That Damned Redheaded Weasel!

"Thank you, Miss Malfoy, but I think I have my own ideas and conside-about making friends..."

"Pfft, hahaha..."

Before Harry could finish, the sound of someone stifling laughter came from nearby.

Stifling laughter was one thing, but she apparently hadn't managed to hold it in...

The moment Harry heard it, he knew things were about to go badly.

Yes, not just badly, but very badly indeed!

Miss Malfoy hadn't been particularly pleasant to begin with, and had attacked other students plenty of times.

She had even brought Crabbe and Goyle along behind her. No one would have doubted it if someone said she had come looking for trouble.

With Harry holding Malfoy's attention earlier, she certainly wouldn't have done anything too excessive.

But if Malfoy's attention shifted from Harry to someone else...

Harry felt that things might not be so easy to wrap up...

Whether it was Hermione or Ron laughing, Malfoy would probably lay into either of them...

Hermione went without saying. With her background, Malfoy could attack her however she pleased. There really was no getting around that.

Hermione wasn't even Gryffindor's star student yet. She had absolutely no way of dealing with Malfoy.

Ron...

Ah, the Weasley family...

And judging by the voice...

Hermione's voice was relatively steady, but that laugh had sounded rather sweet. It was probably Ron's...

That was even worse!

Turning their heads, Harry and Draco both caught sight of Ron's irrepressible smile.

Without Molly to keep it in check, her red hair had now come completely loose, spilling freely over her shoulders.

Although Malfoy's pleated skirt, silver-green waistcoat, and white shirt, along with her dark brown tie and dark green outer robe, all looked perfectly appropriate and presentable.

For some reason, though, seeing Malfoy like that, combined with her first and last names, Ron simply found her terribly funny...

"Hey! You think my name's funny, do you?"

Smoothing her long blond hair, Malfoy immediately fell into a foul mood.

You already annoyed me enough by leaning against Potter just now, and now you dare laugh at me?

Oh, just you wait, you damned redheaded weasel...

As she spoke, Malfoy gently pushed Harry in the chest, making him move aside a little.

Actually, Harry had quite a nice build. It was just that those Muggle clothes he wore were hideous...

"I don't even need to guess. You're a Weasley, aren't you?"

Malfoy's little face was faintly flushed, her eyes full of haughty contempt and arrogance as she stared at Ron, who had just been leaning against Harry.

Watching this, Harry pressed a hand to his forehead, rather speechless.

Well, even with their genders changed, Ron and Malfoy's feud had still arrived right on schedule...

Was there any way I could avoid getting dragged into this or affected by it?

Those muddleheaded idiots. How was I the one who made an enemy of Malfoy? It was clearly Ron's doing...

Forget it. Ron was pretty nice. I should help if I could. It was definitely not because she was a little redheaded girl. I swear!

Standing to one side, Harry's gaze darkened briefly as his mind raced, frantically searching for a way to avoid offending either side.

"...Shabby secondhand robes, a head of frizzy red hair. Oh, yours isn't frizzy, but it's still nowhere near as nice as mine..."

Malfoy walked straight up and casually pawed at Ron's hair. Who knew where in Merlin's vicinity she had tossed the word "respect."

"Let me guess. Are you the sixth Weasley child? That Ron Weasley who can't even afford new clothes? Oh, poor Miss Weasley. Would you like me to buy you something that 'fits'?"

The corners of her mouth curved slightly upward, and a mocking smile appeared on Malfoy's face with perfect ease.

On the old Draco, it really would have looked quite punchable.

But on the current Malfoy...

All right, it was still a little punchable.

"Malfoy!"

After that performance from Draco, Ron's temper naturally flared too.

Yes, she couldn't hold a grudge.

But if she blew up right there on the spot, did she even need to hold one?

With Ron's short fuse, there was no way she could take Malfoy getting right in her face and laying into her like that.

She slapped the table, scattering snack wrappers all over the floor, then stood up and glared furiously at Malfoy!

At worst, they'd just have a fight, wouldn't they? What did she have to be afraid of?

Malfoy had said it herself, after all. She was wearing patched, tattered secondhand robes.

In that case, if her clothes got ruined, so be it.

She just wondered whether Malfoy would scream and cry like a pitiful little white ferret if she tore a few tufts of blond hair off her head...

Ron's eyes narrowed, and she was clearly ready to throw hands.

A fight was about to erupt!

Harry could see it perfectly clearly. Ron and Malfoy's well-defined noses were almost touching, and neither looked ready to let the other off...

"All right, all right. Both of you, settle down."

With something of a headache, Harry walked straight over.

He grabbed Ron's shoulder with his left hand and Malfoy's with his right, applying gentle pressure with both hands.

Good. Both Ron and Malfoy seemed to relax a little when Harry took hold of them, their bodies no longer quite so tense.

Harry barely used any strength before Ron and Malfoy obligingly moved apart. It looked rather harmonious.

Of course, both of them were still leaning forward, as though another clash would immediately erupt the moment Harry let go...

"Let's talk nicely, Miss Weasley and Miss Malfoy. How about it?"

"You two don't need to come over."

Seeing Harry touch Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle couldn't hold back and were about to rush forward, cracking their knuckles.

Naturally, Malfoy wasn't going to allow that.

Although her shoulder hurt a tiny bit, Potter's hand felt warm and rather comfortable. She happened to have slept without her covers properly tucked around her last night, so warming up a little was quite nice...

"Mr. Potter, not to meddle."

Seeing Ron standing beside Harry with her hands on her hips as though nothing had happened, Malfoy felt another surge of displeasure.

Her pert nose scrunched up, and an expression of utter distaste immediately appeared on her fair face:

"When it comes to making friends, my father told me that one must be very, very careful."

"Whether they're idiots, Mudbloods, or the dregs of wizarding society, none of them are worth befriending, really. You're one of us, aren't you?"

"Think about it, Harry. Even the air stinks in here. Can you stand it?"