Wizards popped into existence on either side of me as they passed through their barrier to join the crowded platform. Above the heads milling about, I could see a scarlet steam engine waiting for me to board.
Despite my sudden dejected spirits, I could not wait to see what awaited me aboard the Hogwarts Express. I had read about it, of course. The train was the solution to the increasing number of accidents and muggle sightings that accompanied large numbers of witches and wizards travelling as they pleased. After the statute of secrecy passed, it was even more necessary to find a way for students to get to school. Of course, using a muggle invention was beneath many, but the ministry had insisted. My father was highly against this mode of transportation, another argument for Durmstrang. I, however, had no such qualms. I was curious at how the muggles had gotten such a thing to work, without using magic!
Muggles really are much more resourceful than wizards- I cringed away from the thought before I could betray my family further. Why must I be so stupid? Why does my every thought seek to disgrace the Malfoy name? I lamented.
This is why Father had positioned a sentry for me, to ensure I do not disgrace him with such thoughts. Muggles are not so bad and muggleborns really are no different than the rest of wizards, I remember voicing these thoughts to Father once, long ago. I could remember the white hot knives of the cruciatus curse and the enraged voice shrieking to never speak of such things.
I tried, I really did, but occasionally I found myself wondering about some muggle invention or pondering life without magic. Occasionally, my tongue would slip and let loose the abhorrent thoughts. If his wand was with him, Father would try again to teach me with the curse, if not, Father was resourceful enough without it.
I fought the shivers creeping down my back and turned my focus to my father and the Goyles.
"-must be leaving, you will report to me?" Father asked, turning his gaze to Gregory. The boy nodded mutely. Father's eyes flashed at the disrespectful lack of an answer but let it go with a nod of his own. He turned to me, gripped my shoulder, and pulled me closer to his face. He leaned closely to hiss quietly in my ear, "Remember your lessons; if I hear of anything that is not befitting the Malfoy name, I will personally drag you home and ensure you never disgrace me again." His fingers dug tighter into the groove above my collarbone until I nearly cried out from the pressure.
I quickly smoothed my expression as he released me. Malfoys do not show pain. The exchange seemed to draw several eyes, perhaps it was merely curiosity for a young Malfoy, but Father must have thought the same. As he stepped away, he glanced at the pausing passerby and patted my head. It was meant to seem soothing, and certainly placated the onlookers, but the gesture was much too rough against my tender head. Nausea swelled up, threatening to show on my expression, I pushed against the rising symptom of a concussion and was soon back in control. Father left quickly, striding toward the archway, and I watched as he disappeared.
I excused myself from the Goyles, murmuring to the younger that he would find me on the train, and headed to find a compartment.
The crowd jostled me a bit, witches and wizards and animals too excited to stand still. Near the front of the train, compartments were already full, with children hanging out sharing tearful goodbyes with their family. I looked away from the exchange, willing tears not to rise in my own eyes as I couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between my goodbye and theirs. Father loves me, I pathetically reminded myself.
Near the middle of the train, I found a nearly empty compartment. I hesitated outside, debating whether I should impose myself on the two students already inside. The crowd outside the train decided for me. The number of people was swelling and I could hardly stand to have them so close. I entered the compartment and prepared to introduce myself.
"Draco?" The girl inside questioned. I studied her face for a moment, trying to place her. The girl's ebony hair hung above her slight shoulders, lightly grazing her pointed chin. Her full lips pushed into a pout, clearly realizing I did not remember her. "I'm Pansy Parkinson," she simpered.
"Yes, of course," I stated cordially, my manners not allowing me to admit I had forgotten.
Though she wasn't fooled, she dropped her pout before continuing, "We met at the event held by the ministry, last year."
That would explain why I hadn't remembered her. Father had been invited, as a prestigious member of the ministry, to a rather large event and had been reluctant to bring me. Mother had insisted I be allowed to go and Father was happy enough with her bout of wellness to oblige. I had been to similar occasions before but none of that magnitude.
I was distracted the whole event, struggling to keep my face clear of the pain Father had inflicted to remind me to not be an embarrassment. I vaguely remembered being introduced to several children but I was not allowed to play with them. Such a thing as seeking was not befitting of a Malfoy. I remembered watching the children chase each other around, laughing with glee, while trying not to notice the way my suit irritated the scorch marks lacing my skin.
