"Fathers told me all about the wizarding world," Malfoy ranted on, "They're some really dodgy people as well."
"Like who?" Pansy answered, reckoning she knew one wizard, "I'm pretty sure Mundungus Fletcher is dodgy."
"I reckon he is too," Malfoy replied, "but no point making assumptions."
Malfoy glanced towards Harry's direction, curious about his interests, this was a complete change of topic but so be it; the more he knew about the Potter boy the better.
"Do you like Quidditch?"
"Yeah!" Harry shot as though it was the dumbest question he had ever been asked, "who doesn't?"
"Only a dumb mud-blood with barely any common sense," Malfoy joked, even though Harry had acted sarcastically earlier on. The rest in the compartment sniggered for several moments which clearly never seemed to end; Harry was going to like these people, he knew for sure. The fact that they found mostly everything amusing just as he did greatly satisfied him, it made Harry feel though he had friends who understood him. Maybe he was destined to hang out with these exact people. Bit too far though, probably not.
As the train drew to a close, the "gang" formed in Harry's compartment proceeded to a boat, acknowledging the fact that first years travelled to school by them. A giant seeming teacher boomed out the instructions of how going by boat worked, though Harry and his friends had already settled.
Malfoy seemed to find it amusing to splash water at nearby boats; especially Ron and Hermione's. They refused to act at the immaturity, well Ron was tempted to, but Hermione had convinced him not to.
"The sorting will be interesting," Malfoy's smirk increased, "We'll see who the worthy Slytherins are. I'll never forgive any of you for making it into Gryffindor or Hufflepuff."
"Looks like I'm going to try my best to get into Slytherin then," Harry lightly sighed and simantaneously, the others (except Malfoy) agreed, though this was because Malfoy had already declared that he'd be in Slytherin.
It wasn't long before the first years had arrived at the castle. They were attentive to Professor McGongall as she fed them instructions as to how the sorting worked.
"You will be called alphabetically to the front of the hall and from there the sorting hat shall select you a house," she glared towards the pupils, "Do I make myself clear?"
A chorus of yes' filled the room; the first years alphabetically lined up as they awaited their results from the sorting hat. Harry's nerves kicked in, what if he was sorted into a terrible house and his friends didn't think of him as the same person they knew and befriended? Enough of those negative thoughts.