Making Friends

Draco naturally stayed in the compartment. "School is finally starting," he complained. "You have no idea how bored I've been at home!"

"Quidditch is fun, of course. You know, I'm really good on a broom... I once dodged a Muggle helicopter while riding one!"

The little peacock was trying to show off without making it obvious.

Unfortunately, from Allen's perspective, the spoiled young master was terrible at disguising it.

He took a pile of treats from the snack section of the Suitcase: chocolate truffles, macarons, Sherbet Lemon sweets, cranberry cookies...

They were all neatly tucked into exquisite boxes.

The little peacock's voice gradually faded as he eyed the unfamiliar food with curiosity.

Allen chuckled. "Sweets from the Muggle world. Want to try some?"

"Oh!"

Draco frowned.

He admitted that he wanted to try them, but this was hardly befitting a pure-blood.

Allen picked up a chocolate truffle and focused on unwrapping its tin foil, casually sweetening the offer.

"The finest, most expensive kind. Supplied exclusively to the Royal Family."

The moment he finished speaking, Draco's expression relaxed. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, in that case, I suppose I could give them a try."

With that, he eagerly opened the box of macarons and bit into one.

Smiling, Allen slowly raised his eyes to watch the platinum-haired young master maintain his haughty air while his hands kept reaching for sweets to inspect and taste.

"What do you think, Draco?"

A hint of pride crept into Allen's voice. "Do you like them?"

Draco slowed his chewing and gave a soft huff. Swallowing the last bite of his macaron, he lifted his chin and said, contrary to what he really felt, "They're all right."

"...But I bet once you've tried wizarding sweets, you'll know what it means to really like something!"

Draco held his chin high, even feeling a little annoyed. Why hadn't he brought any wizarding snacks?

But he soon remembered that they were sold on the Hogwarts train, and the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

What terrible acting...

Allen saw straight through him. He nodded noncommittally, then took out another box of macarons and gently pushed it onto the table.

While they engaged in their friendly "snack diplomacy," Harry also met his new friends.

After saying hello to Allen, Harry had got off the train.

Rather than running around wildly as Allen had imagined, he stood quietly in a corner of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, watching the witches and wizards come and go with a slightly silly smile on his face.

Everyone here was just like him.

They were all witches and wizards.

Though the Royal Family's castle was magnificent and luxurious, and Edward and Allen had treated him very well, and he was grateful to them,

Still...

That place didn't belong to him, after all.

But here-this was his world! Everyone here was just like him!

As he stood there in a happy daze, a tall, red-haired boy suddenly tapped his shoulder. "Hey, kid! Why are you standing here looking so dazed?"

"Lost your mum?"

Two identical red-haired boys took turns speaking.

"But you ought to move over a bit."

Fred spoke.

"You'll get knocked into here!"

George chimed in.

"Thanks!" Harry thanked them a little shyly, then asked with curiosity, "Who are you?"

"Oh! Fred!"

"George!"

The twins pointed at each other, then told Harry,

"You'd better move over a little. Whoever comes through next is bound to be in a hurry..."

Before the twins could finish, a trolley suddenly came through and struck them in the backside.

They turned around, saw who it was, and teased, "Look who it is, Fred!"

"It's our dear little brother, Ronnie!"

Harry followed their gaze and saw a young red-haired boy.

He had freckles on his face and a smudge of dirt on his nose. As his brothers teased him, his whole face flushed as red as his hair. "Fred! George!" he protested.

"What are you two up to now!" A red-haired woman came through with an arm around a little girl. She planted her hands on her hips, furious as a raging lion.

"Fred! George! Get on the train! It's about to leave!"

"And another thing!" she said angrily. "You haven't even helped your brother!"

"All right, Mum!" they said in unison.

"We'll hurry right up!" Fred and George shouted.

They ran toward the train.

The young red-haired boy shouted, "Fred! George! I'm still here!"

When his brothers failed to answer, he couldn't help stamping his foot, his face flushing again.

He looked away from them and met Harry's eyes.

Harry pointed at his trunk. "Need a hand?"

"That'd be great, mate!" The boy smiled. "Oh, right, I'm Ron. Ron Weasley!"

The train set off as the children hurried to find seats.

A long whistle sounded, and snow-white steam drifted through the air as the train carried its load of young witches and wizards, filled with their cheerful chatter and laughter.