Disclaimer – It has come to my attention recently that I unfortunately do not own Harry Potter. Who knew.

Author Note – I enjoy writing short stories for my own enjoyment but at a suggestion from a friend, I have decided to start posting some of my stories that I am working on or have completed. All feedback is welcome (hopefully constructive!) Looking forward to what you think!

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The Twist of Fate

Chapter 1: Meeting Drea Malfoy

Harry Potter was unprepared for the wizarding world. But what if one small twist of fate changed the start of his magical journey. What if met someone other than Draco when he went to Madam Malkins. Now Harry Potter must live up to his potential. Will he be able to rise to the challenge? AU/Canon Compliant

As they exited Gringotts, the sound of Hagrid's hearty laughter filled the air, resonating with mirth and satisfaction. Meanwhile, Harry remained in a state of speechless wonderment, his wide-eyed admiration painted vividly on his face. From believing he had nothing to his name, the sight of the countless glistening piles of gold in his newly acquired vault at the bank had left him spellbound, to say nothing of the overall opulence that enveloped Gringotts and the bustling, enchanting spectacle that was Diagon Alley. Ever since Hagrid had picked him up, it was as if he had been transported into a fantastical realm of limitless possibilities and extraordinary beauty. Every corner of this hidden world seemed to hold a new marvel, and Harry's insatiable curiosity surged within him; he yearned to explore every nook and cranny, to unearth all the secrets this realm had to offer.

As the gravity of the moment continued to sink in, Harry couldn't help but ponder what other wonders this day might have in store for him. His mind raced with anticipation, envisioning the possibilities that lay ahead, excited to explore everything relating to Diagon Alley.

Breaking the enchanting silence, Hagrid's voice interrupted Harry's reverie, bringing him back to reality. "Where to now, Harry, got plenty more to get I reckon" Hagrid advised, a trace of a knowing smile on his face. "Do you still have your list?"

Harry nodded in agreement, and in the ensuing hours, the mismatched pair embarked on a whirlwind shopping spree, venturing into numerous diverse shops to procure nearly every essential item required for Harry's upcoming first year at Hogwarts. His list of acquisitions included school books, which Harry was excited about even though Hagrid was reluctant to allow Harry to purchase any additional books beyond the prescribed texts. "The professors already know what you need, Harry," Hagrid explained, reigning in the young wizard's inquisitiveness. They also picked up stacks of parchment, quills, ink, a sturdy pewter cauldron, and the recomended basic assortment of first year potion ingredients.

One of the most anticipated items on their shopping list was Harry's wand, an integral tool for any young wizard. The wand he selected … or more precisely the wand that selected him was made of holly and contained a phoenix feather core, measuring eleven inches in length. The desire to immediately experiment with his new wand, casting all the spells he'd seen when he flipped through his schoolbooks, was almost overwhelming. However, Hagrid advised he refrain from using his wand or any magic in general until he arrived at Hogwarts, cautioning him about the consequences of uncontrolled magic.

As they continued their shopping excursion, Hagrid eventually suggested, "You could buy your robes now," while gesturing towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, a shop specializing in wizarding attire. With a hint of hesitation, he added, "Listen, Harry, I've got something else I need to take care of. Would it be alright for you to handle your robe fitting on your own? I'll come back to meet you here afterward, should give me just enough time to … finish what I need to get done."

With some anxiety, having travelled with Hagrid all day so far, Harry found himself standing alone in front of the shop's entrance. In an attempt to conceal his nervousness, he braced himself and thrust the door open with more force than he had intended. The abrupt motion resulted in an unexpected consequence, as a sudden, sharp cry of pain pierced the air, making Harry acutely aware that he had pushed the door open far more forcefully than he should have. Before him stood a tall man, his disheveled, dirty-blond hair framing a face twisted with pain and anger. The man held his nose, blood dripping through his fingers, evidently bearing the brunt of the door's assault, just as he was about to exit the clothing store.

Realizing his blunder, Harry's heart sank as he fumbled for words to address the situation. The man, still nursing his nose, glared at him with a burning intensity that radiated anger, as he raised his wand and pointed it at his noise, whispering something under his breath. His voice, laced with fury, cut through the awkward silence. "What do you think you're doing opening doors like that, boy? You little scoundrel!"

