What Happened to Slytherin?

"Wait." Harry did not argue with Hermione.

No sooner had he spoken than a toad flew in through the doorway and landed precisely in front of Harry.

"Look, is this the toad you were looking for?" Harry asked.

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at Harry in disbelief.

Accio was a spell that could only be learned in the fourth year. She had happened to notice that yesterday while reading for leisure.

"That's incredible!" Ron immediately sat up straight and exclaimed sincerely, "Buddy, you really are the boy who defeated the Dark Lord!"

Hermione, who had been conflicted just moments ago, suddenly felt relieved. Right, after all, he was the Savior.

"I'll return the toad to Neville first. He's been frantic looking for it." Hermione picked up the toad and said to Harry, "Thank you, Harry. I'll come back after I take the toad to his compartment. I still have lots of spells I want to ask you about..."

With that, without waiting for Harry's reply, Hermione carried the toad out of the compartment.

"She's terrifying, isn't she?" Ron looked at the doorway with lingering fear. He did not know why, but whenever he saw Hermione, he always felt as though he could not hold his head up.

Harry spread his hands. Back when he had pestered Sebastian to teach him dueling, he had been far more annoying than Hermione.

"No matter which house I'm sorted into, I hope I'm not sorted with her." Ron kept talking. "God, she reminds me of Percy, except she's even more... you know."

He tossed his wand into his trunk and said without looking up, "That spell doesn't work. It's another one of George's pranks—once you get to school, you have to watch out for those two. Never believe anything they say, and definitely don't eat anything they give you. Really, if you don't believe me, you'll regret it."

Harry nodded knowingly. Even their innocent, adorable younger brother was fair game for them—those Twins probably had an unusually twisted sense of humor.

"Which house are they in?" Harry asked, already thinking that it was most likely Gryffindor.

Sure enough, Ron answered, "Gryffindor. Father and Mother were both in that house, and all five of my older brothers were Gryffindors too. If I don't get into Gryffindor, I don't know what they'll say about me—I don't think Ravenclaw would be bad either, but whatever happens, don't sort me into Slytherin—"

"Why?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Because everyone in Slytherin is a Dark Wizard," Ron answered as if it were only natural.

Harry raised an eyebrow. Although Slytherin students did not particularly mind studying the Dark Arts, that was still rather a sweeping judgment.

Had the divide between the houses grown this deep after a hundred years?

"Why do you say that?" Harry asked. Perhaps something had changed over the past century?

"Because the Dark Lord came from Slytherin, and after him, almost every Slytherin became his follower." Ron muttered, "You know what kind of person the Dark Lord was. How could anyone who followed him be a good person? They were all Dark Wizards who disregarded life."

Harry sighed.

Fuck, how had Slytherin ended up like this?!

"Oh, I'm back." Hermione's voice came from outside the door. "I looked everywhere and couldn't find Neville, so I shut the toad in and left it on his table. What were you talking about?"

"Houses," Ron said with a forced smile.

Noticing Ron's reluctance, Hermione asked with concern, "What's wrong? Are you all right?"

"I was just thinking about what would happen if I don't get sorted into Gryffindor." Ron propped his chin in both hands. "Fred told me that new students have to pass an entrance trial before they can be sorted into their houses. In their year, they had to face a troll in groups of ten."

"Didn't you say," Harry spotted the flaw, "that you shouldn't believe anything those two say?"

"That's true, but I asked Father, and Father said the same thing," Ron's little face grew even more miserable. "But he said his year had it easier. They only had to deal with Acromantulas in groups of five. Still, one unlucky person got bitten by a spider and stayed in the Hospital Wing for a month before waking up..."

At that moment, an arrogant voice came from the doorway.

"So they were telling the truth. Harry Potter is on this train?"

The three of them looked toward the door. A thin boy stood there, his pale blond hair slicked back with wax, looking as though he were forcing himself to appear mature.

Pale blond hair, gray eyes, and that arrogance—Harry confirmed the other boy's identity.

Another Malfoy!

Two other boys stood beside him, one tall and fat, the other short and fat. Neither was much to look at, and they were clearly lackeys.

"This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle." This Malfoy began introducing his lackeys. "My name is Draco. Draco Malfoy..."

Ron gave a small cough to keep himself from laughing.

"You think my name is funny, do you?" Draco narrowed his eyes at Ron. "I don't need to ask who you are. Red hair, shabby clothes—you must be a Weasley. My father told me the Weasley family has so many children they can't afford to raise them."

Then he turned to Harry. "You'll soon find that some wizarding families are far better than others. Unlike certain families, Potter, you wouldn't want to make friends with the wrong sort, would you? I can help you with that."

He held out his hand, intending to shake Harry's.

Harry felt that he had a fairly good temper, but this Malfoy still managed to anger him.

Seeing that smug, pompous look on his face always made Harry think of Cassandra.

But Cassandra had excellent manners. She would never mock someone else's family, much less casually launch personal attacks at others.

This young Mr. Malfoy... had dreadful manners and no upbringing at all.

"I think you should apologize," Harry said coldly. "At the very least, a child from a well-bred family would not casually pass judgment on someone else's family."

"I think Harry is right." Hermione stood up and firmly took Harry and Ron's side.

Ron's eyes reddened. He had not expected these two classmates he had only just met to defend him so fiercely.

"And who are you?" Draco asked Hermione with a frown.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione answered with her head held high.

Hearing Hermione's answer, Draco wore a disdainful expression.

"So you're a little Mudblood. You stinking—"

"Shut up!" Ron shot to his feet, pointing his wand at Draco. "How dare you—how dare you say that word!"

Draco glanced back at his two lackeys, a smugly nasty look on his face. "Ohoho, standing up for your little girlfriend, are you, Weasley? Are you sure you can bear the consequences of casting a spell on me? My Father is a school board member. With a single word, he can have your Father fired. Think about it—your family can barely afford to raise all those children. What would you do if your Father lost his job?"

Yet his only answer was a single incantation.

"Leviosa!"

A yellow flash struck Draco. He drifted slowly up into the air, knocking his head against the doorframe.

The one who had cast the spell was neither Ron nor Hermione.

It was Harry.