“I was told that James Potter Jr., the Boy-Who-Lived, was in this carriage,” the newcomer announced imperiously.
“Is it true?”
“He is,” Harry replied, mildly amused.
“And you are?”
“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy, of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy.”
Jim and Ron both sniggered at the boy’s pompous tone, but Draco’s glare fixed solely on Ron.
“I can tell what family you belong to. Red hair, freckles, hand-me-down robes. Undoubtedly a Weasley,” he sneered.
Both Ron and Jim flushed with anger.
Harry’s eyes narrowed.
He recognized the Malfoy name and was surprised by how openly rude the heir of such an influential House was being—especially with insults so oddly specific for someone he had just met.
Ignoring Ron, Draco turned back toward the more presentable-looking of the two similar boys.
“So, are you James Potter?” he asked, clearly hoping it wasn’t the one with the chocolate stain on his shirt.
Harry shook his head and pointed at Jim, who had already risen and stepped threateningly close.
The two burly boys in the corridor tensed, ready for trouble.
“I’m Jim Potter,” he growled.
“What’s it to you?”
Draco raised his hands in a placating gesture.
“Potter, please. I apologize if I gave offense. But you’re a national hero and the Heir of an Ancient and Noble House. You’ll need help finding the right sort of friends. I can steer you away from the wrong crowd.” His posture made it perfectly clear who he considered the wrong crowd.
“I can find the right sort of friends without your help, Death Eater,” Jim snarled.
Draco’s eyes narrowed.
Harry watched the exchange with detached interest, wishing he had brought popcorn.
“Obviously I can’t be a Death Eater—I’m eleven,” Draco said coldly.
“And if you’re referring to my father, the Wizengamot found him innocent. You should be more careful with your accusations, Potter, unless you’d like to be sued for slander.”
“Oh, come off it, Malfoy!” Ron spat.
“Your family is as Slytherin as they come, and every dark wizard in history was a slimy Slytherin—from You-Know-Who to Grindelwald all the way back to Salazar Slytherin himself.”
“That’s complete nonsense,” Get faster updates on g.com.
Harry interrupted irritably.
“No one even knows which House You-Know-Who was in—or if he attended Hogwarts at all. Grindelwald definitely went to Durmstrang. Yes, most convicted Death Eaters were Slytherins, but there were others. Barty Crouch Jr. was a Ravenclaw. Sirius Black, one of You-Know-Who’s lieutenants, was a Gryffindor. And the worst Dark wizard to ever attend Hogwarts was Emeric the Evil in the fourteenth century. He claimed his Gryffindor bravery gave him the courage to ignore all ordinary standards of decency and morality.”
The other boys stared at Harry as if he had sprouted a second head.
“Blimey, you know a lot about dark wizards,” Ron muttered.
Harry shrugged.
“It was all in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. I bought it to read about Jim and You-Know-Who, but it covered every major British dark wizard since the founding of Hogwarts. Most were Slytherins, true, but Gryffindor and Ravenclaw have produced plenty as well. Even Hufflepuff has one in the last five centuries.”
Draco studied him with open confusion.
“Who are you? Since when does the Boy-Who-Lived have a twin brother?”
Harry stood and met Draco’s gaze evenly.
“Since birth, obviously. And you were mistaken earlier. I am Harry Potter, Heir Presumptive to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter.” His voice remained calm but carried an edge.
“While I won’t be as blunt as my brother, I will say this, Mr. Malfoy: you’ve made a poor first impression. It would be best if you left before things become… unpleasant.”
Draco held his stare for a long moment, then gave a curt nod.
“So be it.” He swept out of the compartment, his two companions trailing behind.
Jim turned to Harry with a wide grin.
“That was brilliant, Har! ‘Before things become… unpleasant.’ Wicked. I bet if you talked to those Muggles like that, they wouldn’t give you any trouble at all.”
Harry’s head snapped toward his brother so fast it was a wonder he didn’t get whiplash.
Ron started to ask what Jim meant by “Muggles,” but his voice seemed distant.
Jim suddenly looked uncomfortable, glancing between them.
“It’s nothing, Ron. Forget I said anything.” He forced a smile.
“Hey, Har? Want to learn how to play Exploding Snap?”
Harry studied his twin as though examining an insect.
The question wasn’t really about Exploding Snap.
It was about whether he wanted to spend the next seven years forcing smiles when he would rather snarl or scream.
“Actually, right now I’d like to find the loo,” he said brightly.
“This train does have one for a six-hour journey, right?”
“Yeah, we passed them earlier,” Jim replied.
“Just head in the direction those mini-Death Eaters went.”
“Thanks, Jim.” Harry stepped out and closed the door behind him.
He walked a few paces down the corridor, then paused.
On impulse, he crept back and listened.
“No offense, mate, but your brother’s a bit weird,” Ron said.
“I know. When he was a baby Mum and Dad thought he was a squib, so they sent him to live with Muggle relatives. Apparently they were pretty awful to him and he blames our parents. He’s being a right baby about it, but Mum says I have to stay close until he gets over it. Whatever.”
Harry exhaled very slowly.
Then he turned and walked quickly down the corridor into the next car.
Malfoy and his unnamed companions were just ahead.
“Mr. Malfoy!” he called.
Draco stopped and turned, surprised.
“What do you want, Potter? I thought you’d made your position clear.”
“I did. And to be fair, you did make a poor first impression.” Harry offered a small, measured smile.
“Fortunately, I don’t judge people solely on first impressions. While I can decide for myself who the ‘right sort’ are, I won’t let my father and brother’s biases influence me. I don’t know yet where I’ll be Sorted, but I hope you and I can at least maintain a civil relationship regardless. We are, after all, the future of our respective families.”
“I find it unlikely there can ever be an amiable association between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor,” Draco replied coolly.
“Then we’re in luck, Malfoy. Because I think it’s highly unlikely either of us will end up in Gryffindor.” Harry extended his hand.
After a brief hesitation, Draco took it.
Seven hours later, the Sorting Hat whispered into Harry Potter’s ear.
“Oh good. I was afraid you were going to be difficult about this.”
Then, in a booming voice that echoed through the Great Hall, it declared:
“SLYTHERIN!”