At Hogwarts, the story begins with deconstructing Avada Kedavra.

King's Cross Station, September 1st.

The roar of steam locomotives mingled with the clamor of voices, stirring the morning into a bubbling soup. For most of the young wizards visiting Platform Nine and Three-Quarters for the first time, every inch of the air was filled with magic and excitement.

But for Lucian, it was too noisy here.

He stood alone at the edge of the platform, the old leather suitcase, enchanted with a Threadless Stretch spell, standing quietly behind him. Unlike the others, he didn't push a large, fully loaded cart, nor did he bring an owl or a toad. Ashford Estate did have an old raven, but he found the bird too noisy and left it at the estate to guard the place.

Lucien, wearing a dark-colored stand-up collar coat and silver-rimmed glasses, stood out from the crowd.

He cast a confusion spell on himself. Within three meters of him, passing wizards and their parents would instinctively steer clear, because to others he appeared to be nothing more than an inconspicuous pillar.

His gaze, peering through his glasses, scrutinized the bright red Hogwarts Express.

"The Magic Circuit still uses the 'Merlin Triangle' structure from three centuries ago."

He mentally sentenced the Hogwarts Express to death; it was nothing more than a pile of industrial junk cobbled together based on wizards' wild imaginations.

He wondered to himself: what would our productivity be like if magic could be reasonably combined with Muggle technology?

Just as he was about to board the train, a commotion came from the direction of the entrance.

A group of red-haired people rushed in like a burning flame. Behind them followed a black-haired boy pushing a cart, his face full of confusion yet trying hard to hide his nervousness.

Harry Potter.

Without pausing, Lucien looked away, turned, and boarded the train.

……

The nearest carriage was already filled with excited students.

Lucian didn't want to participate in that childish social activity of exchanging Chocolate Frog cards, so he went straight to the second-to-last carriage of the train and sat down in an empty compartment.

A thick, black-covered notebook appeared out of thin air from the suitcase, automatically flipping to page 247, and a finely crafted fountain pen began to write nimbly.

However, the peace did not last long.

The door to the private room was pulled open. A tall boy with red hair poked his head in, followed by the black-haired savior.

"Um... it's full everywhere." Ron Weasley looked at the strangely atmosphereed group with an awkward expression: a handsome young man in a retro coat focused on his notebook and a fountain pen floating next to him writing Chinese characters on the notebook.

"Can we squeeze in?"

Lucian raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the two of them before finally settling on Harry, and he nodded slightly.

"Thank you." Harry breathed a sigh of relief and sat down opposite him somewhat awkwardly.

Ron was clearly a restless soul; less than two minutes after sitting down, he began trying to break the silence.

"I am Ron Weasley. This is Harry Potter."

When he uttered the name, he looked at Lucien expectantly, anticipating the look of shock on his face. However, he was disappointed.

Lucian didn't even look up; his pen traced intricate structural diagrams on the paper.

He replied casually, "Lucian Ashford."

Harry was relieved; he really hated having his scars stared at.

Ron, feeling a little embarrassed, tried to find a topic of conversation. His gaze fell on the manuscript in Lucian's hand. It was densely covered with Chinese characters, accompanied by some complex geometric shapes and flowing curves.

"What...what kind of script is that?" Ron asked curiously. "It looks like some kind of ancient magic script."

Lucian put down his pen, and the notebook slowly fell back onto the table.

"These are Chinese characters," he said.

"I use it to make a... personal commentary on the underlying logic of this world. You can think of it as another way of observing magic."

"That sounds profound." Ron pursed his lips, clearly not understanding. To ease the awkwardness, he pulled a fat rat with a missing finger from his pocket.

"This is Spotty, it's always sleeping." Ron placed it on his lap.

Lucian's gaze fell on the rat.

In his mental vision, this was no ordinary rat. Beneath its skin was a wretched, twisted, and putrid humanoid spirit. That spirit was curled up inside the rat's skin like a festering sore on healthy flesh.