"Sorry ...," Harry stammered. "I didn't want that. That was an accident, really ..." Harry was really, really uncomfortable. Uncle Vernon would probably have locked him in the cupboard under the stairs for several days. If not worse.

"Out of the way, boy! You are lucky I am in a hurry, otherwise I'd wait here till your parents picked you up to make sure you were punished," the man continued to scold, before he just stormed out of the shop without turning around again.

Harry let out a deep breath, relieved he was sparred extended confrontation with the man. Gathering his nerves, he peered inside the shop, his curiosity piqued. There, he discovered a girl, approximately his own age, with shoulder-length honey-blonde hair and draped in a black cloak, who was curiously gazing in his direction. Yet, it wasn't her appearance alone that captivated him; it was the charm of her smile that truly held him spellbound. This smile was subtle. The corners of her lips were barely turned upward, and her teeth were only faintly visible, a smile that hinted at someone who might not have had much reason to smile or laugh in the past, but still attempted to make the most of life. It was a smile Harry had come to understand all too well, having acquired it during the trying years he spent with the Dursleys, where happiness and laughter from him was scarcely tolerated. Harry recognized this smile as a defense mechanism, a way to protect oneself from the harshness of life as it did for him.

And yet on this girl, he found this smile to be profoundly beautiful. It spoke volumes about the girl's resilience and inner strength. Moreover, her ice-blue eyes seemed to reflect a suppressed joy, and they radiated a genuine, unvarnished truthfulness that was both rare and captivating. As he gazed at her, Harry felt himself drawn to this enigmatic girl, and he couldn't help but be captivated by her presence. In that moment, he felt a connection with her.

Before Harry had a chance to figure out why the girl had been smiling in the first place, her facial features transformed right before his eyes. The softness in her face hardened, her once-joyful eyes turned distant, and her smile vanished entirely. Swiftly, she averted her gaze from Harry and redirected her attention to an approaching, stout woman cloaked in flamboyant attire, who Harry assumed could only be Madam Malkin, the proprietor of the establishment.

"So, first years bound for Hogwarts, my dears?" inquired Madam Malkin, her voice tinged with a hint of curiosity and a touch of warmth.

"Indeed," Harry replied with an enthusiastic nod and a cheerful tone, eager to engage in a conversation about the upcoming school year.

"Yes," the girl answered, unlike her words were devoid of any discernible emotion. Her response was delivered in a neutral, almost robotic manner. Despite the lack of emotion in her voice, Harry found it to be rather pleasant.

Madam Malkin lead both Harry and the mysterious girl to the rear of her shop, where a second assistant stood ready to assist. Once there, each of them was gently seated on a high stool. As they sat, long, flowing black cloaks were draped over their shoulders. With utmost care, Madam Malkin and her assistant set to work, meticulously measuring and pinning the fabric to achieve the precise fit and length required for their Hogwarts robes. The air was filled with a sense of anticipation for Harry, as the two young students underwent this fitting, with Madam Malkin's expert hands ensuring a perfect fit.

As the final adjustments were made and the last measurements were made, Madam Malkin addressed the two of them, her voice warm and reassuring. "That's it, my dears. We'll have your cloaks ready for you to take with you right away. Please, wait here for just a little while."

With that, Madam Malkin and her assistant withdrew into an adjoining room for the final alterations, leaving Harry and the girl to anticipate the imminent completion of their robes.

An uncomfortable silence settled between Harry and the enigmatic girl who Harry had come to find quite intriguing. It was Harry who eventually decided to break the silence, eager learn more about the girl.

"So, are you also starting your first year at Hogwarts this year?" he asked, his voice carrying a tone of polite curiosity. He couldn't help but notice that the girl had been standing next to him throughout the fitting, her gaze persistently averted, as if trying to remain inconspicuous.

"Yes," she replied, her response curt. However, there was a subtle change in her demeanor as she turned to face Harry, her eyes meeting his for the first time during their interaction. Her once-glistening blue eyes had changed into dull, lifeless orbs, missing the sparkle and vivacity that had initially captivated Harry. It was as if that vibrant glimmer of emotion had never existed.

With the girl showing no inclination to continue or contribute to their conversation, if their previous interaction could be categorized as such, Harry took it upon himself to carry the conversation forward. Eager to bridge the gap and establish a connection, he pressed on.

"Ooo, so we'll be classmates!" Harry exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm. "I can hardly wait for Hogwarts. I've heard so many amazing things about it. I am sorry I never introduced myself. My name's Harry, Harry Potter. And what's your name?" He extended his hand in a friendly gesture.

