novelraw Chapter 30: Dialogue on the Hogwarts Express
Chapter 30: Dialogue on the Hogwarts Express
A/N:
Hello there, everyone! If you've made it this far in the fanfic, thank you so much for reading. I know there may be some inconsistencies in the writing—I'm not a professional writer, and English isn't my first language. As I mentioned in the Chapter 1 A/N, this is a fanfic, so some things will be different from canon. Any comments, reviews, or Power Stones would be greatly appreciated. Thanks again for your support!
Chapter Thirty: Dialogue on the Hogwarts Express
The Hogwarts Express was moving smoothly across the endless fields, and the lazy afternoon sun shone through the glass windows, making Harry and Ron drowsy.
Across from them, Hermione was wide awake. She was engrossed in a book called Wanderings with Werewolves, and was at a crucial point.
The afternoon tranquility was suddenly shattered by the sound of the compartment door being pulled open. A boy with platinum-blond hair was peering into the compartment through the crack in the door.
Hermione looked up at the sound and met those jewel-like, clear gray eyes.
"Draco," she whispered, surprised, trying to smile at him with a stiff expression, "what brings you here?"
"There's something I have to do," he said, standing beside her seat and looking at her with a somewhat uneasy expression.
Hermione was puzzled. She instinctively moved closer to the window, making room for him. "Would you like to sit?"
"Thank you." He sat down, his expression softening slightly, though his pale lips were still tightly pressed together.
Hermione probably knew where his unease came from—opposite them, Ron was giving this uninvited visitor a wary look.
That day in Diagon Alley, when she'd later taken her parents to Flourish and Blotts to meet the Weasleys, she'd overheard Ron's sister Ginny Weasley whispering that "Lucius Malfoy just had a fight with Mr. Weasley, and the man was very rude."
Then, on the day she'd returned to school, she'd spent the entire morning in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express receiving Ron's lectures and enlightenment, learning about the "evil pure-blood ideology" upheld by the Malfoy family, which had deeply shocked her.
"Absolutely not! Draco doesn't seem like that kind of person! He's always been very friendly to me—how could his father discriminate against Muggle-born wizards—" she'd retorted anxiously to Ron, "Isn't there some misunderstanding?"
"Misunderstanding? Hermione, just ask any of your classmates, especially those with wizarding backgrounds, and they'll all give you the same answer," Ron had said. "Lucius Malfoy used to be one of You-Know-Who's followers! A Death Eater for certain!"
"What are Death Eaters?" Harry had asked.
"They're the most loyal followers of You-Know-Who. Dad said they're all proficient in the Dark Arts, cruel and bloodthirsty, and devoted to You-Know-Who." Ron had swallowed and shuddered. "They hold the most extreme pure-blood ideology and love to torture Muggles and Muggle-born wizards."
"Draco's father is one of them?" Harry had asked doubtfully. "But in the wizarding world, aren't there any punishments for committing crimes?"
"Most Death Eaters were imprisoned in Azkaban, the wizarding prison," Ron had said. "But Draco's father claimed he was spared punishment because he was under the Imperius Curse. My dad said that was a complete lie—his family had always dabbled in the Dark Arts and looked down on Muggle-born wizards, even pure-blood wizards who were friendly with Muggles. That day, Draco's father even called my dad a 'blood traitor'..."
Good heavens! Draco's father was a Death Eater, the kind of Death Eater who "tortured Muggles and Muggle-born wizards"? Hermione had felt her stomach clench at the thought.
For some reason, she'd felt a little angry, though she hadn't known at whom she should be angry.
She'd never imagined that Draco would have such a terrible father. After all, Draco didn't seem like the kind of person who would discriminate against Muggle-born wizards, making it hard for her to imagine that he was a boy raised by a pure-blood wizard with such extreme prejudice.
Admittedly, he possessed a somewhat aloof air, and he was indiscriminately haughty toward most students. This aligned with Ron's description of the Malfoy family's character.
