"Wait," Harry said, not rebutting Hermione.
As soon as he spoke, a toad flew in through the door, landing accurately in front of him.
"Look, is this the toad you're looking for?" Harry asked.
Hermione widened her eyes in disbelief, staring at Harry. The Summoning Charm was supposed to be a fourth-year spell, something she had only noticed while casually reading yesterday.
"That's incredible!" Ron sat upright in amazement, exclaiming, "Mate, you truly deserve the title of 'The Boy Who Lived!'"
The hesitation Hermione had just felt vanished in an instant. Of course, he was the savior of the wizarding world, after all.
"I'll go return the toad to Neville; he's probably worried sick," Hermione said, picking up the toad. "Thanks, Harry. I'll come back after dropping it off; I have so many spells I want to ask you about..."
Without waiting for Harry's response, Hermione left the compartment with the toad.
"She's terrifying, isn't she?" Ron muttered with lingering fear as he watched the door. For some reason, every time he saw Hermione, he felt like he couldn't look her in the eye.
Harry shrugged. Back when he was pestering Sebastian to learn dueling, he was far more persistent than Hermione.
"No matter which house I'm sorted into, I hope it's not the same one as hers," Ron continued. "Merlin, she reminds me of Percy—except she's even... more."
He tossed his wand into his trunk, muttering, "That spell’s useless, just another one of George’s pranks—be careful around those two when you get to school. Don’t trust anything they say, and definitely don’t eat anything they give you. I mean it; you'll regret it."
Harry nodded knowingly. If they could even prank their innocent little brother, those twins probably had a special talent for mischief.
"Which house are they in?" Harry asked, already guessing it might be Gryffindor.
Sure enough, Ron replied, "Gryffindor. Mum and Dad were both in that house, and all five of my brothers too. If I don't get into Gryffindor, I can only imagine what they’d say about me. I mean, Ravenclaw wouldn’t be bad, but please, just not Slytherin—"
"Why not?" Harry asked curiously.
"Because Slytherin’s full of dark wizards," Ron said matter-of-factly.
Harry raised an eyebrow. While it was true that Slytherin students didn’t shy away from studying dark magic, the statement seemed a bit harsh.
Could the inter-house rivalries have deepened this much over the past century?
"Why do you think that?" Harry asked, wondering if something had changed over the years.
"Because You-Know-Who was from Slytherin," Ron mumbled. "And after him, almost all the Slytherins became his followers. You know what kind of person he was; anyone who followed him couldn't be good—just a bunch of dark wizards who don’t care about life."
Damn it, Slytherin, how did it come to this?
"Oh, I’m back," Hermione’s voice rang out from the doorway. "I couldn’t find Neville after looking everywhere, so I just left the toad on his desk. What were you talking about?"
"Houses," Ron forced a smile.
Noticing Ron's unease, Hermione asked with concern, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"I’m just wondering what’ll happen if I don’t get into Gryffindor," Ron said, resting his chin on his hands. "Fred and George told me that first-years have to pass an entrance test to be sorted. Their year had to face a troll in groups of ten."
"But didn’t you say—" Harry caught the contradiction. "Not to believe a word they say?"
"That’s true, but I asked Dad, and he said the same thing," Ron said, his face growing more distressed. "But he said their test wasn’t as bad—only five of them had to deal with a giant spider. One unlucky kid got bitten and spent a month in the hospital wing..."
At that moment, a haughty voice came from the doorway.
"So, it’s true? Harry Potter is on this train?"
The three of them looked toward the door. Standing there was a slender boy with pale blond hair slicked back, trying to appear more mature. His gray eyes were cold and proud.
Blond hair and a pompous air—Harry recognized him immediately. Another Malfoy.
Two boys stood behind him, one tall and burly, the other short and pudgy—clearly henchmen.
"This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," the Malfoy introduced his companions. "I’m Draco. Draco Malfoy..."
Ron stifled a cough to keep from laughing.
"You think my name is funny, do you?" Draco sneered at Ron. "I don’t need to ask who you are. Red hair, shabby clothes—you must be a Weasley. My father says the Weasleys have more children than they can afford."
Turning to Harry, he added, "You’ll find some wizarding families are much better than others. You wouldn’t want to make friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
He extended his hand toward Harry.
Harry, who thought of himself as patient, found his temper flaring at Draco's arrogant demeanor. This Malfoy reminded him of Cassandra, but at least Cassandra had manners. She would never insult someone’s family or launch into personal attacks.
This Malfoy had no such restraint.
"I think you owe him an apology," Harry said coldly. "Kids from decent families don’t insult other people’s homes."
"I think Harry’s right," Hermione said firmly, stepping up beside Harry and Ron.
Ron’s eyes reddened. He hadn’t expected these two new acquaintances to stand up for him .
"And who are you?" Draco asked, frowning at Hermione.
"Hermione Granger," she replied proudly.
Draco’s sneer deepened.
"A filthy little Mudblood. You stink—"
"Shut up!" Ron leapt to his feet, pointing his wand at Draco. "How dare you say that word!"
Draco looked back at his companions with a smug grin. "Oh, defending your little girlfriend, Weasley? Are you sure you’re ready to deal with the consequences of cursing me? My father’s on the school board. He could get your father fired in a heartbeat. What would your family do then, huh?"
The response came swiftly.
A yellow light hit Draco, lifting him into the air. His head bumped against the doorframe.
The caster wasn’t Ron, or Hermione.
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