"I'd be happy to meet him," Jerry replied with a casual smile. "I've always enjoyed making new friends."
He saw no reason to decline Hermione's offer. Having already decided to join Gryffindor House, it made strategic sense to establish a connection with Harry Potter beforehand. Harry held a privileged position at Hogwarts as the prophesied saviour and Dumbledore's clear favourite. A positive relationship with him would likely translate to favourable treatment from the Headmaster as well.
Besides, with the relatively small number of students admitted to Hogwarts each year, and even fewer sorted into each individual House, there was a good chance Jerry would be assigned to the same dormitory as Harry. Better to start that relationship on the right foot.
"Come on, he's in a compartment just ahead," Hermione said eagerly, leading Jerry and Neville at a brisk pace toward the next carriage.
As they approached the compartment where Harry was supposedly waiting, however, they heard raised voices through the door, an argument clearly in progress.
"You ought to be more careful about the company you keep, Potter," a drawling voice stated coldly. "If you insist on associating with riffraff like the Weasleys and that oaf Hagrid, it'll end badly for you. The same way it did for your parents. Some wizarding families are better than others, I can help you figure out which is which."
"Say that again," another voice challenged, tight with barely contained anger.
"Oh, looking for a fight, are you?" the first voice taunted.
Hermione, who was leading their small group, slid open the compartment door. Jerry peered in over her shoulder to find not the two boys Hermione had mentioned, but five young wizards facing off against each other in an increasingly tense standoff.
Standing near the window was a thin boy with unruly black hair, round glasses, and, most distinctively, a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. Harry Potter, unmistakably. Beside him stood a lanky, freckled boy with vivid red hair and blue eyes, the telltale markers of a Weasley. Ron, presumably.
Across from them stood three boys: a pale, pointed-faced youth with slicked-back platinum blond hair, flanked by two much larger boys who resembled bodyguards more than students. Their positioning and dynamic immediately struck Jerry as familiar, Draco Malfoy and his ever-present shadows, Crabbe and Goyle.
Jerry frowned slightly. In the storyline he remembered, he couldn't recall any confrontation between Malfoy and Harry occurring on the train. Was his memory failing him after so many years? Or had his presence in this world already caused a butterfly effect, altering events from their original course? Perhaps there was some other explanation he couldn't yet fathom.
"What's going on?" Hermione demanded, her voice sharp with disapproval. "You're not fighting, are you? We haven't even reached the school yet, and you're already causing trouble!"
"Well, well, more reinforcements have arrived," drawled the pale boy, eyeing the newcomers with a mixture of wariness and disdain. He took a step backwards, positioning his larger companions between himself and the now more numerous opposition.
Crabbe and Goyle, evidently unconcerned about facing first-years who were considerably smaller than themselves, advanced menacingly. Goyle squared off against Harry and Ron, while Crabbe moved to block Hermione, Jerry, and Neville at the doorway.
Seeing Hermione tense as the much larger Crabbe approached, Jerry smoothly stepped forward, gently pulling her behind him.
"This doesn't appear to be your compartment," Jerry observed calmly. "I think it might be best if you left."
"That's right!" Harry added, bolstered by Jerry's support despite his obvious apprehension at facing the hulking Goyle. "You're not welcome here. Please leave."
"But we don't want to leave just yet," Malfoy countered with a smirk. "Isn't that right, Crabbe, Goyle? We've finished all our own snacks, and you seem to have plenty left. We'll go, after we've helped ourselves to yours."
With a significant glance from Malfoy, his companions moved into action. Goyle shoved Harry aside with one meaty hand while reaching for the pile of sweets on the seat with the other. Simultaneously, Crabbe lunged forward, both hands outstretched to push Jerry, Hermione, and Neville backward into the corridor.
What happened next occurred so quickly that most observers could scarcely follow the sequence of events.
"ARGH!"
"YAHHH!"
Twin cries of pain erupted within the compartment, but not from Harry or Jerry, as might have been expected. Instead, it was Goyle and Crabbe who howled in distress.
As Goyle's hand descended toward the pile of treats, a small gray blur launched itself from among the colorful wrappers, Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, sinking its teeth firmly into Goyle's knuckle.
Meanwhile, when Crabbe moved to shove Jerry, the smaller boy did something unexpected. Rather than attempting to resist the larger boy's push directly, Jerry intercepted Crabbe's hands with his own, interlacing their fingers in what initially appeared to be an odd handshake. Suddenly, Jerry twisted his wrists, applying targeted pressure to the nerve points between Crabbe's fingers.
The effect was instantaneous. Ten fingers directly connected to the central nervous system, all compressed simultaneously, Crabbe dropped to his knees, eyes watering with pain.
"I don't think you'll want to leave just yet," Jerry said softly as Malfoy and Goyle, the latter having shaken off the rat, prepared to flee. "We haven't properly introduced ourselves."
Jerry hooked his right foot around Goyle's ankle with remarkable speed, sending the larger boy tumbling to the floor. In the same fluid motion, he released one hand from Crabbe and flicked his wrist, deploying a thin golden wire that he used to bind Malfoy's arms behind his back swiftly.
The resulting tableau was striking: Jerry maintained his painful finger-lock on the kneeling Crabbe with his left hand while his right controlled a restrained Malfoy. Meanwhile, Goyle lay sprawled on the floor, clutching his bitten finger and moaning.
The impact of this display was evident on the faces of the onlookers. Harry and Ron exchanged wide-eyed glances before simultaneously gulping in astonishment. Hermione and Neville stood frozen in the doorway, jaws slack with shock.
Of all those present, Hermione appeared the most profoundly affected. Having spent the most time with Jerry, she had formed an impression of him as unfailingly polite, gentle, and gentlemanly, a boy so courteous he had initially insisted on addressing her formally. This sudden demonstration of combat proficiency seemed wildly incongruous with the Jerry she thought she knew.
"J-Jerry," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper, "perhaps you should let them go? They seem to be in a great deal of pain."
"Oh!" Jerry blinked, as if suddenly becoming aware of his actions. "You're absolutely right. How embarrassing, I may have used excessive force. You must understand, I truly detest violence. It's simply that when confronted with aggression, my instincts take over. A regrettable habit."
Despite his words of contrition, the smile that accompanied them didn't quite reach his eyes. As he gradually released his holds on Malfoy and Crabbe, the three Slytherin boys scrambled away, pressing themselves against the compartment wall near the door, their expressions a mixture of pain, humiliation, and unmistakable fear.