The Hogwarts Express chugged along the British countryside, its carriages filled with the excited chatter and laughter of students returning to Hogwarts. It was the start of another magical year, and inside one of the sliding-door compartments, a very different conversation was taking place.

Draco Malfoy sat beside Pansy Parkinson, his arm nonchalantly draped over her shoulders. The intimate atmosphere between them was clear—Draco's usual sneer softened whenever he looked at her, an unusual vulnerability in his silver-blue eyes.

"Are you going to try for Quidditch captain this year?" Pansy asked, tracing a finger on Draco's pale hand—a sign of their secret entanglement.

He glanced outside at the golden fields rushing by before settling his gaze back on her, "Perhaps. If Father thinks it would be good for... networking," Draco uttered the last word distastefully.