Part I
~o~
A sharp whistle tore through the din of the crowd. As it always was on the first of September, the platform 9 ¾ was full to bursting with exited young witches and wizards and their families. The First years were the easiest to spot, not only because of their height, but also due to the unmistakable look of unease on their faces. After all, the legendary Hogwarts was surrounded by countless tales, and those overexcited youngsters had quite a hard time distinguishing hard facts from all the claptrap their older brothers and sisters told them to pull their leg. Therefore, such questions as "Do I have to go this year?" or "Is it true they've got vampires teaching classes?" could be heard on occasion. Nonetheless, the predominant mood on the platform was upbeat.
Since most of the people arrived here through the concealed archway from a Muggle platform, they had tried their best to look the part. Most ensembles could classified as mildly bewildering, some – a truly unfortunate and a select few – downright disastrous. Somewhere towards the middle of the platform, for instance, three girls were hugging their father, who was confidently sporting a black wet suit, complemented by an avocado-green trench coat, while his wife wore a blue dressing gown and a pair of brown Wellingtons. An elderly couple was observing this family moment in a scandalized manner, quite confident they had all the right to do so. Indeed, their appearance was completely opposite. They wore expensive woolen coats with perfectly tailored suits underneath, all black. A string of perfect pearls decorated the woman's neck; a golden chain, stretching across the man's stomach, indicated a watch hiding in his vest pocket. All the people passing by were giving the couple a wide berth, indicating that the man and a woman were certainly respected.
While the man glared about him in earnest, the woman looked much less severe. It appeared that she had only mirrored her husband's expression without infusing it with a suitable emotion.
"The nerve of some people," the man grumbled haughtily, turning to his wife. "Lunatics!" he spat contemptuously.
"At least we know they are pure-bloods," the woman replied. Her answer, just like her expression earlier, sounded empty of the contempt it required. "If they were Muggle-borns, they'd know how to dress properly."
"If they were Mudbloods, Io," the man hissed, "I wouldn't be standing anywhere near them, now would I?"
"Of course not," Io replied hastily. "Mind your heart, Abraxas," she cautioned.
The man huffed.
A tall youth strolled brusquely towards them. He could almost be called handsome, with his long silvery blond hair and his refined facial features, if it were not for the sour, sneering look on his face. A small boy unwisely chose to wander across his path and was lazily and unceremoniously pushed aside. His black trunk bobbed along in his wake. At closer look, one could spot a tiny house elf who, doubled up and wheezing, lugged the trunk on his back. The poor creature was drenched in sweat, the tip of its long nose bruised raw from being rubbed against the pavement many times in a row.
"Father," the boy drawled resentfully. "They made Sebastian Mancini a Head Boy. The Mudblood Mancini, a Head Boy!" he raised his voice, seeing his parents' initial lack of appropriate reaction. The magic word worked and his father's face became contorted with anger once more. Diligently, Io mimicked her husband again.
"Absurd," Abraxas hissed. The boy sneered. "Oh, I know whose fault this is," Abraxas continued, his thin nostril flaring angrily. "That's Dumbledore's doing. By Jupiter, the place has gone to the dogs ever since he took over. He favors those upstarts every chance he gets. Things will only get worse, mark my word. It is a fine thing indeed, Lucius, that this year is already your fifth."
"Indeed," Lucius agreed. "Professor Slughorn and I have been discussing some career choices once I'm done with school. It is a hard thing at the present time to find a respectable place. I wouldn't want to mix with their kind any more than absolutely necessary. A challenging task, to say the least, but I consider it a matter of honor to excel at it, just as I excel at the rest of my duties." He puffed up his chest where the silvery Prefect badge gleamed atop the inky black fabric of his brand new school robes.
Abraxas smiled proudly, clapping Lucius crisply on the shoulder.
"Good man," he said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but at that very moment he was interrupted.
"Mother, Father!" a young voice called. Upon hearing this voice, the face of the older gentleman soured again. He briefly looked in the direction of the train where a tiny girl was hanging out of the window and waving at him. The girl had the most vivid, offensively shocking red hair that hung to her waist and brilliant emerald-green eyes. Abraxas nodded curtly in her direction and turned away. Lucius ignored her completely. This time however, Io had great difficulty in following in her husband's footsteps. Her eyes lit up as she heard the girl's voice, and for the first time a smile graced her face. It was the only instance she had let her true emotions slip through her tight defenses. This occurrence, however, was extremely brief. In a moment, her face was once again a perfect double of the man right next to her.