However, that day in Diagon Alley, he'd been kind, gentle, and courteous to her parents, and the atmosphere had been very harmonious. Even after they'd gotten home, her parents had spoken highly of him!
He'd known perfectly well that they were Muggles!
His attitude hardly suggested discrimination against Muggles, let alone wizards of Muggle origin.
How could he possibly have a father who was prejudiced against Muggle-born wizards?
Hermione had spent the entire morning feeling conflicted in her compartment.
Several times, she'd wanted to rush out, find him, and ask him face-to-face what was going on.
If he denied these rumors outright, if he could offer some explanation that had led to the misunderstanding between the two families, then she would believe him without hesitation, and even see if she could help him clear up the misunderstanding with Ron.
But she'd been unusually timid. She hadn't dared to go to him. She wasn't mentally prepared, nor did she know how to start the conversation.
If what Ron said was true, and there was no misunderstanding between the two families, and all the rumors about the Malfoy family were true, then what should she do?
How should she face the boy whose smile made everything else pale in comparison?
How should she face her favorite study partner, her loyal Slytherin friend, the special boy she always couldn't help but steal glances at and talk to?
Hermione's feelings had been a tumult of emotions.
She'd buried herself in one of Lockhart's books, no longer wanting to hear what Harry and Ron were saying.
She'd been trying to escape reality.
However, reality didn't cease to exist just because people tried to avoid it—sometimes, it came knocking on their door.
Just as she was becoming increasingly engrossed in Lockhart's book and her emotions were calming down, Draco had unexpectedly come looking for her.
With an unsettling expression that made one's heart clench, he sat upright and tall beside her, his exquisitely sculpted profile almost touching hers.
He has a nice nose, she thought, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
Oh, come on, Hermione, this isn't the time to think about that! She was furious with herself. She turned a page of her book with feigned nonchalance, thinking, should she take this opportunity to ask him if these rumors were true or false?
The next second, without her even asking, Draco had already spoken.
He spoke directly to Ron. "Listen, Ron, I know you might have some issues with my father. I have to apologize to you for his words and actions toward your father. Judging from your sister's expression that day, although I don't know what he said, it probably wasn't very pleasant."
Ron Weasley sat dumbfounded in his seat—for a moment he'd thought Draco had come to argue with him. He'd never expected to receive an apology from an arrogant Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy, the aloof and proud Slytherin boy, had actually come to their compartment to apologize, which was as unbelievable as "Professor Snape awarding Hermione five points for a correct answer."
Unlike Harry's tolerant attitude, Ron's feelings toward Draco had always been somewhat complicated.
On the one hand, Ron believed they were from completely different worlds—from their houses to their family backgrounds, from head to toe—and because of the differences in their parents' ideologies, he'd always harbored a certain wariness toward this Malfoy.
On the other hand, although Draco was naturally aloof and lacked enthusiasm, he was still much friendlier to them than many Slytherins, never showing any malice and even extending a helping hand to them on several occasions.
If Draco had treated them worse than his father did, things would have been much easier. But Draco was clearly friendly to them, and his behavior was impeccable.
"It doesn't seem fair to hold a grudge against Draco because of his terrible father. He can't choose who his father is, can he?" Harry had just advised him this way.
Ron remained silent, his mind replaying the endless words of comfort Harry had given him, his eyes fixed on the slightly tense face of the boy before him.
It was the owner of this face who'd guided them when they were lost on the way to the Transfiguration classroom, rescued them from the troll that had terrified them, and helped them find the culprit who'd cursed Harry—Quirrell.
Harry was right—he'd been helping them all along.
He hadn't done anything bad.
He might be different from his father. Perhaps Slytherin wasn't just home to Dark wizards.
Ron hesitated.
Besides, Harry and Hermione—who'd always liked him—were always speaking up for him, Ron thought helplessly.
