The Confrontation

Yulian recognized her as Elizabeth Rosier, whom he'd met while buying his wand.

Today she wore a dark green velvet dress that made her skin look even fairer. The silver snake-shaped brooch on her chest gleamed.

She seemed surprised to see Yulian, too. Raising an eyebrow, she curled her lips into a faintly mocking smile. "Well, well. If it isn't Mr. Black, the one the wand rejected. Looks like your wand hasn't blown you up yet."

"What a coincidence, Miss Rosier," Yulian said with a smile. "How did a young lady like you learn to sneak around?"

Rosier gave a soft snort and slipped her suitcase beneath the seat. She was just about to introduce herself when she suddenly noticed Lyria across from her.

Lyria seemed to react strongly. She sprang to her feet, not even noticing when her cloak slipped off. Her eyes blazed with barely restrained fury, and her voice trembled with emotion. "Rosier! You're from House Rosier?!"

Rosier stared at her. "You know me?"

"I don't know you, but I know your family's infamous reputation!" Lyria's voice rose sharply, as biting as a cold Northlands wind.

"Murderers! Thieves! House Rosier has the blood of innocents on its hands! My grandmother... she died because of your family's curse!"

The air in the compartment seemed to freeze in an instant.

Rosier's face went from pale to green, then red. She had grown up steeped in the superiority of being Pure-blood. When had anyone ever dared to insult her to her face?

She sprang to her feet, her wand already in her hand, its tip aimed straight at Lyria. "What nonsense are you talking about? I've never seen you before, and I don't know anything about a curse! I can tell what you are—you Northlands savages are always using dark magic to sneak up on people!"

"Dark magic?" Lyria sneered. She slowly raised her hands, a dim blue light of frost gathering in her palms. "Then I'll show you the true Northern Power!"

As the two looked ready to fight, Yulian hurried forward and stood between them. "Both of you, stop! This is the Hogwarts Express, not a dueling ground!"

Before he could finish speaking, the train lurched and began to move.

The platform outside the window started to recede, and the Weasley family gradually blurred into the distance. Yulian could just make out the smallest red-haired girl running alongside the tracks and waving.

In a compartment near the front of the train.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were sharing a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, enjoying a cheerful conversation. Harry was delighted to have apparently made a friend as soon as he'd boarded.

Suddenly, the compartment door was shoved open.

"I heard Harry Potter was on the Hogwarts Express. Looks like it's true." A slick-haired, platinum-blond boy stood in the doorway, with Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind him. His face wore its usual arrogant smile.

Harry recognized him as the arrogant boy from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. He'd also insulted Hagrid.

"My name's Draco Malfoy," the boy drawled in an odd, affected voice. "This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle. You should know that some wizards are born better than others."

As Malfoy spoke, he glanced at Ron's red hair. "You'd better not mix with the wrong sort, like that disgrace to wizardkind who has so many children he can't afford to feed them."

With that, Malfoy held out his right hand to Harry Potter.

Malfoy's words made Ron's face flush bright red. He was about to step forward when Harry stopped him, then slapped Malfoy's hand away. "I may have a very different idea of how to choose my friends."

Now it was Malfoy's turn to flush. Crabbe and Goyle immediately stepped forward, waiting for Malfoy to give the word. They were ready to teach Harry Potter a lesson for not knowing his place. A fight seemed moments away.

In a corner of the train, the ticket inspector with the missing finger stood at the junction between carriages, his eyes fixed on the black-clad man about to enter the corridor.

"I don't care who you are or what you're looking for. But remember, this is the Hogwarts Express. Either go to Azkaban or jump off now."

Cassian Thorne didn't want to fight on the train. There were a great many students behind him, and even the older ones seemed like fledglings who'd never seen the world.

"I don't want any trouble. I just want to find the young lady from my family, to... protect her." The black-clad man spoke with a distinct German accent.

"I think I've made myself clear. The Hogwarts Express is part of Hogwarts, and it's perfectly safe here—except for you. If you don't want trouble, get off the train!"

Under ordinary circumstances, Cassian, an expert operative with the Ministry of Magic's Department of Mysteries, was confident he could find a hundred ways to drive the man off—or force him to Apparate away. Unfortunately, Apparition was forbidden aboard the Hogwarts Express.

"I need to take the young lady away. She belongs at Durmstrang." The man stepped forward.

"I don't know which young lady you mean, but everyone knows Hogwarts train tickets are tied to Hogwarts acceptance letters. That means your young lady has been accepted to Hogwarts. If you have any questions, contact Dumbledore."

The man said nothing more. He merely slipped his right hand into his sleeve.

Facing the towering Crabbe and Goyle, Harry and Ron were secretly nervous, but neither of them backed down.

With years of experience dealing with Dudley, Harry was trying to decide whether to strike first or dodge the big oaf in front of him and go for a good old-fashioned groin punch.

At that critical moment, the compartment door opened again.

"Have you seen a toad? Neville's lost his toad!" A girl with bushy brown hair stood in the doorway, her brows furrowed. She sounded anxious and impatient.

"Um, what are you doing? You're not allowed to fight on the train!" Hermione only then realized what was going on inside the compartment.

Malfoy looked at her, then glanced at the pudgy Neville, who was cowering behind the girl. He scoffed. "Crabbe, Goyle. Look at this. Anyone can get on the Hogwarts Express these days. Hogwarts has turned into a refuge for trash, Squibs, idiots, and Mud..."

Malfoy managed to stop himself before he finished the last word. "I'll write to my father. I'll tell him Hogwarts needs cleaning up."

By now, the girl had opened the compartment door, and several young wizards from nearby compartments had heard the commotion and gathered in the doorway.

"What's going on? What's going on?" A red-haired older boy pushed through. "I'm a Prefect! Everyone disperse and go back to your compartments. No trouble, or I'll report you to Professor McGonagall."

Seeing that there were too many people around, Malfoy glared at the three of them before leaving with his followers, disgruntled.

Only then did the brown-haired girl relax. She stepped into the compartment and said quietly, "Thank goodness. You could get expelled for fighting at a time like this, couldn't you?"

Ron scratched his head and muttered, "If you hadn't come, I'd have smashed Goyle's nose in."

Seeing that, Harry hurried to stop Ron. "Thanks. I'm Harry Potter. Who are you?"

"Oh, Harry Potter! I know who you are! I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Neville Longbottom. I bought and read every book about you... Do you really have that scar?" The girl spoke at machine-gun speed.

Neville couldn't get a word in, but he stared at Harry with an envious, astonished look. The two of them seemed to have completely forgotten about finding the toad.