Harry's eagerness and name appeared to catch the girl off guard, if her expression was any indication. A furrow formed on her forehead, and to Harry, it seemed as though she might be agitated. Her response, however, took him by surprise as she retorted with a venomous tone, "And is that your way of trying to impress me or something?"

Harry was momentarily taken aback by the girl's sudden change in tone, feeling a mix of confusion and a slight pang of hurt. It had never been his intention to impress or offend, merely to extend a hand of friendship and introduce himself.

Harry found himself caught in a whirlwind of confusion, his goodhearted attempt at extending a friendly introduction met with her sharp, unexpected reply. "No ... I just wanted to introduce myself to you. I mean, we're both starting at Hogwarts, and I thought it'd be nice to know each other … I don't know anyone else going yet." He stammered, his words betraying his confusion. Harry was finding himself struggling to comprehend the girl's reaction and was left without further words to mend the situation.

The girl continued to gaze at him with a probing inspection that made Harry feel as if he were lying on an examination table under a microscope. Her eyes seemed to dissect him, probing into his comments and posture as weighing his sincerity and intent. After a tense moment of assessment, the tension in her features started to ebb away, as if she had reached a verdict.

"My name is Drea, Drea Malfoy," she finally revealed.

The name 'Drea' resonated with Harry, and he couldn't help but find it charming, evoking a sense of gentleness and grace. "I'm pleased to meet you, Drea," he responded, offering a sincere smile, hopeful that this might be the start towards a more friendly interaction.

Harry extended his hand in a friendly gesture, reaching out towards Drea. She regarded his outstretched hand with a moment's hesitation, her uncertainty briefly hanging in the air. But eventually, she reciprocated the gesture, completing the handshake with Harry, to his relief.

Harry sought to continue the conversation, probing for common ground. "Are you looking forward to Hogwarts too?" he asked with a warm, inquisitive tone.

"I … am," Drea responded thoughtfully after a brief pause, her voice measured. "It's bound to be an incredibly educational experience, and we'll be spending most of the year there."

Drea paused and extended her arm, pointing towards a shop window, diverting Harry's attention from the follow-up question that had been forming in his mind. "I think the man over there is trying to get your attention."

Harry turned his head in the direction Drea had indicated, and there, outside the window, he spotted Hagrid. A broad grin adorned the giant's face as he held up two sizable waffle cones, each crowned with a scoop of delectable ice cream. He was waving towards Harry, signalling he was unable to enter the shop but was ready for Harry when he finished.

Harry beamed with excitement as he turned back to Drea. "That is Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts," he said with a cheerful tone, proud to be able to share some fact about the wizarding world with someone he just met.

Madam Malkin returned to the room at that moment, bearing two substantial bags in her hands. She presented one to Harry and the other to Drea, signifying the completion of their robes. "There you go, my dears. Your robes are ready," she informed them with a warm smile.

Harry reached into his pouch, ready to settle the bill for his cloaks, when the shop door swung open, admitting a new arrival. A petite, middle-aged woman with honey-blonde hair, who resembled Drea, entered the shop, swathed in an lavish, emerald green robe. Her features, while unquestionably possessing a certain beauty, were marred by an expression of profound disapproval, as if she had a foul odor lingering beneath her nose. Her presence in the shop immediately caused Drea to lose the relaxed expression she had just adopted, and Harry couldn't help but wonder about the nature of their relationship.

"Daughter, have you finished your business here?" The woman inquired with an abrupt and distant tone, devoid of any affection or warmth. Her words struck a chord with Harry, instantly reminding him of how Aunt Petunia used to address him whenever she needed to speak to him while in public.

"Yes, Mother," Drea responded to her with a tone that was void of emotion, carrying an undertone of submission. Once again, the girl's mannerisms brought to Harry's mind a stark similarity to his own interactions with his aunt and uncle. It was that same tone of voice he frequently adopted in his conversations with the Dursleys, a protective shield against any unnecessary scrutiny or conflict.

"Then, come along with me," the woman instructed in a businesslike manner, turning to leave the shop.

As Drea started to follow her mother, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of reluctance to part ways so abruptly. He called out to her, a note of hope in his voice. "Will I get to see you on the Hogwarts Express?"

