And there he was.
After elaborately disgraceful tales of how the boy was less worthy of life than a cockroach, after harrowing recounts of how his powers were comparable to the greatest of wizards even as a small child, he had come to expect, well, more…or at least a bit more than the pitiful sight before him.
"Well, well, isn't that something? Apparently defeating the Dark Lord is quite the simple task compared to that step up," Lucius mused, grimacing as he rested his large, bony hand between his son's shoulder blades.
Draco fidgeted slightly, humor alight in his stormy eyes. There was Harry Potter—a boy whose accomplishments shadowed those of childhood fantasy heroes— futilely attempting to reach the handle fastened to the side of one of the train's entranceways, which continuously remained a few inches out of his reach. While other first years and their belongings were being hoisted up onto the Hogwarts Express by parents or older siblings, Harry had swung one of his short legs over the threshold so that his trainer wedged itself against the sliding door. Thrilled with his new foothold, he leaned himself forward into the entrance, hoping his body weight would further tilt him inwards, but just as he thought he might just make it onto the train without too many stares, his wedged-in foot slipped, so that he slid absurdly on his front back onto the platform.
Draco laughed. Loudly. It really was a ridiculous sight to behold, and Potter's small yelp of surprise upon hitting the ground and his now motionless, spread-eagle figure had only added to his amusement, so that he was now bent almost double. Looking down at the boy through mirthful tears, laughter caught in his throat as Potter pushed himself up and locked eyes with the blond, cheeks bright red, forearms grazed and slightly bloodied against the concrete. The mutual stare couldn't have lasted longer than a few moments, but Draco used the time to fully take in the sight before him.
He was small, maybe an inch or two shorter than him and certainly littler than most eleven-years-olds. His eyes were green—very green, kind eyes that looked positively mutated whilst staring up at Draco with such anger and humiliation. He had black hair or at least frighteningly close, darker than the darkest brown he had ever laid eyes on. It stuck up wildly in the back, most likely unintended, for the rebellious, tousle-haired look was definitely not his style. His clothes could have looked quite nice on someone four times his size and weight, but as they were simply hung pathetically on his petite frame. His skin tone reminded him, oddly enough, of his family's gardener, tanned with ruddy cheeks that contrasted sharply with his light eyes. His glasses, from what he could see by the lens that was intact made his large eyes look even more great and questioning. Draco took a few steps forward, and he saw the crease between Potter's eyes deepen, his lips twitch downward. But before he could open his mouth, Draco was cut off by a harried-looking seventh year who gasped loudly as he noticed the dark-haired boy lying on the ground.
"Oh, oh my goodness!!!" he exclaimed, and as Harry adjusted his broken glasses to get a better look at the cruel boy who had begun to approach him, he felt himself being seized under the arms and lifted easily off the ground before finally being set down upon slightly unsteady legs. The young man was quite handsome and very tall; Harry had to look up a little just to see the shimmering HB crest stitched into his robe. "Are you alright? How did you get hurt? Where are your parents?"
"I-I couldn't get onto the train on my own. It's too high," Harry explained. "And I don't have—" Harry was cut off by the young man sweeping his hand over Harry's forehead. Blushing and looking away quickly, Harry finally got a clear view of the boy who had laughed at him.
"You're Harry Potter!" the Head Boy exclaimed, spotting the scar that looked far too exciting for such a little guy. "It's a pleasure…here, let me help you onto the train and we'll find you a seat." But Harry stood firmly rooted to the ground, looking at the boy from before. Draco's expression quickly changed from one of mild interest to jealousy within an instant at the Head Boy's sycophantic behavior. He scowled, and Harry noticed how the sharp angles in his face added masculinity to his otherwise somewhat delicate features, with such fair skin and hair. He was slender in a way that was quite different than Harry's scrawniness, like he had the potential to become formidable-looking as an adult, and his eye color was of the sky before a thunderstorm. Harry shivered slightly as Draco pulled his eyes away from the Head Boy to look directly at him, and the small movement did not go unnoticed by the blond. Harry just blinked as Draco's scowl quickly became a smirk. "Quickly, this way, or you'll be left behind," the Head Boy urged, none the wiser to the recent exchange between the first years. Harry looked at the older boy and nodded as the Hogwarts Express whistled out its last, deafening call.