"Another good thing, Father," Lucius drawled. "This year you'll be rid of her."
"True," Abraxas said. "She's your problem now, Lucius." Having not thought of this beforehand, Lucius adopted the look of pure aggravation.
"A disgrace to the name Malfoy, this girl," Abraxas continued, shaking his head. "It is your side of the family she gets it from," he threw at his wife. Io gave a barely-discernable flinch, as though she had been slapped, but remained silent.
"Watch her carefully, Lucius, my boy," Mr. Malfoy instructed him. "She has tried to free it again," he jerked his head in the direction of the house-elf who was now wiping his face on the pillowcase he was dressed in, still panting heavily.
"What are you waiting for?!" Lucius barked at the elf. "Put it on the train!" he ordered, slapping the elf upside the head. The tiny creature yelped, and bowing hastily to his young master, fastened his twig-like hands around one of the handles of the trunk and dragged it in the direction of the train. As soon as the girl caught sight of the struggling elf, she at once ran outside, and throwing a dirty look at Lucius, grabbed the trunk as well.
"No, young Mistress mustn't do this!" the elf squealed horrified, trying to push her away. "It is Dobby's job!" The only thing he managed to succeed in doing was loosing his grip on the trunk and dropping it squarely on his foot. Squealing, the elf tried to both lift the trunk and slap away the girl's helping hand, miserably failing at both.
"Don't be ridiculous, Dobby," the girl rolled her eyes, lifting the trunk with considerable effort. "See, much better now," she grunted as Dobby hopped around on his healthy foot, rubbing the crushed one with his hands. "Just help me with this, all right?" she panted. "And don't you push me away, is that clear?" she asked sternly.
"Yes, young Mistress," the elf piped, glancing fearfully at the faces of the other three Malfoys.
"Don't look there," the girl ordered sharply. "Come now, heave!" The girl and the elf grabbed hold of the trunk again and with joined effort tugged it aboard the train.
"Fool of a girl," the older man said. "No Malfoy would be caught dead befriending such vermin." Io's lined face drained promptly of whatever little color it had left, but again she said nothing.
Another whistle blew and Lucius, having received hugs from both of his parents, made haste to climb aboard the train.
As the locomotive clunked into action, many children ran to the windows, shouting their goodbyes to their families on the platform. Lucius's smug face also appeared in the window of his compartment, flanked by five of his fellows Slytherins. While he waved importantly to his father and mother, only the former answered him exclusively. Taking advantage of her husband's distraction, Io turned the other way, towards the one compartment that was empty, save for one person, her daughter. The girl noticed her mother at once and waved enthusiastically back at her. Io smiled lovingly at the girl, tears running down her cheeks
The train issued powerful jets of steam as it gradually gathered speed. Some people remaining on the platform broke into a run to delay the separation, even if for mere moments. The Malfoys remained where they were; neither their age nor their pride allowed them to pursue the train. Another minute and it was gone.
Immediately, the platform filled with multiple cracking noises as some of the adults began Disapparating, while the others made their way towards the gate back to the Muggle world.
Just then, Mr. Malfoy noticed Dobby, who cowered at his feet.
"You!" he spat. "Have you nothing to do? Back to the house!" He nudged the elf with the tip of his gleaming shoe. Dobby bowed humbly, his bat-like ears sweeping the ground, and was gone in a snap of his bony fingers.
Abraxas than turned to Io, who continued to stare in the direction the train had gone.
"Is something a matter, dear?" Mr. Malfoy asked. His voice was filled with pure annoyance at the fact that his wife decided to indulge in a cry in such a public place.
"Rubbish, really," Io replied firmly, pulling out a snow-white handkerchief and wiping her eyes. "Honestly, I do not abide trains at all. Such filthy things, gusting clouds of dust all about."
Abraxas nodded, completely indifferent to getting to the bottom of the matter.
"After you, then," he said.
A dual crack ripped through the air and the couple was gone.
~o~