Drea halted in her tracks, before turning back to face Harry. "Perhaps we'll see each other on the platform if you arrive early," she offered, her response tinged with a hint of hesitancy.

Before Harry could respond, Drea's mother intervened, her tone frigid and unwelcoming. "And who might you be?" she inquired with an icy demeanor, her voice laced with a tangible chill, that almost caused Harry to take a step back.

Harry, attempting to appear unfazed by the woman's frosty reception, began to introduce himself with a courteous tone. "I'm Harry Potter, Ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet …," but his sentence was abruptly cut-off as he observed the woman's already stern expression darken even further. Her barely restrained anger was now easily identifiable, and with an abrupt turn, she averted her gaze from Harry and exited the shop. "Come with me, daughter! Now!" she called out in a raised voice, and Drea, without a single backward glance, obediently followed her mother, leaving Harry behind with a sense of confusion and several unanswered questions.

Finally, after paying for his new robes, Harry exited the shop, stepping out onto the bustling street where Hagrid was already waiting for him. As he glanced down the busy thoroughfare, he spotted Drea, her head slightly bowed, standing beside her mother and another couple of individuals, the very man whom Harry had inadvertently struck with the shop's door earlier and a boy about Harry's age. It occurred to him that the elder man must have been Drea's father, for he had been present in the shop when Harry had first arrived. The entire encounter left Harry with a distinct impression that the Malfoys, or at least the Malfoy parents, did not come across as particularly friendly individuals.

Drea, on the other hand, remained a mystery he was eager to unravel. He felt a genuine curiosity about her based on their interactions and hoped for the opportunity to engage in a better conversation in the future. Their brief exchange had piqued his interest, leaving him with a desire to know more about her.

Harry watched as the Malfoys, Drea included, began to move, soon melting into the throng of people in the busy alley.

Hagrid, noticing the solemn expression that had settled upon Harry's face, extended one of the ice cream cones to him with a reassuring gesture.

"Why so down, Harry?" he inquired, his genuine concern obvious. Harry found his voice kind and comforting.

Harry accepted the ice cream, the delightful blend of peanut-butter and strawberry with crunchy bits of nut, and took a thoughtful lick. As he contemplated the earlier experience swirling in his mind, he replied in a somewhat subdued tone, "Oh, I don't know."

Hagrid leaned in, his gentle presence offering a pleasant sense of comfort. "Was the girl a new friend of yours?" he probed, clearly curious to understand the source of Harry's current mood.

Harry considered the question, his thoughts recalling the brief but memorable encounter with Drea. "Maybe ... I don't know," he admitted, his words tinged with uncertainty. "We only had a short conversation. She said that we might meet on the platform before heading to Hogwarts if I arrive early enough." Harry's voice carried a hint of longing. "I'd like to see her again ... I've never really had any true friends."

Dudley and his gang made sure of that, Harry thought slightly bitterly.

"We're friends now, Harry," Hagrid declared with an infectious grin. "And on that note, its about time we get you a birthday present! How does an owl sound? Owls make exceptional companions, loyal creatures they are. And it's always nice to have your own … Oh, you mentioned the platform, Harry. Don't forget to remind me, and I'll give you your train ticket later, along with an explanation of how to access the platform. But for now, let's go get you your owl!"

Harry smiled at Hagrid, unable to disagree that the giant had indeed become his friend and looking forward to picking out and owning an owl. Nevertheless, he couldn't shake the desire to have friends his own age, ones who could share in the experiences and adventures that lay ahead.

Chapter 2 – Ride Into a New Future

The final month Harry spent with the Dursleys, leading up to his departure for Hogwarts, felt like it would never end. It was as if he had caught a fleeting glimpse of paradise, and now had to deal with the return to his ordinary, unremarkable, and most of all, magic-deprived life. The Dursleys' had chosen to completely ignore him since his return from Diagon Alley which offered some relief, yet it was meager comfort. Harry was however happy that they no longer criticized him or coerced him into completing their menial tasks. Additionally, gone were the days of physical abuse and the despised cupboard where he had been confined, since his earlier memories.

Still, the days leading up to September 1st crept by at a painfully slow pace for Harry. He found some measure of happiness in the company of Hedwig, the splendid snowy owl that Hagrid had gifted him. But even with her presence, Harry spent the majority of his time immersed in his schoolbooks, often reading into the late hours of the night. His imagination ran wild, filled with questions, envisioning a life at Hogwarts where he could hopefully coexist with peers his age, far removed from the Dursleys and the life he so deeply despised.

