In such a bad mood

Thinking of the Potions professor in the original story, who had singled him out for five... six years and only finally spoken his heart just before his death, Harry could not help sighing.

The Snape of the past really had not been a decent person, and he had been thoroughly unpleasant.

Harry still disliked him, even after watching that wonderful actor portray Snape in the films and learning about Snape's emotional journey through the later plot.

Because Snape could not even be considered a competent professor!

He put far too much psychological pressure on his students, and even took the lead in giving them nasty nicknames!

Snape could never deny the fact that he had called Hermione "Miss Know-It-All."

Besides, what sort of professor lurked around like a ghost every day, scaring students at every turn?

His own abilities were one thing, and teaching students was another. Clearly, in that respect, Slughorn was more of a competent professor than Snape.

But whatever the case, in the end, Professor Snape had...

It had to be said that people were complicated. No one was entirely honorable, and no one was vile through and through...

Snape was just such a complicated mix, and Harry had little grounds to criticize him.

He had his own selfish side and his own considerations, too. He could not possibly be some saint or sage.

Of course, Umbridge the pink toad was an exception. Her evil already rivaled Voldemort's; she was simply too weak and lacked his power...

Standing beside the compartment and listening to Ron go on and on, Malfoy finally could not hold back the tears in her reddened eyes.

Crystal-clear tears, carrying a trace of warmth, slowly rolled down Draco's face.

She had never been a Death Eater! What did any of this have to do with her?

What right did she have to belittle her like that in front of Potter? How would Potter look at her afterward?

His parents had died at You-Know-Who's hands, but that really had nothing to do with her. Nothing at all...

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

That damned weasel, that redheaded vixen! She was an utterly unforgivable bastard!

How could she poison Harry's mind like that? She was rotten to the core!

Besides, she really had only wanted to make friends with Potter. Perhaps her words had been biased, but couldn't Potter have told her in private instead of saying it in front of so many people...?

On that note, the only thing that made Malfoy feel slightly better was that Potter had actually said something decent, rather than mindlessly joining that redheaded rat in speaking ill of her.

She did not know how Harry would see her in the future, but for now, she would leave it at that.

But why couldn't Potter stand up for me to my face?

Malfoy still could not understand it, and the more she thought about it, the more wronged she felt.

Forget it.

Once school started, she would definitely be sorted into Slytherin. Crabbe and Goyle had followed her since childhood; that went without saying.

But where exactly would Potter be sorted...?

Malfoy wiped her eyes with her robes and, without saying anything more, went straight back to her own compartment.

Just you wait, Potter. You'll get what's coming to you once school starts!

Your parents were wizards, too. You'll definitely be sorted into Slytherin. Definitely.

At that moment, the young lady of the Malfoy family could no longer think of anything else.

She did not care that plenty of young witches and wizards in Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw also had parents who were wizards!

Anyway, I'll pester you in class every day. I'll show you what happens when you offend me!

Of course, as the Malfoy family's only daughter, I'm actually very magnanimous.

Even though you've offended me like this, I'll still rescue you from that damned stinking rat Weasley's clutches and spare you a disaster!

Silently making these fierce declarations to herself, Malfoy sat in her seat and looked at the food box her mother Narcissa had carefully prepared for her, yet could not eat a single bite.

She had always loved her mother's cooking, and her mother had always treated her very well as she grew up.

But, but...

But looking at the delicious food now only left Malfoy feeling rather agitated.

I'm in such a bad mood. Damn it, aaaaah!!!

As the train continued onward, at last...

They finally reached the Hogwarts Express's final destination-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!

"Come on, Harry. Merlin's beard, the weather's absolutely awful today..."

Looking at the drizzling rain overhead and the dark clouds still gathering, Ron's previously cheerful face immediately fell.

Damn it, her cloak didn't seem very rainproof now...

Wizards did not have as much rain gear as Muggles.

Generally, they simply used the hoods of their cloaks, though many powerful wizards could also use a Water-Repelling Charm.

"Yeah, this awful weather..."

Harry took a look and also thought the weather was absolutely dreadful.

And the weather was not the only dreadful thing.

There was Hagrid, too...

Hagrid was a little too rough around the edges. In weather like this, young witches and wizards like them had to follow him across Hogwarts' enormous Black Lake...

Oh well. A once-in-a-lifetime experience was something you had to try first, wasn't it?

This would only happen once in his life. Let him be. There wouldn't be a second time anyway...

Harry and Ron got off the train, greeted Hagrid from a distance, and found a little boat to sit in.

"Damn it, the rain's getting heavier..."

The hood of Ron's worn-out cloak had already fallen off earlier.

Although Molly had done some mending for Ron beforehand, its waterproofing was still far worse than that of new clothes...

Just as Ron covered his head, preparing to endure it...

Huh?

Had the rain stopped?

Ron looked up in a daze and discovered that Harry had stretched out his right hand, covering her head with the sleeve of his own robes!

"Harry, I..."

"You'll get sick if you get too wet. We can talk later."

Harry pulled down the brim of his hood and shielded Ron with his right hand, more or less settling into his seat in the boat.

Damn it, it hadn't been this miserable in the original, had it?

Still, whatever the case, although the rain had soaked the seat beneath them, at least their heads had escaped. That was already pretty good.

With Harry's sleeve covering him, Ron could not very well look up now.

But that was all right. Not looking up was nothing Ron could not accept.

Although the position was a little strange and a little uncomfortable, it was still better than getting pelted and soaked by the rain, wasn't it?

Close his eyes, take out a chicken leg, and it would be over before long. It would soon pass...

It had to be said that, when it came to taking things in stride, Ron performed as reliably as ever.