The next train departing from Platform Five would leave at 10:42.
Operated by the London and North Eastern Railway, it was bound for York.
The train consisted of ten carriages.
Passengers intending to board were asked to proceed to Platform Five, as the train was now ready for departure.
First-class seating was located in the fifth and tenth carriages.
First-class passengers were encouraged to make use of those compartments.
The announcement crackled through London’s King’s Cross Station, while the destination board flipped over to display the platform number for the York train.
Passengers carrying luggage hurried through the crowd according to the announcement, weaving busily between one another.
Draca watched the people passing around her with open curiosity.
Without warning, a woman in a short wool coat hurried past her.
Although she hadn’t actually bumped into Draca, she immediately began apologizing for nearly disturbing her.
“Ah!
Sorry, sweetheart!” the woman said repeatedly, stopping in her tracks even as her anxious gaze kept darting toward her wristwatch.
“I didn’t bump into you, did I?
Thank goodness.
I’m so sorry for rushing past like that.”
“I’m glad you’re all right.
I have a train to catch!
Sorry, sorry!”
At first glance, the woman looked quite elegant, but in her hurried rush, the luggage bag clutched tightly in both hands pulled her posture forward.
Even the neatly pinned hair by her ears had become slightly disheveled, making her look rather flustered.
“Good.
Have a lovely day, pretty little miss.”
With that, the woman smiled and hurried away before Draca could respond.
Draca remained standing there, bewildered.
She couldn’t understand why Muggles were willing to let themselves look so disheveled in public.
At the same time, their manners surprised her.
Looking around, she found that despite the noise and chaos, there was still a certain degree of order.
It was completely different from the image she’d grown up with, in which Muggles were always aggressive and unruly.
“We should go, Draca,” Lucius said calmly, his bearing cool and reserved.
He reached out and gently drew an arm around his daughter’s shoulders.
“Don’t be afraid.
Your father was just as bewildered back then.”
“Especially before entering the station.
Every time one of those noisy machines started honking, he’d get terribly nervous.”
Narcissa’s eyes held a trace of laughter as she watched her husband flush beneath her gaze.
“Barbaric, vulgar creatures,” Lucius muttered through clenched teeth as he turned his face away.
He avoided his daughter’s curious stare, hiding his embarrassment at Narcissa’s teasing.
Leading his wife and daughter onward, he headed toward a barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten marked with a sign reading:
CONSTRUCTION AREA — KEEP AWAY
The instant they passed through the barrier, Draca saw the sign for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters hanging from the wall.
At either end of the platform, two signs hung beneath Victorian-style brick-red arches.
HOGWARTS EXPRESS
Draca had only just followed her parents through the Muggle station, crossed the barrier, and stepped onto the steam-filled platform when familiar voices called out from not far from the entrance.
“Draca!
Draca!
We’re over here!”
“Keep your voice down.
You’re drawing too much attention.”
“Wait!
Don’t run like that in public!”
“You’re getting louder too, dear Daphne!”
“Pan…
Pansy…
don’t run like that!”
“Hey…
wait for me!”
Pansy and Daphne’s familiar figures soon reached the Malfoys.
Mr.
and Mrs.
Parkinson and Mr.
and Mrs.
Greengrass followed close behind, stepping forward to greet Lucius and Narcissa.
“Mr.
Malfoy.
Mrs.
Malfoy.”
As they exchanged proper greetings, Narcissa glanced across the crowded platform and noticed two tall figures approaching.
Her expression immediately became more guarded.
“Lucius.”
Lucius glanced sideways and saw two large wizards pushing along two boys who were taller than average for their age.
“I’ll handle it.
Stay with Draca,” Lucius said considerately.
He knew his wife had never liked the two former associates from his old circle, sparing her the trouble of dealing with the Crabbe and Goyle families.
“I heard Harry Potter is already here!
Have you seen him?”
While the adults exchanged greetings, Pansy pulled Daphne and Draca aside and asked in a low voice.
“Shouldn’t we find a compartment first?”
“I heard that if all the compartments are taken, we’ll have to sit with everyone else in the regular carriages…”
Daphne looked worriedly at the students eagerly crowding aboard the train as she turned around.
Behind Draca, Pansy, and Daphne, a round-faced boy was tearfully complaining.
“Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.”
“Oh…
Neville…”
At the boy’s words, an elderly witch who nevertheless looked sharp and capable sighed.
Draca’s attention, however, was caught by a figure passing behind the round-faced boy.
It was the rude black-haired boy she’d met in Diagon Alley a few days ago.
After confirming that he was still alone, Draca felt oddly relieved.
Apparently, after leaving the shop, he hadn’t gotten himself into trouble with that reckless giant after all.
“Why do you keep staring at him, Miss Malfoy?”
The young Malfoy heiress was normally cold toward strangers, so her unusual interest in the black-haired boy quickly caught Pansy’s attention.
Even Daphne leaned closer in curiosity.
“Do you know him?”
“I met him at Madam Malkin’s.
He had absolutely no manners.”
“He seems to be…
an orphan.”
Draca shook her head and explained indifferently.
“Ooh!
Don’t tell me it was some kind of fateful encounter!”
“And next comes the school romance between the proud, elegant noble girl and the poor lonely boy with no one to rely on!”
Pansy teased her with a grin.
Draca rolled her eyes.
“I would never lower myself that far.”
“Exactly what I’d expect from the tsundere Miss Malfoy.
You actually think falling in love counts as lowering yourself.”
“Parkinson!”
It was Daphne who interrupted the two of them before their bickering could continue.
“An orphan?
Then isn’t he just like Harry Potter?”
At Daphne’s words, all three girls suddenly widened their eyes and stared at one another in silence.
Then they leaned closer together and began whispering.
“Could it be…?”
“It can’t be that much of a coincidence…”
“Did you see his forehead?
They say he has a scar there.”
“His hair was covering it.
And staring at a boy for that long would be terribly improper.”
“Miss Malfoy, don’t tell me you actually wanted to keep staring—”
“Shut up, Parkinson.”
“Why don’t we just go ask him?”
Their whispered discussion ended with Pansy’s question.
Then she immediately turned and started walking toward the black-haired boy.
They both knew how direct their friend could be, but the instincts drilled into Draca and Daphne as daughters of prestigious families made them call out to stop her at once.
“Pansy!”
Pansy turned around.
“What?”
It really helps the fic grow!