What kind of magic would he learn at Hogwarts? What sort of people would he encounter and befriend? With these questions, he couldn't help but think about the confusing girl he had met during his visit to Diagon Alley, Drea. Did she share the same anticipation, the same sense of escape from the mundane, as he did at that moment? One thing was certain; he had already made a decision. He would seek her out on the platform. After all, she was the first and only classmates that he had encountered, and he was eager to share the magic of their journey to Hogwarts and possibly get to know her better.

But eventually, the day of his departure for Hogwarts had finally arrived, and Harry was already wide awake long before anyone in the house stirred. As the Dursleys reluctantly roused themselves from their slumber, they embarked on a drive to London not long after they finished breakfast. The train to Hogwarts was scheduled to depart at 11 a.m., but Harry had managed to persuade the Dursleys to drop him off at the station earlier. He insisted on having ample time to find and locate platform 9 ¾, but in reality he was wondering if he would be able to meet up with Drea, as Hagrid had given him precise instructions on how to access the hidden platform.

As soon as Harry stepped through the barrier separating platforms 9 and 10, he was greeted by the magnificent sight of a magnificent red steam train, poised regally on the platform, its polished surfaces gleaming under the brilliant sunlight.

Taking a quick look around the platform, Harry noted that it wasn't very busy, although he supposed that would change closer to the departure time of the train. A few individuals milled about, their actions suggesting they were engaged in the final, crucial stages of preparing the train for boarding.

However, at the far end of the platform, Harry's eyes fell upon a petite figure with familiar honey-blonde hair that he recognized instantly. He instantly got excited. It had to be Drea! But as Harry approached, he stared at her, perched on a sizable trunk, confused. Why was she sitting there all by herself? Where were parents? Harry wasted no time, setting his course towards her, guiding his trolley ahead of him. He passed several others on the platform making his way over to Drea, but Harry paid them no mind, content to simply head over to the girl he had met in Diagon Alley.

As Harry approached Drea, a smile played on his lips, and he greeted her with genuine enthusiasm. "Hello, Drea!"

Drea, who had been sitting there with closed eyes, opened them and straightened up, turning her attention to Harry. However, a fleeting shadow passed over her face, casting a momentary look of uncertainty. "Hello, Mr. Potter. I hope you are well this morning. It is good that you found the platform."

Harry, paused staring at her before he chuckled good-naturedly. "There is no need to be so formal. We already know each other. Just call me Harry."

Drea's expression shifted, a subtle frown creasing her brow as she appeared to ponder the suggestion. After a moment of thought, she nodded in agreement. "I can do that," she responded, after hesitating slightly.

"You've made it here bright and early," Harry began, making an effort to start the conversation. "The train won't depart for what … another hour. And … uh … where are your parents? Are they not here?"

Though Harry asked the question casually, a slight relief had washed over him when he had noticed the absence of Drea's parents. The memories of their prior encounter, particularly with her father, were … less than pleasant. Harry had been left puzzled, by the underlying tension that existed especially regarding the resentment from Drea's mother, for whom he couldn't pinpoint any specific cause as all he had done was offer his name, certainly not anything to warrant the bitterness.

Drea gazed at Harry, appearing to take a moment to process his question before responding with her usual measured words. Her deliberate emphasis on his name brought a smile to Harry's face. "You're early too, Harry," she observed. "And I could ask you the same about being alone. As for me … my parents dropped me off before … attending to something with my brother. So, I'm just here, waiting until it's time to board the train."

"Oh," Harry responded, a tinge of confusion evident in his tone as he wondered why Drea's parents had just dropped her off by herself, knowing that in his case it was cause his family absolutely could not have been convinced to come onto the platform or spend any more time with him. "My relatives just dropped me off here at the station and went on to do things for my cousin."

Noticing Drea's silence and raised eyebrow, Harry continued, feeling the need to fill the silence. "They're Muggles, you know. And they … well they don't think much of all of this," he added, the understatement almost making him laugh.

Curios to get to know her a little better, Harry followed up on his answer with a question. "Is your family all magical, are they all wizards or witches?"

Drea nodded slowly in confirmation. "Yes, both my parents are wizards. And ... so is my brother. As for other relatives … there are only a few … but we don't get to see them."

