Boarding the Boat

The train slowed gradually, and a voice over the loudspeaker reminded them that they were about to arrive at Hogsmeade Station.

Just then, the compartment door was yanked open with a swoosh, and a girl with bushy brown hair and large front teeth poked her head in, her words tumbling out like popping beans: "You'd better change into your robes quickly—I just asked the driver, and we're almost there! Has anyone seen Neville's toad?"

Her gaze swept swiftly across the compartment, landing on Harry and Ron's still-unworn clothes, then flicking to Skofot, who was already dressed in a secondhand black robe, sitting quietly by the window.

Then her eyes fixed on Harry's face—more precisely, on the battered glasses taped together on his nose.

"Oh, what happened to your glasses?" Without waiting for an answer, she pulled out her wand, pointed it at them, and said clearly, "Oculus Reparo!"

A faint light flashed, the tape on Harry's glasses vanished, and the frames were restored to perfect condition.

Harry blinked in surprise and murmured, "Thanks..."

"You're welcome." With that, the girl swept out like a gust of wind to knock on the next compartment door.

"Who's she?" Ron asked, a bit dazed.

"Hermione Granger," Harry replied, scrambling with Ron to dig out their robes.

Skofot, having been wearing the secondhand black robe Professor McGonagall bought him all along, had no need to change and simply watched them quietly.

The train finally came to a stop.

Students surged like a tide toward the doors.

Skofot followed behind Harry and Ron, stepping off the train with the crowd.

The night air was crisp, the noise of voices overwhelming, and in the distance came the gruff shout of the gamekeeper: "First-years! This way!"

Amid the jostling crowd, Skofot spotted a small, barely noticeable bump—perhaps a loose cobblestone—and "just right" tripped over it, his body instantly losing balance and pitching forward.

"Ah!" He let out a short, startled cry.

Just as he was about to fall, a strong hand caught his arm in time, steadying him.

Skofot looked up, still shaken, and met Hermione Granger's face, marked with concern and a hint of reproach.

"Watch out! It's dangerous to fall in such a crowd!" Hermione's tone carried her characteristic earnestness.

Skofot used her support to straighten up, the effect of the [Rabbit Rhymer] card making his eyes redden quickly, filling with physiological tears—a sense of fragility—that glistened under the station lights.

He tilted his face up, showing Hermione a sweet smile mixed with gratitude, shyness, and dependence, his voice soft and sticky: "Thank you, Miss Granger. You're so kind."

[Emotion Points +25]

[Emotion Points: 400/100]

Hermione, clearly unaccustomed to such direct thanks laced with fragile dependence, froze for a moment.

She looked at the boy's pale face, where the strikingly sincere, tear-bright smile stood out—the Affinity Buff stacking—and her cheeks flushed slightly, her usual know-it-all demeanor momentarily thrown off.

"It's—it's nothing!" She let go of his arm, her tone unconsciously taking on an urgent, caretaking edge. "Stay close—we're heading to the boats! Don't fall again!"

She even instinctively reached out to hover a hand near Skofot's arm, gesturing for him to follow, and then, almost half-leading him, she hurriedly guided this "new classmate in need of extra care" toward the small boats by the lake, momentarily forgetting Harry and Ron, who were still blinking in confusion behind.

Skofot obediently followed Hermione, and from the angle she couldn't see, the watery gleam and sweet smile in his eyes quickly faded, leaving only calm calculation.

The lake was shrouded in night, the pitch-black water rippling faintly. First-years boarded the small boats, each one automatically carrying three or four people.

Skofot deliberately slowed his pace, avoiding the boat with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and scanned the bobbing heads until he quickly spotted a boat that was mostly empty.

He slipped in silently, shrinking into the shadowiest corner of the bow, nearly merging with the darkness.

Before long, a haughty, platinum-haired little boy approached with two much larger sidekicks in tow.

"This one looks clean enough."

Draco Malfoy said in his characteristic, drawling tone, stepping onto the boat first, with Crabbe and Goyle clumsily following, causing the boat to lurch sharply.

Malfoy didn't initially notice Skofot in the shadows.

He was busy straightening his brand-new robes, his gaze critically sweeping over the other first-years, especially toward where Potter was in the distance, his face carrying undisguised assessment and a hint of contempt.

The boat drifted slowly away from the shore, heading toward the silhouette of the grand castle on the opposite side of the lake.

As the boat moved, the lights from the castle windows grew closer, gradually illuminating the interior.

Malfoy seemed to finally sense something off. He frowned, scanned the boat, and then his eyes landed on the figure nearly hidden in the darkness at the bow.

He froze for a moment.

That boy was very small and thin, curled up there, wearing clearly secondhand old robes, head bowed, showing only a soft black crown of hair and a sliver of pale chin. He seemed to be trying hard to minimize his presence, but this deliberate concealment, under the gradually brightening light, instead exuded a strange, eye-catching fragility.

The "fragility" and "affinity" of the [Rabbit Rhymer] card intertwined and took effect at this moment.

Malfoy's prepared challenge to the "uninvited" stranger on the boat got stuck in his throat.

He watched that figure, a strange feeling inexplicably rising in his heart.

—Not the usual disgust toward Mudbloods or poor wizards, nor the confrontational hostility toward Potter, but rather a...

A mix of curiosity and an indescribable urge to draw closer.

This feeling came abruptly, even leaving him somewhat bewildered.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain his usual tone, but the voice that came out was unconsciously softer than usual:

"You... who are you? How did you get on this boat?"

Only then did Skofot seem to startle slightly, lifting his head to reveal a small, delicate face that looked even paler under the dim light.

His eyes squinted slightly from the change in light, carrying a hint of confusion and watery sheen (the effect of fragility), and he answered softly: "Skofot Leoqi."

His voice was very light, with a barely perceptible tremor, like a feather brushing gently past.

"Draco? Malfoy."

Malfoy looked at him like this, and the slight displeasure from being "disturbed" completely dissipated, replaced by an increasingly intense possessiveness—a desire to take this person or thing under his wing.

—This was very much in line with the Malfoy heir's way of thinking, though the target and method were somewhat unexpected.

He didn't press further about family background or bloodline.

—That was almost unthinkable under normal circumstances.

Instead, he shifted his position toward the bow of the boat, moving closer to Skofot, and then, under the bewildered gazes of Crabbe and Goyle, he did something that even he might find surprising later.

He reached out, not exactly gentle but with a natural air of authority, and draped his arm around Skofot's thin shoulders, pulling him closer, drawing him out of the darkest corner.

"Why sit so far to the side? One rock of the boat and you'd fall in."

Malfoy's tone carried his usual condescending concern, but his actions exuded an undeniable forcefulness. "Stay close to me and sit steady."

Skofot's body stiffened slightly, as if unused to this sudden contact, but he didn't resist.

He simply complied with Malfoy's pull, moving toward the middle, and murmured softly in response: "...Mm."

[Emotion Points +15]

[Emotion Points: 415/100]

Malfoy felt the bony shoulder blades beneath the fabric under his palm, looked at the boy's lowered head and unusually docile nape, and a strange sense of satisfaction welled up inside him.

He completely forgot his original intention to find trouble with Potter, and ignored the confused looks exchanged by the two lackeys behind him.

The small boat glided steadily toward the castle, the lake's surface reflecting the stars, the moon, and the castle's lights.

On one boat, two boys with different thoughts leaned together in an unexpected way.