Arrival

The boy had a pale face, platinum-blond hair, and delicate features, yet insisted on looking down his nose at everyone, radiating arrogance. The same two pudgy boys still flanked him. They were a couple of sizes smaller than Dudley, but still far larger than their peers. He looked every inch the ringleader.

The boy swept his gaze around the compartment and frowned slightly, then his eyes suddenly lit up.

Harry's fringe had parted a little, revealing a faint glimpse of his lightning-shaped scar.

"So, you're... Potter?" The platinum-blond boy looked Harry up and down in disbelief, his gaze finally lingering on Harry's chest. It seemed to take him a while to decide that an eleven-year-old Western girl probably couldn't be quite that flat. "You're a boy?"

"Obviously," Harry said smugly.

The dozen or so young wizards gathered at the door all fell silent.

Obviously? How the hell was that obvious? A few of the young witches, however, had sparkling eyes. Their expressions made them look as though they wanted to devour Harry alive.

Slash fandom was all the rage in Britain, not just in the ordinary world, but in the wizarding world as well. A boy who could satisfy their fantasies of girls together-wasn't that just perfect? And he was none other than the famous Harry Potter!

"All right, Potter." The platinum-blond boy took a deep breath and nodded, accepting that "obviously" for the moment. "I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Ahem." Hermione and Ron both coughed to cover the laughter they couldn't quite contain.

"Pfft." Harry couldn't hold it in and laughed outright.

The surname Malfoy was already a little odd. Mishear it, and it could sound like disloyalty or cunning. That was one thing, but what kind of name was Draco? The Dragon constellation? How narcissistic did parents have to be to give their child a name like that?

It was like meeting someone named Turtle Bigdragon in Chinese. There was just too much to mock.

Draco glared fiercely at Harry but said nothing. Instead, he turned his attention to Ron and Hermione beside him.

"Red hair, freckles, old clothes. You must be one of the Weasley family's children." Draco's gaze passed over Ron as he spoke mockingly. Ron's face immediately turned as red as his hair.

He was indeed wearing a somewhat old outfit, with even the edges beginning to fray. Considering that their earlier conversation had revealed he had four older brothers-five, actually, though he had only mentioned four-the clothes' origins were self-evident.

Oddly enough, Draco made no comment about Hermione. Instead, he looked back at Harry. "You should be able to tell that there are different classes of wizards, too. I think I could offer you some fairly sound advice on choosing your friends."

Harry tilted his head and glanced at the two rather dim-looking pudgy boys behind him. He looked at them, then at Draco. Then at them again, and back at Draco.

"Sorry, but I have some doubts about your judgment," Harry said with a perfectly straight face.

This time, neither Ron nor Hermione could hold back. Both burst out laughing.

"Potter..." The faint smile that had lingered on Draco's face vanished at the sight.

"A word of advice: learn some respect. Otherwise, you won't end up any better than your parents. They met that end because they were always mixing with disreputable sorts. If you ask me..."

Draco never finished what he was saying. He was already crouching down, clutching his nose, blood visibly spurting between his fingers.

Gasps erupted all around them.

Harry shook out his hand, his smile growing even brighter. "I'll give you a word of advice, too. I don't like people passing judgment on me. And I'm not particularly fond of reasoning with people weaker than I am. Got that, weakling?"

"You-you dare?" Draco clutched his nose, groaning in pain. "Crabbe, Goyle, give them a good beating!"

The two pudgy boys beside Draco seemed only then to recover from the shock of seeing him hit. One of them reached out to grab Harry.

But the moment his eyes met Harry's, his body abruptly froze. In the next instant, Harry seized his wrist and tugged it backward while driving his own body forward, slamming his shoulder into the pudgy boy's chest. Somehow, Harry's foot had already slipped behind the boy's calf.

Thud!

The pudgy boy, who looked nearly twice Harry's weight, was knocked flat in a single blow. If Draco hadn't dodged quickly, he would certainly have been pinned underneath him.

"Seriously? Seriously? You want to pick a fight with skills like that?" Harry spread his hands, wearing an exaggerated look of surprise as he watched the dumbstruck Draco and the other pudgy boy, who was too frightened to come forward.

"You-you just wait! This isn't over!" Seeing Harry look ready to approach, Draco panicked. He hauled up the pudgy boy, who had been groaning for some time without managing to get up, and hurried away toward another carriage farther down the train.

By now, twenty or thirty students had gathered to watch, most wearing astonished expressions. A few of the girls were looking at Harry with eyes that practically blazed.

Harry smiled at the surrounding students, putting on a friendly expression.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Potter, Harry Potter. Some of you may know my name, and some may not, but that doesn't matter. We'll have at least a school year to get to know each other, and I hope it'll be a pleasant one. Right now, I might need a little rest."

With that, Harry nodded again, stepped back into the compartment, and closed the door behind him.

"You... how could you hit someone?" Only then did Hermione recover, asking with an astonished expression.