accepted them, smiling awkwardly, and then tossed one to each of them.
"Here," he said. "Can't eat these alone."
Merlin blinked in surprise. "You don't have to—"
"Too late," Lee grinned. "I already bought them."
Fred and George immediately tore open the wrappers, the frogs leaping onto the table before being caught mid-jump.
"Brilliant reflexes," George said.
Fred glanced down at the card inside. "Hey, I got Dumbledore again. That's the third time."
"Wanna trade it for Morgana?" George offered.
"Not a chance," Fred decisively refused.
Their playful argument filled the compartment, mingling with the rhythmic clatter of the train.
Merlin looked at the frog-shaped chocolate in his own hand for a moment before unwrapping it. It wriggled once, trying to jump away, but he caught it easily.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
Lee smiled. "Don't mention it. We're all friends from now on, right?"
Merlin nodded, taking a small bite. The chocolate melted softly on his tongue, rich and warm. It felt so much better than the stale jam sandwich.