Harry's interest piqued. "Oh? But then you grew up around magic? That must have been exciting! You must know a lot about it, right?" he asked eagerly.

"I've seen a fair bit of magic, but I haven't tried it myself. Even in magical families, children aren't supposed to do magic," Drea disclosed, seemingly reluctantly.

Harry, attempting to lighten the mood, quipped, "Well, at least you know your way around the world of magic than I do. Other than in Diagon Alley, I've hardly seen any magic, and honestly until Hagrid told me, I didn't even know I was a wizard. You can imagine that was quite a shock. I know next to nothing about my parents or Voldemort or anything magical."

Drea appeared to freeze, regarding him with a look of surprise evident on her face, prompting Harry to question, "What's wrong?"

"It's just ... not many people dare to use his real name when they talk about him, you know, You-Know-Who ... " Drea expressed, her tone holding a mix of disbelief and admiration, which surprised Harry, as if she was intrigued by his boldness.

Harry, feeling the need to clarify, responded, "Oh, I didn't know, don't think I'm trying to be very brave or anything when I use his name. It's just that I never learned you shouldn't. And it's just a name, it seems a little silly to be afraid of a name. Do you get what I mean? I have so much to learn ... I know so little about magic, about everything in this world." Harry gestured broadly to the surroundings. "I bet I'll be the worst in class ... " He looked down at the floor, a tinge of gloom coloring his tone.

After a brief pause, Drea's voice broke the silence. "Get a grip, Harry. We haven't even got to Hogwarts yet, much less start our first classes. I'm sure if you do your best and keep trying you will be ok. While strength and creativity are important, magic is, above all, training and practice. Where you start doesn't really matter."

Harry lifted his head, realizing that Drea was still observing him closely. "Would you … maybe study with me at Hogwarts, Drea, help me catch up?" he inquired, hope tinting his voice.

"We don't even know what houses we will be sorted into, why don't we wait and see which houses we get sorted into at Hogwarts first," Drea suggested after a momentary pause.

Although Harry had delved into some information about the Hogwarts houses, the concept remained somewhat elusive to him, especially as to why it would affect whether they could study together. But before he could seek an explanation from Drea, she started talking, turning his attention to the open train doors.

"The train doors are opening now. We can board the train and grab a seat," she announced, rising from her seat on the suitcase and guiding it toward the closest carriage door. After pausing Harry followed her with a smile on his face, excited at the prospect of the continuing his magical journey.

Lifting their bulky and heavy suitcases onto the train proved a little bit challenging, but working together, Harry and Drea eventually accomplished the task. Now settled in one of the compartments, they found themselves seated across from each other. Harry hadn't explicitly invited Drea to join him, but he was happy when she had joined him in one of the cabins and hadn't objected.

Knowing they still had some time before the train began the journey to Hogwarts, Drea extracted a book from her luggage, revealing it to be their transfiguration textbook. Harry followed suit, retrieving his own book, and soon both were engrossed in their respective readings. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the growing commotion on the platform as the families of their future classmates arrived but he paid only marginal attention to the fact. Even though the train gradually filled up, no one else ventured into their compartment asking to join them. And finally it was time for the train to leave and with a small jolt that reignited Harry's excitement they were off, with London soon fading away behind them.

After half an hour of the soothing and rhythmic clatter of the train, an older woman's cheerful voice disrupted their reading. She pushed open the compartment door, offering a warm smile. "Would either of you like a snack from the trolly, sweeties?"

Harry, having missed a proper breakfast as was usual, eagerly leaped up to make his way to the food cart. Upon arrival, however, he froze, finding himself perplexed; none of the sweets on display seemed familiar to him.

Turning to Drea, he asked, "Hey Drea, which ones do you think I should try?"

Drea glanced up from her book, indifference evident in her expression. "I don't know. I don't really care for sweets."

Undeterred, Harry decided to try a bit of everything, purchasing a wide assortment of treats. Back at his seat, he embarked on a taste-testing adventure, savoring each sweet one by one. He particularly enjoyed the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, finding that he got buttered popcorn, turkey dinner, and strawberry ice cream, and the chocolate frogs, although the fact that they were animated struck him as slightly off-putting. Harry made several attempts to offer Drea some treats, however, it was not until her stomach rumbled, that she relented. To Harry's surprise, her expression immediately transformed upon tasting the treats, revealing that she like every child enjoyed treats, a statement that contradicted her earlier claims.