Animagus. And it's extremely illegal.

……

Inside the box, Harry and Ron were discussing the failed spell, while Lucian sat in the corner, deep in thought.

He was absolutely certain that the Confusion Spell was still in effect, so why would the main characters come looking for him directly?

Is it the will of the world? Or something else entirely?

Just then, footsteps were heard, accompanied by a slight tremor in the carriage floor.

The sound source was approaching along the corridor and opened the door of the adjacent carriage.

The duo continued their incessant chatter, completely oblivious to the commotion outside.

Lucian could faintly hear a clear female voice.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville lost a toad."

Following the predetermined trajectory, she will stop at the door of this private room in three seconds and open the door.

Lucian didn't look up; he simply put his right hand into his pocket, gripped his wand, and channeled the energy he had accumulated in his dantian.

With a slight thought, an invisible ripple spread through the air, casting a layer of misty presence over the door of the private room.

The footsteps outside hesitated for only a moment as they passed by. The newcomer's subconscious was deceived; her gaze slid past the door as if it were past a blank wall.

The footsteps didn't stop; they went straight to another private room, opened the door,

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville lost a toad."

Lucian remained outwardly calm, but inwardly he was in turmoil.

Harry and Ron were unaware of this, and their conversation continued.

Is some kind of intention nonexistent? Or is it obscured by the confusion spell I cast with my breath?

Lucian's brow furrowed very slightly. He sensed a sense of unease, the echo of the world being corrected after the plot had been forcibly rewritten.

“Speaking of which,” Ron mumbled between chewing his sandwich, “Spotty may just sleep, but at least he doesn’t run around. My mom always says that people who raise toads don’t know any rules and will eventually lose them.”

Harry chuckled and chimed in, "Hagrid also said that toads were outdated and not as practical as owls."

Lucian's gaze sharpened.

No one came looking for the toad, but the keyword "toad" stubbornly persisted in the dialogue. The inertia of the plot was like a rushing river; even if the breach was blocked, the water would still find every crack to seep in.

"Quack."

As if to confirm his guess, the train soon began to shake, and the previously half-closed compartment door was shaken open.

A grayish-brown toad, as if it had been lurking at the door for a long time, hopped in precisely using the force of the current.

Without the slightest hesitation, it landed and leaped straight towards the area where Harry and Ron were, letting out a loud cry.

At the end of the corridor, the footsteps that had just walked away suddenly stopped, then became rapid; the owner of the sound was turning back. His Confusion Charm had failed again.

Lucian frowned.

Harry reached out in surprise: "Hey! Whose toad is this?"

At this moment, the person was still five meters away from the door.

Harry's hand was still ten centimeters away from the toad.

Lucian maintained his languid sitting posture, his hand gripping his wand once more.

Silent spellcasting.

Under his will, the world in the toad's eyes instantly turned upside down. Harry's outstretched friendly hand instantly transformed into a giant snake with its jaws wide open in the toad's perception.

The biological instinct of fear exploded.

Just as Harry's fingers were about to touch its slippery skin, the toad let out a shrill cry and its hind legs unleashed astonishing power.

It suddenly changed direction and sprang out through the half-open door.

It bounced to the other end of the corridor, away from the direction of the woman's voice.

The next second, a figure swept past the door of the private room like a gust of wind.

Her attention was completely drawn to the frantically fleeing toad.

"stop!"

She didn't even glance at the scene inside the box, rushing straight past Harry's cubicle and chasing the toad until it disappeared at the end of the corridor.

But in that one glance, Lucian recognized the person who had just arrived.

It's Hermione Granger.

Inside the box, Harry found nothing and stared blankly at the empty floor.

"Wow," Ron blinked and commented, "that toad must be crazy."

"Maybe he doesn't like the smell here." Harry shrugged, turning his attention back to Scabbers in Ron's hand. "Never mind it, Ron, why don't you try casting another spell?"

