Five Points to Gryffindor!

The fifty students taking part in Muggle Life Experience Week returned to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters by steam train early in the morning.

Professor Burbage stood at the platform at London's King's Cross Station and clapped her hands at the young witches and wizards who had disembarked.

"All right, children," she said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly. "From now on, remember that you're here to experience Muggle life, not to perform 'Wow! What kind of magic is that?!' for them... You know what I mean, right? Don't go shouting and screaming every time you come across something."

A few students from pure-blood families instinctively closed their open mouths. As for the four Slytherins-Pansy had used the power of money to persuade a Muggle student from Hufflepuff to give her his place.

The four of them looked a little disdainful. Clearly, they didn't think Muggles could have anything that would surprise them.

"If you have any disagreements among yourselves," Professor Burbage continued, her tone as calm as if she were explaining how to cut a Mandrake, "please settle them the Muggle way, with your fists, for example, not your wands."

Ron muttered, "Then Malfoy might get beaten up pretty badly."

"Unless he calls his godfather to help him," George added from beside him.

Fred nodded matter-of-factly. "That would be deadly, all right."

Professor Burbage ignored the Weasley brothers' whispers and began handing out Tube cards and cash.

"This is your money for today," she instructed as she handed it out. "Keep it safe. Don't lose it, and don't let it get stolen-Muggle thieves don't use Summoning Charms."

Harry took her Tube card and slipped it expertly into her pocket, though the pockets of the trousers she was wearing were so pitifully small that only half the card fit. Hermione carefully divided her cash into several portions and put them in different places, just in case.

When Draco got his Tube card, he frowned and turned it over and over. "How does this thing work? You swipe it and get into the station? A Muggle Portkey?"

Harry couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Yes, Malfoy, Muggles use Portkeys to commute every day."

Draco missed the sarcasm and nodded thoughtfully instead. "That's pretty advanced. They've actually invented universal keys on a mass scale."

Harry: ...

She couldn't be bothered with him.

Professor Burbage clapped her hands. "All right, now that everyone understands, let's go!"

Draco strode over to Harry and gave her a confident smile under her wary gaze. "Professor Burbage told me to follow you."

Harry said, "Those definitely weren't her exact words."

Draco shrugged. "More or less."

Harry took a deep breath and resisted the urge to punch him, even though Professor Burbage had just said she could.

But just as Draco was smugly preparing to stick close to Harry, a pale, slender hand landed on his shoulder.

Draco stiffened and slowly turned his head.

Snape looked at him expressionlessly, his black eyes unfathomable.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said in a low, measured voice, like a pronouncement before a verdict, "your father... specifically instructed me that, for this event, you are to stay with me."

Draco looked as if he had been struck by lightning, his face turning deathly pale in an instant.

"W-what?!" His eyes widened in disbelief. "My father? Why?!"

The corners of Snape's mouth rose slightly in a sneer that could almost be called "pleased."

"Perhaps..." he said slowly, "it is because he does not wish to see you... do anything... irrational."

Countless possibilities flashed through Draco's mind. Had his father found out that he had secretly written to his mother to complain about being mocked by him last time? Was his father really that petty?!

He opened his mouth to protest, but Snape had already turned away.

"Follow me, Malfoy," he said without looking back. "Unless you want me to write to your father about your performance today."

Draco: "..."

He cast Harry a despairing glance. She was trying hard to hold back her laughter, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Ron, who had just been bad-mouthing him with the twins, looked sympathetic, his voice full of false compassion:

"Don't be sad, Malfoy. At least you still have... uh... Professor Snape's love?"

Draco: "..."

He didn't want Snape's love.

Draco Malfoy, a once-proud Slytherin prince, now trudged dejectedly behind Snape like a drenched little white ferret.

He looked at Harry Potter, who was surrounded by Gryffindors not far away, like stars gathered around the moon. Ron was showing her a map, Hermione was explaining Muggle history, and Ginny had even linked arms with her affectionately.

And him?

All he could do was stay with Snape, like a cat being carried by the scruff of its neck by a parent.

This isn't fair!

He cried out in grief and indignation in his heart.

I have to write to Mum! How could Dad treat me like this!

When the Tube gate opened with a beep after a card was swiped, the young witches and wizards around it exclaimed in amazement.

"Wow! It opened by itself!" Neville's eyes widened.

"This is much gentler than the Knight Bus..." Seamus touched his chest, still shaken. Ever since riding the Knight Bus, he had felt this way every time he took the Tube.

"Muggle Portkeys are actually this useful?" Ginny, who had heard her parents mention Muggle facilities but had never seen them, marvelled.

Draco, meanwhile, walked up expressionlessly, swiped his card and went through in one smooth motion, without so much as a second glance at the gate.

Professor Burbage raised her eyebrows in surprise, then looked at him approvingly.

"Five points to Slytherin," she said with a smile. "Mr. Malfoy has shown great composure."

Draco, too weary to speak: "..."

After they boarded the coach Hogwarts had chartered, Professor Burbage stood at the front and began introducing the day's itinerary.

"Our destination today is the British Museum, which houses precious artefacts from all over the world!"

Draco found a window seat and sat down. Just as he was about to slump in his seat and stare into space, someone suddenly squeezed in beside him. He glanced over and saw it was Pansy Parkinson.

For once, she was wearing a pale purple dress today, with a little light blush on her cheeks, making her look much softer than usual.

"Draco," she whispered, leaning closer with an affected show of shyness, "I really don't understand why we have to come and see the things belonging to these... crude, barbaric creatures." She curled her lip. "It makes me sick to think they're considered the same kind of being as us."

Draco had been lost in thought, but when he heard this, he frowned.

He turned to look at Pansy with an almost unfamiliar expression.

"You..." he began slowly. "...chose Muggle Studies, and yet your understanding of Muggles is still stuck at 'crude, barbaric creatures'?"

Pansy froze, clearly not expecting that reaction from him.

"I... I just think they're not as good as wizards..." Her voice grew a little weaker.

After saying it, Draco himself was taken aback.

Merlin, when did I start speaking up for Muggles?

But he soon couldn't be bothered to think about it.

The Malfoy family discriminated against Muggles, but they didn't deliberately portray them in a bad light when educating their children. Most of the time, they even stuck to the facts and let the children make their own judgments.

Snape sat in the front row of the coach. Catching sight of Draco and Pansy's interaction out of the corner of his eye, he gave an almost inaudible snort.

How rare. The young master of the esteemed Malfoy family is actually starting to understand Muggles?

Five points to Gryffindor!