The compartment door slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing a tall, blond-haired young man standing in the entrance.
Draco Malfoy.
Unlike the frail, pale-faced boy described in various books, the Draco Malfoy standing before them had matured into a striking young man. His platinum-blond hair, once slicked back with too much pomade, now fell naturally, giving him a refined, aristocratic air. His sharp grey eyes held the same condescending gleam as always, but there was an undeniable presence to him—one of someone born into wealth and privilege, yet carrying the weight of expectations on his shoulders.
Still, despite his handsome appearance, there was something about him that remained the same—the smug, self-important way he carried himself, the casual arrogance in his stance. He was the kind of person who believed the world should cater to him simply because of his bloodline.
Harry leaned back, curious to see how this meeting would play out.
Draco smirked, his lips curling into a half-smile. "So, it's true. Harry Potter is finally going to Hogwarts."
Harry tilted his head, feigning mild curiosity. "And you are?"
Draco's smirk widened, as if amused by the question. "Draco Malfoy. Of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Malfoy."
He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, gracefully lowering himself onto the opposite seat.
Harry said nothing, merely watching as Draco made himself comfortable.
"I expected to see you surrounded by admirers already," Draco mused, looking around the empty compartment. "But I suppose even The Boy Who Lived has to start somewhere."
Harry chuckled lightly. "I'm not really interested in admirers."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's rather unusual. Most people would kill to be in your position."
Harry smirked. "Good thing I'm not most people, then."
Draco hummed, as if reassessing him. "You're different from what I imagined."
"I get that a lot."
Draco's gaze shifted, landing on the bushy-haired girl sitting beside Harry. Until now, Hermione had remained silent, merely observing the conversation unfold.
Draco frowned slightly. "And you are…?"
Hermione straightened, clearly uncomfortable under his scrutinizing gaze. "Hermione Granger."
Draco's eyes narrowed slightly, as if turning the name over in his mind. "Granger… Granger…" He frowned. "That's not one of the twenty-eight."
Hermione blinked in confusion. "Twenty-eight?"
"The Sacred Twenty-Eight," Draco said as if explaining something obvious. "The most prestigious and purest wizarding families in Britain. I don't recall a 'Granger' among them."
Hermione pursed her lips but said nothing.
Draco studied her for a second longer before something seemed to click in his mind. "Wait… don't tell me—"
The word slipped out before he could stop it. "Mud—"
A sharp, suffocating pressure filled the air.
Draco froze, feeling an unnatural chill creep up his spine. His body locked in place, an instinctive fear gripping his very soul. Slowly, he turned his head—and found himself staring into Harry's piercing green eyes, now cold as ice.
For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy felt something he rarely experienced. Fear.
Hermione, unaware of what had just happened, frowned in confusion. "Mud? What were you going to say?"
Harry's expression immediately softened, his usual easygoing demeanor returning. "Nothing important," he said smoothly, breaking eye contact with Draco. "Here, have some sweets. I bought more than I can eat."
Hermione hesitated for a moment before accepting a Chocolate Frog. She unwrapped it carefully this time, making sure the enchanted frog didn't escape like before.
Draco, meanwhile, exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat. "Right. Sweets."
Deciding to change the subject, he leaned back and smirked. "So, what House do you lot think you'll be sorted into?"
Hermione perked up. "I've been considering Ravenclaw. It's the House for those who love knowledge, and I enjoy studying."
Draco scoffed. "Ravenclaw? It's decent, I suppose. But the greatest wizards come from Slytherin."
"I also thought about Gryffindor," Hermione admitted. "After all, Dumbledore was a Gryffindor, and he's the greatest wizard of our time!"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Please. Dumbledore's an old fool who favors Gryffindor like a lovesick puppy. The only reason people worship him is because he got lucky in his youth."
Hermione's jaw dropped. "That's not true! He defeated Grindelwald!"
Draco smirked. "And? You think that makes him a genius? Power and intelligence aren't the same thing, Granger."
Hermione huffed, clearly agitated.
Harry, meanwhile, shrugged. "I don't really care which House I'm in. Gryffindor and Slytherin both seem interesting."
Draco's head snapped toward him at the mention of Slytherin. His previous discomfort was instantly forgotten. "You're considering Slytherin?"
Harry smirked. "Why not? It's the House of ambition, isn't it? A place for the strong, the cunning. Sounds useful."
Draco's smirk returned in full force. "Now that's more like it. Slytherin produces true leaders. Not to mention, most powerful wizarding families are from Slytherin."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "That doesn't mean they're the best."
Draco ignored her and leaned forward slightly. "Listen, Potter. You and I… we could be friends. Powerful friends. You don't want to associate with just anyone, trust me."
Harry chuckled but didn't respond immediately. He let the idea hang in the air, watching as Draco tried to gauge his reaction.
For the rest of the journey, their conversation flowed naturally—though it was mostly Hermione talking while Draco interjected with his own knowledge of the wizarding world. He explained the history of Hogwarts, the professors they would meet, and various pureblood traditions.
Harry, for the most part, simply listened, taking in everything while letting Hermione and Draco argue when needed.
After what felt like hours, the train finally slowed down.
The voice of the conductor rang through the corridors. "We will be arriving at Hogsmeade Station shortly. Please prepare to disembark."
Hermione stood up, brushing off her robes. "We should get going."
Harry nodded. "Go ahead. I'll be right behind you."
Hermione hesitated but eventually left the compartment.
As soon as she was gone, Harry turned to Draco. His friendly expression vanished, replaced by something far more serious.
"We can be friends, Malfoy," Harry said coolly. "But don't ever say that word again."
Draco stiffened.
For a moment, it looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Harry's eyes stopped him. He gave a small nod. "Fine."
Almost immediately, Harry's usual easygoing smirk returned. "Good. Now, let's get going."
Just as they stepped out, Hermione came back, her brows furrowed. "What's taking so long?"
Harry grinned. "Nothing. Let's go."
And with that, they stepped onto the platform, ready to begin their journey at Hogwarts.
To be continued…