The compartment settled into a comfortable quiet after Ron had joined us. He had just finished introducing himself, and despite his slightly over-the-top fascination with Rose, the conversation was flowing easily enough.
"So," Ron said, taking a bite out of the bacon sandwich he had pulled from his pocket. "What house d'you think you'll be in?"
"Dunno," Rose said softly, her gaze flicking to the floor. "Everyone says Gryffindor, but…" She trailed off, her expression uncertain.
"Gryffindor's brilliant," Ron said quickly, his mouth half-full. "My whole family's been in Gryffindor. Except for one," he added with a grimace. "Percy's in his own little world, though. Prefect. Thinks he's Merlin reincarnated."
Rose gave a small smile, but I could tell her mind was elsewhere.
"What about you?" I asked, hoping to steer the conversation back to something lighter.
"Gryffindor, I reckon," Ron said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Though, knowing my luck, I'll end up in Hufflepuff."
"What's wrong with Hufflepuff?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Nothing," Ron said quickly. "Just… they're not exactly known for… I dunno… winning."
"Winning?" I repeated, my lips twitching. "Ron, we're going to school, not a battlefield."
"Tell that to my brothers," Ron muttered. "Fred and George practically declared war on the Slytherins last year."
I chuckled, but before I could say more, the compartment door slid open.
A plump witch with a kind smile stood there, pushing a trolley overflowing with sweets.
"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked warmly.
Ron's eyes lit up, but then he glanced down at the sandwich in his hand, his expression falling.
"Mum packed this," he said with a sigh. "It's bacon. Percy's favorite… not mine. She always forgets."
I caught the hint of disappointment in his voice, and without thinking twice, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a handful of coins.
"Two of everything," I said with a grin.
Ron's eyes went wide. "Blimey… are you sure?"
"Positive," I said, handing over the money.
Minutes later, the compartment was filled with Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and a dozen other magical treats.
Ron looked like he'd died and gone to heaven.
"You didn't have to do that, mate," he said, but his hands were already reaching for a Cauldron Cake.
"Consider it a 'welcome to Hogwarts' gift," I said, grinning.
"Cheers, Ethan!" Ron said enthusiastically, already unwrapping a Chocolate Frog.
Rose took a Pumpkin Pastie, her eyes brightening a little as the tension she'd been carrying since we met began to ease.
"Here," I said, offering one to her.
"Thanks," she murmured softly, giving me a small smile.
For a while, everything felt… normal. Or as normal as things could be on a magical train bound for a school of witchcraft and wizardry.
Ron was halfway through a Chocolate Frog when the door slid open again.
But this time, it wasn't the trolley lady.
Three boys stood in the doorway.
The one in the centre had pale blonde hair, slicked back neatly, and a smirk that practically oozed arrogance. His cold grey eyes swept over the compartment with a look of barely concealed disdain.
Draco Malfoy.
Flanking him were two towering lumps of muscle—Crabbe and Goyle. Their vacant expressions made it clear that Malfoy did all the thinking in this trio.
"So," Malfoy drawled, his smirk deepening as his eyes landed on Rose. "It's true, then. Rose Potter."
Rose stiffened beside me, her fingers tightening around her Pumpkin Pastie.
Malfoy's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than necessary before his eyes flicked to me.
"And you are…?" he asked, his tone cool but curious.
"Ethan Carter," I replied calmly, meeting his gaze head-on.
Malfoy's smirk twitched as if he was filing that information away.
"Malfoy," he said smoothly. "Draco Malfoy." His tone carried a confidence that bordered on entitlement. "And these," he added, nodding toward the two hulking figures behind him, "are Crabbe and Goyle."
"Charmed, I'm sure," I said dryly, my tone just a touch too polite.
Malfoy's lips curled slightly, but his attention shifted back to Rose.
"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Potter," he said smoothly, his gaze lingering on her. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
His eyes flicked to me briefly, his meaning crystal clear.
Ron let out a snort that he tried—and failed—to disguise as a cough.
Malfoy's smirk widened.
"I think I can decide who the right sort is, thanks," Rose said softly, but there was steel beneath her words.
Malfoy's smirk thinned, his eyes narrowing just a fraction.
"Suit yourself," he said coolly. But his gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, something calculating flickering in his eyes.
Then, his attention dropped to the pile of sweets sprawled across our laps.
"Stocking up, are we?" Malfoy murmured, his smirk curling with amusement. "Trying to make up for lost meals at home, Weasley?"
Ron's grip on his sandwich tightened, but before he could say anything, Malfoy's smirk twisted into something even more unpleasant.
"Or did Potter treat you?" His gaze flicked to Rose again. "Famous, and generous too. Isn't that sweet?"
Rose's face flushed, and I felt the tension spike beside me.