As the train journey continued northward, while they were enjoying his bounty of sweets, Harry found himself enjoying hid time and continued to pose questions to Drea about her life, magic, and the wizarding world. Drea, while not revealing much about herself, answered almost all of his questions, although with a certain hesitance at times. Harry was a little surprised that she didn't have any questions for Harry, but he didn't mind the lack of interrogation, not knowing exactly what he would have said if asked about his family.

With the passing hours, they enjoyed observing landscapes of forests, rivers, and hills rushing past the train windows before returning back to studying. Immersed in their respective books, Harry found that he was perfectly content in their silent companionship.

However the silence was shattered when the compartment door swung open abruptly, and a girl with bushy brown hair stepped inside, already adorned in her Hogwarts cloak. A boy with a round face stood behind her nervously looking in from the hallway.

"Have either of you seen a toad? Neville here has lost his," declared the girl in a commanding voice, pointing to the boy behind her who seemed content to stay in the hallway.

Looking to Drea who shrugged her shoulders, he looked back to the invading girl. "No, we haven't seen a toad, but we have been in here the entire trip so far," Harry responded, but the girl seemed to have lost interest in the toad's whereabouts and had shifted her attention to the books in his and Drea's hands.

"Oh! You're reading your schoolbooks? I've already memorized all of them. I just hope that's enough … I am the first witch or wizard in my fmily. I am Hermione Granger, by the way, and who are you?" Harry stared in shock as Hermione delivered all of that information without pausing for breath.

Harry glanced at Drea, who let out a slight sigh. "I'm Drea Malfoy."

"Harry Potter," he introduced himself, offering his hand to shake.

"Really?" Hermione exclaimed loudly, staring at his forehead disregarding his offered hand. "Of course, I know everything about you already. I've even read additional books. You're mentioned in a wide host of books, you seem to be the most interesting thing to happen to the wizarding world in some years, well you and Professor Dumbledore. I'd love to meet sometime in a library so you can tell me everything about how you defeated You-Know-Who."

Harry stared at the girl in shock one thought running through his mind. 'How is it even possible to talk so fast or quickly without taking a breath'?

"Well … I don't remember anything," Harry responded cautiously. But despite his reserved tone, a hint of curiosity lingered. "What's in those books, I haven't read them?"

"Well, they go into thorough detail, particularly the events of October 31, 1981," Hermione replied excitedly. "There are entire passages about You-Know-Who killing your parents and then attempting to kill you. His death curse somehow rebounded on him. You survived, and your lightning-shaped scar is the only evidence to the curse. I do not know if you knew it but you're the only person who has ever survived that curse. There is a bunch of speculation but the authors of my books can't explain why that's the case. Truly magical."

Hermione paused as if recalling what she had read, "But for all of the celebrating wizards in the UK and even around the world, the reasons why didn't matter anyway. They were just happy You-Know-Who was gone. Apparently, lots of people in the Ministry of Magic had to work lots of overtime to prevent the international statute of secrecy from being irretrievably broken. A wizard even caused shooting stars over Kent to celebrate, that event was even covered by Muggle news ... "

However, the rest of what she said was lost as Harry wasn't paying attention anymore. A feeling of nauseousness settled over him. "Everyone ... they all celebrated when my parents died?" he asked quietly, more to himself than to those present.

It seemed she either didn't hear him or chose to disregard his comment because Hermione Granger continued speaking loudly. Having moved right on to discussing the Hogwarts houses, expressing her hope to be sorted into Gryffindor because Albus Dumbledore had been in that house when he had been a student at Hogwarts.

Finally, Drea stepped in. "Thank you for your visit, Miss Granger," she said in a sharp tone that betrayed no sense of gratitude. "I believe that is enough information for now. But we would like to enjoy the rest of the trip in quiet. Thank you very much. Good luck with the toad hunt."

Harry nodded his appreciation towards Drea for her intervention. It was clear that she had reached her limit with Hermione, and Harry, too, needed some time to process what he had just heard.

Hermione Granger's mouth open and closed several times without making noise, although she eventually closed her mouth with evident irritation, and exited the compartment. However, once in the hallway she turned over her shoulder and left one last piece of advice, "By the way, you'd better change your clothes; I think we'll be there soon." Then she was finally gone, dragging Neville behind her.