They were all unwilling to believe that Draco had even the slightest connection to the word "evil," not even as much as Crabbe or Goyle.
Ron glanced at Harry, who was smiling kindly at Draco beside him, and then at Hermione, who looked worried and afraid that they might start fighting at the slightest provocation.
"Don't worry about it. This is between adults. They have different thoughts and perspectives, and it's been going on for ages. There's nothing to make a fuss about." Finally, Ron tried his best to appear nonchalant, his face slightly flushed. "Harry already told me that none of us can choose who our parents are, right?"
"I'm glad you think that way," Draco said, a faint smile playing on his lips.
He'd never expected that forgiveness would come so easily.
He'd had no confidence in gaining their forgiveness. From the very beginning, his motives for showing goodwill toward Harry and the others hadn't been entirely pure—and still weren't—so what right did he have to earn their genuine forgiveness?
However, as he'd spent more time with them, Draco had gradually realized that he didn't want them to misunderstand him, and he didn't want his willful father to ruin their already fragile relationship.
After much deliberation, he'd stepped into the compartment, intending only to give it a try, but he'd never expected to receive such a wonderful surprise.
"Thanks, Harry." He turned his pale eyes to Harry standing next to Ron and smiled at him. Harry winked his gentle green eyes at him and returned the smile.
Harry must have spent considerable time and effort persuading Ron, Draco thought.
Suddenly, Draco began to understand something—why Harry had been so popular in his previous life.
When faced with the same difficult situation, Harry's first instinct was to treat people with sincerity.
He didn't hesitate to think about problems from a positive and kind perspective.
Harry was willing to believe him, even to the point of trying to console his reluctant friend. Not only him—Hermione was willing to give up her seat for him, despite the stiff, unusually complex expression he'd seen on her face from the very beginning. And Ron—whoever he was thinking of—was willing to set aside his prejudices and accept people with different perspectives.
This was a possibility Draco hadn't anticipated. It shouldn't have been this simple.
He'd expected today's conversation to be difficult, or even end badly—Slytherins were accustomed to thinking about things from a negative perspective.
These Gryffindors were different from Slytherins.
They seemed exceptionally broad-minded, willing to try to understand others even when they had doubts... Draco thought silently, increasingly finding his past misunderstandings and hostility toward them so ridiculous and meaningless.
The friendships between teenage boys were simple—as long as they could talk things out, no obstacle was insurmountable.
In the compartment, the tense atmosphere vanished, and the conversation resumed.
"The Chudley Cannons will always be number one in my heart!" Ron exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "They've won the League Cup twenty-one times—no one can deny their glorious past..."
Unfortunately, many people believed that the team's glorious era had come to an end—the Chudley Cannons' performance over the past century had been nothing short of dismal, Draco thought to himself.
Because of the friendly treatment he'd just received, he wisely refrained from commenting on it.
"Draco, which team do you support?" Harry asked curiously.
"I appreciate individual, exceptionally talented players more than teams," Draco said casually. "Eunice Murray of the Montrose Magpies is an outstanding player, and Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies is also quite good."
"They're both Seekers. Harry, this isn't a good sign." Ron gasped, then nudged his friend with a grin. "Watch out—you might end up as opponents on the pitch one day..."
Draco smiled but said nothing, glancing at the trees rushing past the window, then casually glancing at the girl beside him.
She looked somewhat listless as she turned a page of her book with a wan expression.
That made sense. This little girl was often hesitant about flying, and even less interested in Quidditch teams, Draco thought. She had every reason to be unenthusiastic about their conversation.
She probably couldn't get a word in edgewise, which was why she seemed listless, Draco thought.
So he glanced at the book in her hand and changed the subject. "Let's talk about Gilderoy Lockhart, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. What kind of person do you think he is?"
"I had a brief encounter with him at the bookshop," Harry said, a complicated expression on his face. "I have to admit, I can't say I liked him..."