I shook my head slightly to clear the memory. I infused my voice with all the charm I had been taught, "Of course, I apologize, I really ought to remember a fine girl such as yourself."
She rolled her eyes and I drew my eyebrows up in surprise at her reaction. "Drop the chivalrous act, Draco. We've all been raised with it and it gets tiring. Don't you think?" Had her voice really been simpering only a second ago? Now it was cold and teasing and filled with outright honesty. I rather liked this voice.
"Alright," I agreed simply.
She sat down and waved her hand for me to follow. I sat across from her and looked at the boy, wondering if I had met him before, as well. Pansy noticed my gaze and gestured vaguely to the boy, "This is Blaise. He's an idiot. You met him at the event, too."
I laughed at her casual insult but caught myself quickly. Blaise surveyed me with a look of arrogance that melted into a smile. "Draco, I remember you." I didn't understand what he was smiling at but the grin was infectious.
"Wish I could say the same," I teased, slightly surprised by my casualness.
Our laughter was cut short by the reappearance of Gregory. Pansy surveyed him with a look of distaste and Blaise had resumed his haughty manner. I noticed a slightly shorter figure behind him and raised my brow at the intrusion. "Malfoy," Gregory grunted before stepping into the compartment. The wide space seemed much smaller with his wide body standing in the middle of it.
"Goyle," I greeted. With a gesture to the boy behind him, I asked, "Who's your friend?"
Gregory- Goyle, I mentally corrected- looked back to the heavy set boy before grunting, "Crabbe." I sighed inwardly- was this boy only capable of one word at a time?- before standing to shake hands with the newcomer. He seemed confused by the gesture and I resisted the urge to sigh aloud. Finally, he took my hand and I could make introductions.
I turned from the sudden silence in the compartment to the conversations outside. I was enraptured by the goodbyes of one family near by as the mother implored, " you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've—you've blown up a toilet or—"
I stifled a laugh as two similar voices replied, "Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet. Great idea though, thanks, Mom."
"It's not funny," chided the mother. Yes it is, I argued with her. "And look after Ron," she continued.
"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us." One of the older boys said.
"Shut up," came a new voice.
I waited for the inevitable thud to such a remark, but it never came, the older boy just continued as if nothing happened. "Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train? You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"
"Who?" Asked the mother, I wondered at her tone, it was not enraged by the rude remarks or annoyed by the questions.
"Harry Potter!" Came the reply. I sat up straighter, Harry Potter? I couldn't believe it. I should have known the legend would be in my year, but still, Harry Potter.
"Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see him, Mom, oh please…" piped up a little girl's voice. I felt a flash of annoyance at her pleading and quite agreed with the mother's reply.
""You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo." She directed her words back toward the older boy, "Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"
"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there—like lightning."
"Poor dear—no wonder he was alone, I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform." Why would the Harry Potter be alone? Surely, he would have an entourage of wizards to escort him to the train. I mused briefly.
"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?" Came one of the older boy's voice. I could easily picture him with a constant grin and mischievous eyes.
Their mother suddenly became very stern. "I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school."
"All right, keep your hair on." Again, I waited for the sound of a blow, but one didn't come. Perhaps this witch only taught her sons about manners at home? My father certainly tried, but I couldn't imagine him allowing me to say such a thing, no matter the company present.
"Hurry up," their mother suddenly called out, though without any impatience. They said their goodbyes and I could hear the girl burst into tears.
"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls." Said one boy.
"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat." Joked another.
"George!"
"Only joking, Mom." Though from his tone I could picture the same easy grin, that might indicate otherwise.
The train began to move and I turned my thoughts from the strange family. I was still nervous about Hogwarts; but, as the train pulled me to the castle, I realized I was once again excited about the destination.
I didn't know what I was going to—but it had to be better than what I was leaving behind.
Author commentary: I am very excited for this story and am in the process of writing another chapter, neglecting my homework in the process, but- oh well. How do you guys like it so far? Leave a review, like, favorite, follow, or what not.
Also- exciting news...I got my first review today! Keep it up, I'm excited to hear what you think and don't be afraid to add critiques!
K- I'm going back to writing now...byyyeeeeeee!