Chapter Text
Art work by yours truly (with background help from Canva)
Draco
The Hogwarts Express thundered north through the countryside, a streak of scarlet through the ambling hills. Hundreds of excited children, noses pressed against glass, watched their old lives fade as they made their way towards a new chapter at Hogwarts.
Inside one compartment, however, excitement was being carefully disguised as nonchalance. The children within had been thoroughly briefed by their parents. They knew exactly what school would be like and the standards expected of them. They understood the decorum they must uphold, and woe betide anyone who brought shame upon their family name.
The compartment itself had formed naturally. No invitations had been exchanged. Certain surnames simply gravitated towards one another. Old families recognised old families. Pansy Parkinson occupied the seat opposite Draco Malfoy, talking almost continuously about ‘the old fool Dumbledore’ and the muggle-loving ways her parents claimed he was apparently running the school. Every so often she would pause her diatribe and glance around to ensure she still held everyone’s attention.
Draco feigned interest when necessary, but mostly listened. Father had always said there was more value in observing people than talking over them. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle laughed at the appropriate moments, though Draco suspected neither of them had been listening particularly closely. They were far too busy cramming various treats from the trolley witch’s cart into their cavernous mouths.
Beside Draco sat one of his closest friends, Theodore Nott, a book on ancient runes balanced on one knee. He looked up at Draco and rolled his hazel eyes at Pansy’s vitriol. Next to Theo, Blaise Zabini lounged against the window, appearing bemused by all of them. Smirking, the bronze-skinned boy, fresh from one of his family’s homes in Tuscany, was about to add to the conversation when the compartment door slid open.
Glancing up, Draco locked eyes with the girl who stood in the doorway, a nervous-looking boy hovering behind her shoulder.
“Have any of you seen a toad?” she asked.
No apology for the interruption. She can’t be a pure-blood.
Pansy looked her up and down. “I think I’m looking at one.”
Crabbe barked out a laugh. Goyle joined in a second later, a spray of crumbs showering them all.
The girl rolled her eyes. “No. A real toad. Neville’s lost one.” She gestured to the pudgy boy behind her, who looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else. The boy glanced at Draco and visibly paled. He must have recognised him. The girl, however, appeared entirely oblivious. She hadn’t so much as blinked since opening the door.
Definitely not a pure-blood.
The laughter died and Theo looked up from his book, blowing a chestnut wave out of his eyes. “Sorry, haven’t seen one.”
“Neither have I,” Blaise shrugged.
Draco shook his head.
“Thank you.” The girl said then she turned primly and continued down the corridor, Neville hurrying after her. The door slid shut.
“Pity nobody lost her instead,” Pansy muttered.
Crabbe and Goyle laughed again, but Draco had already returned his gaze to the window.
For a moment, he found himself wondering which family the girl belonged to. He certainly didn’t recognise her. Then again, Father had never seen much value in introducing Draco to families outside their circle. Her robes were tidy enough, but her hair was a disaster. A thick brown mass that seemed determined to encompass any available space around it. Her front teeth were slightly too large, a bit rabbit-like, Draco mused. Yet she had stood there bold as brass. Most first years were nervous. They fidgeted, stared at the floor and tried not to draw attention to themselves. This girl had walked into a compartment full of strangers and expected answers.
Then the train rounded a bend and the thought drifted away.