Hermione wasn't silent because the topic was boring, as Draco had thought.
She was still caught up in the fact that he'd apologized directly to Ron.
He didn't argue at all—he just bowed his head and admitted his mistake! She thought in surprise.
This meant that Ron had been right—Draco did indeed have a father who was obsessed with blood purity.
Realizing this, a strange sense of loss welled up in Hermione's heart.
Draco's father was already so harsh toward a pure-blood wizard like Mr. Weasley. If he were to meet her, a true Muggle-born witch, and her Muggle parents, he would probably be even ruder.
She'd initially regretted not having met Draco's father, but now she felt somewhat fortunate.
She was lost in thought, turning page after page of the book, but her mind wasn't on it at all.
With mixed feelings, Hermione stole another glance at him. Draco's sun-kissed platinum-blond hair made it impossible for her to be angry with him, even though she knew he had the most prejudiced father in the world.
Then she'd heard Ron's words of understanding, and for a moment she'd felt that they made perfect sense.
Did it matter whose son he was? It wasn't something he could decide! Hermione couldn't help but think.
He was still that elegant boy. His eyelashes were still like an innocent butterfly, slowly fluttering their wings before her eyes. The voice flowing from his pale lips was still as refreshing as a mint.
Draco Malfoy, a boy who was always in a difficult position. Hermione pretended to be engrossed in the book but actually listened intently to what Mint was saying.
She enjoyed listening to him talk. Sometimes she could hear the subtle nuances in his voice.
Even without looking up, she could tell that he was probably in quite a good mood.
Hermione was right.
Draco was in a good mood. As the lady pushing the trolley passed by the compartment, he waved and bought Ron a bunch of Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, and Liquorice Wands as an apology.
His idea was simple: no child disliked sweets.
This was the only thing Draco could do right now to make himself feel a little better.
Although Ron loved sweets, he still had his pride.
He certainly didn't want an apology that made him feel inferior or that would remind him of his poverty—though Draco had no such intention—but just as he was about to refuse, the Weasley twins burst into the compartment.
"Look who we've found!"
"The Malfoy heir!"
"I heard your father and our father had a big row, so we'll have to teach you a lesson!" Fred grinned wickedly, pulling the unresponsive Draco up from his seat.
"What are you going to do?" Draco asked, bewildered.
"Wait, don't do this! What does this have to do with him? It's not like he—" Hermione reacted quickly, grabbing Draco's sleeve and refusing to let him go.
"Sorry, Hermione, we'll have to borrow him from you for a bit," George said with a smile to the surprised girl, lowering his voice. "We won't bully him—it was just a joke."
"Oh—" A blush rose to her face. She loosened her grip and muttered softly, "Why did you say 'borrow'?"
They each grabbed Draco by an arm and swiftly spirited the astonished boy away.
Everything happened so fast. Long after the three had disappeared behind the compartment door, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still looking at each other in bewilderment.
As soon as Draco's feet touched the floor, he began to tidy his messy hair and robes. "Why are you two always so keen on messing up my hair?"
They were in an empty compartment. The twin brothers glanced into the corridor through the glass window in the door and then quickly pulled the curtain shut.
"Let's call it a little revenge," Fred said wickedly.
"Who told your father to mock our father?" George interjected.
"I regret this, and I've already apologized to your brother." Draco's eyes were blank, and there was a hint of resentment in his tone.
It only took one mouth to offend someone, and the son had to run himself ragged trying to apologize.
With so many Weasley children, he'd have to say "sorry" six or seven times.
"It's rare to see Malfoy get his comeuppance. Try this, and we'll forgive you." Fred chuckled, grinning as he handed him a brightly wrapped sweet. George, standing nearby, couldn't help but laugh too.
Draco looked at them and felt a sense of relief.
It seemed that these two optimistic brothers hadn't taken Lucius's behavior to heart at all.
