There is a lightning-shaped scar under the broken hair.

Ron stared blankly: "Is this what the mysterious person did?"

"Yes." Harry nodded and leaned forward. "In fact, I'm curious why you call Voldemort the You-Know-Who, the Dark Lord, or the Man Who Must Not Be Called."

Ron shuddered. "Oh, no, I knew it, I thought, you're the only one of all people who could name it."

"So, why can't we just call Voldemort?" Harry was still very curious.

The reason is not stated in the book.

Texts involving "Voldemort" are also referred to as "the Dark Lord" or "that man".

Ron was stunned, his mind began to not respond: "I... I don't know either, but my parents have always told me that if you say the Dark Lord's name, bad things will happen."

"Curse?" Harry thought of a passage in "Dark Arts: A Guide to Self-Defense" - "Beware of those ancient, evil words. The words themselves also contain the power of curses."

Ron looked very unnatural, and his tone was a little pleading: "Oh, let's not continue talking about this topic, okay? Why don't we talk about which Quidditch team you like?"

Harry didn't press it.

Although he was indeed curious about it.

They talked about other topics, and it was also very interesting to look at the world from the perspective of a little wizard.

Demon hunters aren't very good at chatting.

But Ron is good at it.

Ron didn't say anything until noon, when they bought some food.

With a loud "clang".

Just when Ron was wondering whether the weird beans with a booger taste better or the weird beans with a mud taste better.

The door was opened roughly.

A girl with big front teeth and thick brown curly hair stuck her head in. "Did any of you see a toad? Neville lost a toad."

Harry raised his head and looked over, but said nothing.

"What are you looking at? I'm asking you a question." The girl still had a haughty tone.

Harry spoke, sincerely and doubtfully: "Are you an orphan without a father or a mother like me?"

The girl was stunned.

This question...

Maybe he was scolding himself?

Absolutely.

But how to refute? He even scolded himself... Maybe this person doesn't know how to speak and is just simply curious?

The girl hesitated for a moment: "Oh, no, sorry, I'm not an orphan."

Harry raised his hand and pointed at Ron. "There are seven children in his family. His parents taught him to knock before entering other people's carriages. Why don't you know how to do it?"

Ron looked up blankly from his mouth full of pumpkin pie.

I was just an innocent bystander, why did an arrow suddenly hit my knee?

He understands what I mean.

But why...it sounds so uncomfortable.

The girl blushed, "I'm sorry, I was too anxious, but Neville's pet is gone."

"We didn't see it," Harry replied.

The girl backed out and hastily closed the door. "Thank you, sorry for bothering me."

Ron looked at the person sitting opposite him with complicated eyes: "Harry, I don't mean anything else, but has anyone ever told you that there might be something wrong with the way you speak?"

Harry nodded in agreement: "Yes, many people have said so, and I think there are some problems too."

"You know what? Whenever I think I'm communicating with someone in a gentle way, it always turns into a fight."

"Then you should change it." Ron offered very solid advice.

Harry looked over in confusion and said confidently: "As long as we can beat them, it will be fine, right?"

Ron opened his mouth, speechless.

He looked at Harry in confusion - with his thin body, he didn't look like someone who could fight.

Bang—the carriage door was opened again.

Still no knock.

More people came in, three boys, led by a little boy with platinum hair and pale face. The brown-haired girl had arrogance on her lips, and he had arrogance on his face.

"I heard that Harry Potter is in this workshop." He looked between the two people, and when he saw Ron, a glaring look of disgust appeared on his face. Then he quickly turned his head to look at Harry, "That's you?"

"You too..." Harry began, about to ask a question.

Ron interrupted: "He has parents, the Malfoys... This behavior is really disgusting."

Malfoy was puzzled.

Everyone has parents, isn't this common sense?

"Then why don't you knock?" Harry changed the subject and asked directly.

Malfoy raised his head arrogantly and stretched out his hand to Harry: "I came here to be friends with you, but it seems that you have made a friend in advance?"

"But, Potter, even though we are both from wizarding families, there are still differences between us."

"I heard from my father that the pure-blood scum, the red-haired Weasley family, gave birth to a bunch of stinky boys."

"Obviously—"

"Potter, I don't think you would want to make friends with an alien."

Ron clenched his fists and his face turned red.

Harry didn't extend his hand, just stared at Malfoy.

A pair of cat eyes, looking at each other, made him feel a creepy chill from the bottom of his heart.

"We are already outliers, aren't we?" Harry smiled, shook his head and spoke.