"Back off, Malfoy," I said softly, but my voice was steady and carried an edge that cut through the air like a blade.
Malfoy's eyes met mine, and I saw the flash of irritation behind his smug facade.
"Relax," he said smoothly, but I caught the challenge in his tone. "We were just… admiring your taste."
"Right," I replied, my tone calm but cool. "And I suppose that's why your friend here"—I nodded toward Goyle—"was about to help himself?"
Goyle's hand, which had been inching toward a Chocolate Frog, froze mid-air. He blinked, his expression as dumb as ever.
"Hands off," I said softly, but there was no mistaking the warning in my tone.
Goyle withdrew his hand, but not before casting one last longing glance at the sweets.
"Calm down," Malfoy said lazily, but his smirk had thinned slightly. "We were just being friendly."
"Funny," I said, leaning back slightly but keeping my gaze locked on his. "Because where I'm from, friendly doesn't involve taking what isn't yours."
Malfoy's smirk twitched, but he covered it quickly.
"Suit yourself," he said airily, but his eyes lingered on me a moment longer than necessary—like he was assessing a threat.
But then, his gaze hardened as he turned back to Ron.
"You'll find, Weasley," Malfoy said, his voice dripping with condescension, "that some families are better than others. You'd do well to remember that."
Ron's fists clenched tighter, but I spoke before he could.
"And you'd do well to remember," I said softly, my tone calm but carrying an unmistakable edge, "that money doesn't make you better than anyone, Malfoy. It just makes you louder."
For a split second, Malfoy's smirk faltered. Just a flicker.
But I saw it.
"Come on," Malfoy muttered, his voice a shade colder now. "We've wasted enough time."
Crabbe and Goyle lumbered after him, and the door slid shut behind them.
The tension in the compartment lingered for a few moments after they left.
"Git," Ron muttered, breaking the silence. "Malfoy's worse than Percy on a power trip."
"Yeah," I murmured, my jaw still clenched. "And his goons are just the cherry on top."
Rose let out a quiet sigh, her fingers still fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. "He reminded me of… someone," she murmured softly.
I didn't ask who.
We all had a pretty good guess.
"Thanks," Rose murmured softly, her eyes flicking to me.
"For what?" I asked, though I had a pretty good idea.
"For… stopping him," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Anytime," I said with a small smile. "I don't like bullies."
Rose gave me a grateful look, but I could see the weight still lingering in her eyes.
I had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time we crossed paths with Draco Malfoy.
And next time?
I wasn't going to be so polite.
The silence that followed was broken when the door slid open one more time.
This time, it was a bushy-haired girl who looked about our age, her brown eyes scanning the compartment with sharp curiosity.
"Have any of you seen a toad?" she asked briskly. "A boy named Neville's lost one."
"Uh… no," Ron said, blinking in surprise.
"I've checked most of the compartments," she said quickly. "I suppose I'll just have to keep looking."
Her eyes landed on the mess of sweets between us, her brows lifting.
"You've got loads of sweets," she remarked, her tone part curiosity, part disapproval. "I'd have thought you'd be reading your textbooks instead."
"Um…" Ron looked like he wasn't sure whether to respond or hide the Cauldron Cake in his hand.
"I've read all mine already," she added, her tone matter-of-fact. "And I'm hoping to get into Gryffindor. It's supposed to be the best, isn't it? I mean, Dumbledore himself was in Gryffindor."
Her gaze lingered on Rose for a moment longer than necessary.
"You're her, aren't you?" she asked suddenly. "Rose Potter."
Rose blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Uh… yeah."
"I thought so," the girl said briskly. "I've read all about you, you know. The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century… and of course, Hogwarts: A History. You're practically famous."
Rose's cheeks turned pink. "Oh," she mumbled, looking uncomfortable.
"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," the girl said, her tone brisk but not unfriendly.
"Ethan Carter," I said, offering a small nod.
"Ron Weasley," Ron mumbled, looking slightly overwhelmed.
"Pleasure to meet you all," Hermione said quickly. "I'd best get back to finding that toad. Neville's beside himself."
But just as she was about to leave, her eyes flicked to the window.
"You might want to start changing into your robes," she said matter-of-factly. "We'll be at Hogwarts soon."
I blinked and glanced at Ron and Rose.
"Good point," I murmured, suddenly realizing that the sky outside was starting to darken as the train sped through the countryside.
"Blimey," Ron muttered, stuffing the last of his Cauldron Cake into his mouth. "Thanks, Hermione."
Hermione gave a satisfied nod, then disappeared down the corridor, leaving us all blinking in her wake.
"Mental, that one," Ron muttered under his breath.
I wasn't so sure.
I had a feeling Hermione Granger was going to be… interesting.