Exhaling in relief at Hermione's departure, Harry noticed Drea appraising him, but she remained silent, and for the present time Harry was perfectly content with that, unsure of what to say.

Harry found himself staring out the window, thoughts swirling through his mind.

Did the magical world truly celebrate on the day of his parents' death? Didn't it matter to them that his family had been murdered that day, leaving him an orphan? Didn't anyone care?

However, he was interrupted in his contemplation when the compartment door swung open again, and three boys stepped inside. The one in the middle, slightly ahead of the others, had a pale face and light blonde hair and looked slightly familiar. The other two, larger, took up positions behind the middle boy, almost like they were guarding him.

"So … it's true what they are saying, isn't it?" he began. "Everyone on the train, they're saying Harry Potter is in this compartment. Is it you?"

"Yes," Harry responded curtly, not liking the boy's tone and still trying to place where he recognized him from.

"This is here is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," the boy started, introduced his two companions. "And my name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

And just like that, everything became clear to Harry as he recalled catching a momentary glimpse of the boy in Diagon Alley, when he turned, standing next to Drea's parents. This must be her brother.

Draco, oblivious to the recognition on Harry's face as he glanced at Drea, snorted and redirected his attention to Harry. "I see you've met my sister. You'll soon find out that some members of certain families are much superior to the rest, Potter. And you don't want to make the mistake of associating with the wrong people, do you? I can help you with that."

He extended his hand, but Harry kept his hand down, shocked at the way Draco treated his own sister. "I believe I can find out quite well who the 'wrong people' are. Thank you very much but I will be alright," he replied without hesitation.

"I'd be more cautious if I were you, Potter," Malfoy retorted angrily. "If you're not a little more polite to the right people, you might just end up like your parents. They were also pretty clueless about what was the right thing to do and look what it got them. If you hang out with riffraff like the blood traitor Malfoy here … well I wouldn't want to be you."

Harry glanced at Drea, but if her brother's words affected her in any way, she didn't show it. She remained seated, her expression utterly impassive, staring at Draco.

"I believe we've had enough of your company now, Draco. Your childish rant didn't impress anyone here. Now, go away," she finally said in an ice-cold voice that sent shivers down Harry's spine.

Her brother was left speechless, his face taking on a vibrant red hue. He seemed about to respond when a voice echoed through the corridor, "Five minutes to Hogsmeade. The train is almost there. Get ready to disembark. If you are not dressed in your robes yet, you better get dressed quickly. Leave all your trunks and other luggage on the train, and it'll be brought to Hogwarts and deposited in your room for you."

Draco who had been staring daggers at his sister finally recovered his voice, "Just wait until our father hears about this." He scowled out before spinning and heading down the hallway, Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

"We should don our cloaks now," Drea suggested to Harry, opening her suitcase, clearly choosing to disregard the earlier confrontation.

Once their cloaks were on, they settled back into their seats for the final minutes of the journey. "Do … do you want to discuss what your brother said?" Harry hesitantly asked his companion.

"No," she responded icily, gazing out the window, not turning to Harry.

Choosing to give her space and not push it at the moment, Harry turned his gaze towards the window, noticing that during their conversations with Draco and Hermione darkness had gradually settled in. As the train pulled into Hogsmeade station, emitting a sharp squeak upon stopping, Harry and Drea stood up, joining the bustling flow of students in the corridor.

Exiting the train into the crisp evening air of autumn onto the narrow platform, Harry stopped recognizing a loud but friendly and familiar voice. "First-years! First-years come over here!" Hagrid's towering figure navigated through the crowd, before changing direction and heading directly toward Harry. "Alright there Harry?"

"Yes! Drea, this is Hagrid. Hagrid, that's Drea," Harry introduced each other with a grin.

"Hello, Drea!" Hagrid said his voice as excited as when he spoke to Harry.

"Pleased to meet you," Drea replied curtly.

Turning, Hagrid's booming voice echoed once more over the crowded students, "Come on, after me now … any more first-years out there? Alright, watch your step! First-years, follow me!"

The group of first-years followed Hagrid to a fleet of small boats, where they were joined by two additional girls. With the exception, the first-years sat four to a boat and used them to traverse the lake on their way to Hogwarts. As Harry laid eyes on the imposing Hogwarts Castle, silhouetted against the moon, its windows aglow in the night with the light of thousands of candles, he decided that for the first time that he could truly remember he was happy and he would never forget this.

Kind Regards,

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