Malfoy retracted his hand, his expression cold, making his already pale face look even more sickly: "Alien? It seems you have been in the world of mudbloods for too long!"

"Potter, if I were you, I would be extra careful. If you hang out with a shady guy like Weasley, you will become a shady guy sooner or later."

Harry sighed and clenched his fists. "I am communicating with you very seriously."

“But the result should be a collapse.”

"Then let's just skip all that nonsense." He stood up and took a fighting stance, "Whether you come at me all at once or one by one, I can handle it."

Malfoy took a step back. "What do you want to do? Fight?"

"Isn't it?" Harry asked back.

"Goyle, Crabbe, teach him a lesson!" Malfoy glanced at the two followers beside him and sneered, "Calm down this ungrateful scarred man."

Harry felt no emotion.

He knew it had to be like this.

He dodged sideways and threw a jab, hitting Goyle right on the bridge of the nose - blood and snot spurted out, staining Malfoy's platinum hair with some blood.

He bent over and half-crouched, then threw an uppercut, hitting Crabbe on the chin.

Not enough power to knock it away.

But Crabbe's expression suddenly twisted after being hit on the jaw, and Harry took the opportunity to throw another swinging punch.

Even if an eleven-year-old child is big, how much resistance can he have?

The two of them held their heads, half-knelt on the ground, wailing in pain.

Malfoy looked at Harry in fear.

"Are you coming again?" Harry said expressionlessly, shaking his hands to get rid of the blood and snot on them.

Malfoy stumbled and backed away.

Crabbe and Goyle also half-rolled out of this carriage.

Harry closed the door.

When he sat down again, Ron looked strange, even a little excited: "Now I believe you can really fight. You knocked down two big guys with just two or three punches."

"They are weak." Harry shook his head, not proud at all. Bullying a child even made him feel guilty for a second or two. "As a wizard, they don't even cast a spell."

Of course... he wouldn't give anyone the chance to pull out their wand.

"No, young wizards don't know how to cast spells before they enter school." Ron immediately shook his head in denial. Halfway through his words, he remembered Harry's levitation spell and added hesitantly, "You are an exception. After all, you are the savior."

Harry unwrapped a licorice stick and bit it in his mouth: "Is there something wrong with what I just said?"

Ron was startled: "Which sentence?"

"Every sentence." Harry was a little confused. "And what does Mudblood mean?"

Ron's facial features twisted. "That's a bad word. It's a dirty word that discriminates against Muggle-born wizards. It's ugly. Only those evil, hopeless dark wizards would say it."

"Take Malfoy, for example."

"And those Slytherins are inherently evil."

Harry bit down the liquorice stick with a crunch. "But isn't that true for Muggles, too?"

"Muggles, too?" Ron didn't quite understand what this meant.

Harry swallowed what he had in his mouth. "I mean, aren't Muggles just like Mudbloods? They have a strong sense of discrimination."

"Why do you say that?" Ron was puzzled.

"How do you spell Muggle words?" Harry ran his fingers across the table. "M-U-G-G-L-E."

"You didn't notice anything wrong?"

Ron was still confused.

"Don't wizards learn words?" Harry raised his eyebrows, a little surprised.

Ron blushed a little: "No, we learned it, of course we did!"

"It's just that I don't understand what you mean, what's wrong with this word?"

Harry sighed. "The root of Muggle is M-U-G. Muggle."

Ron asked back, "That's not what the cup means."

"It can also be used of people, meaning fools." Harry nodded at the table.

In fact, he preferred the name for humans who could not perform magic as described in magic history books - "mo-maj".

Once again, Ron's brain didn't respond.

He found it a little hard to accept that a word that he had used for such a long time actually had such a meaning.

A strange male voice sounded in the car.

"The vehicle will arrive at Hogwarts in five minutes. All students please change into school uniforms and leave your luggage on the bus. We will deliver your luggage to your dormitory."

Harry stood up, waved his wand, took out his school uniform, and patted Ron on the shoulder: "Don't think too much, it's just a name."

"If you're used to it, just keep using it."

Ron struggled: "But you said it was stupid."

"Mug is stupid, but muggle is not." Harry shrugged and changed his clothes. "The name doesn't change anything."

Ron nodded: "Oh, okay."

"Have you decided which branch you want to go to?"

He adjusted his mood quickly, after all, he claimed that he must become a Gryffindor man. Almost instantly, he put the bad things behind him.

Harry thought for a moment. "Maybe Gryffindor."

The deans of the four colleges all have holy relics. Gryffindor's relic is a sword forged by goblins - that might be some extraordinary magical item. For a witcher, nothing could be more attractive than a sword.