“You think it’s funny that a girl has a name normally given only to boys, don’t you?”
Draca stared coldly at the red-haired boy, making no attempt to hide the chill of anger in her voice.
Her name followed the Black family’s naming tradition on her mother’s side, which used celestial bodies and constellations.
Ever since she was little, the name Draco had caused her endless frustration.
Draco, the constellation of the Dragon, was an unusual Latin word in that it existed only in the masculine grammatical form.
For reasons Draca had never understood, Lucius and Narcissa had given their beloved daughter a male name.
It had always confused her, and among the children of other prominent families her age, it had become the subject of more than a few jokes.
Of course, those people only dared make such jokes behind her back.
She had asked her mother about the reason for the name again and again, but every time, Narcissa’s expression would darken for a moment and she would say very little.
Only as Draca grew older, and after Severus comforted her about it, did she gradually learn to accept the name.
Eventually, she even began to take pride in it.
After all, Draco was one of the few constellations in the northern sky that never set.
Besides, who said a girl couldn’t be a dragon?
And so, faced with the red-haired boy laughing at her name, Draca’s temper flared almost instantly.
“Stop cowering like that.”
The red-haired boy seemed to shrink back after angering her, which only made Draca more irritated.
“I’ll ask you again.
Do you think my name is funny?”
Under her icy questioning, the red-haired boy finally nodded.
Draca’s lips curled in disdain.
“I don’t even need to ask who you are.
Bright red hair, vulgar manners, secondhand robes.”
“You’re a Weasley, aren’t you?
That fallen family that would rather lower itself than show any respect for magic.”
Draca was satisfied to see the red-haired boy’s freckled face turn crimson at her words.
What she failed to notice was that Harry’s face had also begun to fill with anger.
“Like I told you in the robe shop, you should already have realized something, Harry Potter.”
“Some wizarding families are much better suited to guiding you into the magical world.”
“You wouldn’t want to make friends with the wrong sort, and that’s something I’d be quite willing to help you with.”
As she spoke, Draca kept her gaze fixed on the red-haired boy.
He was clearly furious, but equally clearly didn’t dare offend her.
Only after Draca finished speaking and extended a hand toward Harry did she finally notice that he had already risen to his feet.
His thin but sharply defined face was full of resistance.
“I think I can tell for myself who the wrong sort are, thanks.”
Harry spoke angrily.
His hands remained at his sides the entire time, showing no intention whatsoever of taking the hand Draca had left suspended in the air.
The red-haired boy seemed to be suppressing a laugh.
Draca’s mind went completely blank.
What had that rude, ignorant idiot just said?
Her chest rose and fell slightly faster, and she hurriedly reached for the folding fan at her waist, gripping it tightly.
A faint crack came from the cedar handle.
Draca blinked rapidly and bit her lower lip.
Only after struggling for a moment did she finally force the words out.
“If I were you, I’d be more careful, Potter.”
She deliberately slowed her speech, afraid that if she didn’t, she would lose control of her anger and embarrass herself in front of everyone.
“I’m sorry about what happened to your parents.
But that only means you need to be even more cautious.”
“If you insist on spending all your time with a gamekeeper or a family like the Weasleys…”
“What do you think your parents would think if they knew?”
Draca tried to speak calmly, expressing what she genuinely believed.
After all, if the child of a prominent family were discovered to be close friends with Hogwarts’ gamekeeper, it would probably become enough of a scandal to send several Howlers straight to the Headmaster.
And besides, Harry was an orphan who knew nothing about the magical world.
How could someone like him be left in the care of a Weasley family that willingly sympathized with Muggles?
“You can try insulting my family again.”
The red-haired boy stood as well, speaking fiercely.
Draca didn’t care about him in the slightest.
What made her frown deeply was the way Harry folded his arms too, clearly taking the redhead’s side.
“You wouldn’t seriously start a fight on the Express, would you, Weasley?
You really do have no manners at all.”
Draca narrowed her eyes and spoke with disdain.
Harry’s voice immediately rose in response.
“Unless you leave this compartment right now, Malfoy.”
Harry stepped in front of Ron, and Draca could clearly see both of his fists clench.
A thought flashed through her mind.
Perhaps Harry Potter wasn’t merely an orphan of the wizarding world.
Worse, maybe he’d been raised by Muggles.
That would explain why he was so rude and uncivilized.
And why he had been so easily drawn to the Weasleys.
Draca bit her lip again in frustration.
The handle of her folding fan gave another faint crack.
“Miss Malfoy…”
Only when Goyle spoke behind her in warning did Draca finally come back to herself.
She glanced around from the corner of her eye.
Outside the compartment, the gathered students were already whispering excitedly among themselves.
It seemed certain that her argument with Harry Potter would spread throughout the entire Express.
Becoming the center of gossip like this before she’d even formally arrived at school left Draca annoyed with herself.
She stamped her foot lightly, then glared fiercely at Harry, completely ignoring the Weasley boy. Get faster updates on g.com.
“You were the one who said we’d meet at Hogwarts, weren’t you, Potter?”
“I didn’t know you were this arrogant, Malfoy.”
Even in their final exchange, Harry refused to yield.
His complete lack of gentlemanly conduct only made Draca angrier.
“Fine.
I’ll make you regret the choice you made today.”
She turned and walked away.
But the frustration in her chest refused to settle.
Under Crabbe and Goyle’s wide-eyed stares, both of them shocked beyond words, Draca uttered the first insult of her life.
“Idiot Potter.”
“Draca?”
“Why are you this angry?”
When she returned to the compartment in a foul mood, Daphne and Pansy immediately came over in concern.
Draca merely shook her head, as though trying to throw both the unpleasant encounter and all the whispers about “Miss Malfoy trying to approach Potter and getting rejected” out of her mind.
Without saying a word, she dropped into the plush seat and stared out at the darkening scenery beyond the window.
“Is Harry Potter…
unpleasant?”
“Don’t tell me he’s one of those idiots who thinks he’s amazing.”
Daphne asked timidly, while Pansy began speculating aloud.
Draca forced a smile for the two concerned girls and lightly rubbed between her brows.
They both understood their friend’s temperament well enough not to press her.
Instead, they simply stayed with Draca and chatted about ordinary things.
Eventually, darkness fell.
When distant lights slowly appeared beyond the blackened window, Daphne suddenly spoke in alarm.
“We’re almost there!
Shouldn’t we hurry and put on our robes?”
The three girls immediately stood and took their robes down from the luggage rack.
As Draca endured Madam Malkin’s somewhat coarse workmanship, she looked down at the folding fan lying on the seat.
She had squeezed it hard enough to leave visible creases.
At last, she couldn’t help muttering again.
“Just you remember this, you arrogant, rude idiot.”
In the reflection of the train window, Draca’s sharply arched brows were drawn together in anger.
She didn’t notice that this was already the second time that day she had resorted to an insult.
Outside, the lights of Hogsmeade Station flickered past.
In the distance, faintly visible atop the mountains, stood a castle crowded with towers.
Hogwarts was just ahead.
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