A series of chaotic crashes and screams echoed from the end of the corridor.

Lucian turned his head slightly; even through the wall of the private room, his senses could visualize the scene outside:

Hermione bumped into someone.

Hermione, in her haste to chase the toad, bumped into a group of people who were swaggering around the corner.

A tall, thin boy, and two sturdy followers behind him.

The plot continues to move forward with unwavering determination.

"Can't you see where you're going?" The tall, thin boy's signature drawn-out voice came through the door, sounding somewhat muffled. "Look at your filthy robe, and this disgusting toad... What is this? Which mud puddle did you crawl out of?"

"I'm sorry, I'm looking for..." Hermione's voice sounded a little shaky, but she still tried to reason with them.

"Nobody cares what you're looking for," Malfoy's voice suddenly turned sharp and malicious. "Stay away from me, you filthy Mudblood."

"Mudblood" is a vile term.

Lucian's relaxed hands clenched again. He quickly assessed the situation: there were four people outside the corridor, their emotions in turmoil.

If he wanted to quell the situation with a staffless spell like before, he would need to simultaneously confuse and interfere with four brains in an instant, as well as interfere with the heads peeking out from other compartments.

With his current physical abilities and magical reserves, he is not capable of controlling the situation to this extent.

Is this the will of the world?

Although he successfully prevented Hermione from entering the private room, it was as if an invisible hand had forcibly squeezed all the points of conflict into this short corridor.

Lucian twitched his fingers slightly, casting an amplification spell to clearly send his voice to Harry and Ron's ears; then the carriage door opened automatically without any wind.

"...My father said Hogwarts shouldn't let people like you in!" Malfoy's mocking voice boomed as if roaring in Harry's ear. "Take your damn toad and get the hell out of here!"

Harry, who had been studying the cards, suddenly looked up. He hated this kind of bullying tone; it reminded him of Dudley. Ron's reaction was even more intense.

"Mudblood?!" Ron's face flushed crimson instantly. "How dare he utter that word!"

"What does that mean?" Harry asked immediately.

"That's extremely vile language! It's an insult!" Ron threw away Scabbers, grabbed his wand, and stood up. "Whoever he is, this is outrageous!"

Harry stood up as well, grabbing the doorknob: "We have to go out and see."

Just as the two were about to rush out, a voice interrupted them.

"If you're planning to fight, you'd better tidy yourself up first." Harry and Ron turned around in surprise.

Lucian, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, stood up. He pushed up his glasses, and the aloofness that had kept people at arm's length dissipated somewhat, replaced by a reassuring composure and strength.

Lucien walked up to the two men, and instead of remaining aloof as before, he reached out and opened the door to the private room.

The door opened with a whoosh. The sounds of arguing from the hallway poured in without any obstruction.

Lucian turned to the side, slightly raised his chin at the dumbfounded Harry and Ron, and spoke in a flat tone.

"Let's go. Since someone is making a scene at our doorstep, as gentlemen, we should go out and 'mediate'."

Since some kind of will is determined to clash here, and there's no way to avoid it, then let's get involved.

Incidentally, let's deconstruct him.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and followed closely behind Lucian into the corridor.

The air in the corridor seemed to freeze.

Draco Malfoy was basking in his superiority, a signature mocking smile plastered on his pale, thin face. Opposite him, Hermione stood with her arms crossed, her hair disheveled from the run, the troublesome toad clutched tightly in her hand.

"It seems you can't even find a decent one of your own kind, so you can only be with this..." Malfoy hadn't finished speaking when his gaze passed over Hermione's shoulder and fell on the black-haired boy who came out of the box.

"Harry Potter?" he asked. "Everyone on the train is saying Harry Potter is in this compartment. So, that means it's you, right?"

Immediately afterwards, Ron's red-haired head popped out, his face full of anger.

"Malfoy," Ron said through gritted teeth, "you're not welcome here."