The more Draco got to know the brothers, the more he appreciated the magnanimity and tolerance hidden beneath their carefree attitude. You rarely saw them truly angry with anyone—even the most burdened person would feel relaxed in their company.
"Is it Fainting Fancies or Fever Fudge?" Draco held the sweet up to the sunlight, showing no intention of trying it himself.
"Fever Fudge," George said regretfully, sounding somewhat disappointed that Draco "wouldn't try it." "It would definitely make you burn up like mad."
"Won't the side effects be too severe?" Draco asked skeptically.
"It does have a bit of a lingering effect—it can cause boils. You'd never guess where they'll appear... It's incredibly painful." Fred chuckled knowingly, scratching his backside. "Indeed, it needs some further refinement."
"If the side effects are too severe, you'll have to wait. The Skiving Snackbox range is meant to solve problems for customers, not create them," Draco said.
"We know," George chuckled. "But it should be fun to play a harmless little prank with this sweet. We just 'accidentally' mixed one into Lee Jordan's pile of sweets—I wonder how he's doing now..."
"Where do you usually store the finished products?" Draco suddenly asked, fiddling with the sweet.
"We just hide them here and there," Fred said nonchalantly, rubbing his nose. "Under the beds in the dormitories, in empty classrooms at Hogwarts... these are all hiding places. We don't want Filch to find them and confiscate them."
"That makes sense. In that case, I have a small proposal." Draco's tone was flat, as if he were casually mentioning something trivial. "How much do you know about Hogsmeade? You must have been there quite a bit last year, right?"
"Of course we've been there quite a few times." The twins exchanged a glance and smiled mysteriously. "It's a brilliant place."
"Have you considered renting a shop in Hogsmeade? A place to store our products." Draco raised his eyelids, observing the brothers' expressions. "We could even apply for a business license from the Ministry and sell our products ourselves."
"Are you serious?" George quickly looked up at the calm boy before him—his expression was so calm that it seemed unreal to George.
"Instead of consigning your intellectual achievements to some obscure corner of someone else's shop, where no one will buy them, why not open your own shop and display your most popular items in the most prominent place?" Draco said. "Is that hard to understand?"
"Of course we know that would be ideal," George said. "But opening a shop is no joke. We've just started our owl-order service, and our consignment business is still in its infancy..."
"I'm not saying we're giving up the mail-order service or the consignment business, or that we're opening the shop tomorrow. Do you think choosing a location is easy? What I mean is, next time you go to Hogsmeade, maybe you can keep an eye out for those empty shops..." Draco explained to them.
Draco had long wanted to establish a presence in Hogsmeade—he'd always loved the place in his previous life.
Hogsmeade was the only all-wizarding village in Britain. It was home to a considerable number of wizards year-round, and its prosperity was second only to Diagon Alley in London.
This was a paradise for Hogwarts students. Every time Hogsmeade was open for visits, Hogwarts Castle became empty early in the morning.
On a cold winter's day, sipping Butterbeer or, more robustly, Firewhisky in that cozy Three Broomsticks was a memory that brought a smile to Draco's face.
Draco knew almost every sweet in Honeydukes, stacked to the ceiling. In his past life, he'd tasted them all with Crabbe and Goyle.
The Shrieking Shack was considered by some Slytherin boys to be the best place to test their courage—whoever got closer could gain more respect from others to some extent.
Each landmark here was unique and linked to some of Draco's "happy" memories.
Not to mention, Zonko's Joke Shop was always packed. One could imagine how popular it would be if the Weasley twins opened a shop in Hogsmeade.
"I have to open a shop in Hogsmeade," Draco thought, watching his twin brothers' faces gradually light up.
This decision was made not only because of emotional attachment but also because of many practical benefits.
The two brothers were very enthusiastic about developing new products, and the quantity of raw materials and new products was increasing daily, so they needed a safe place to store them.
Placing them in a crowded boys' dormitory would inevitably disturb others. Moreover, the process of developing new products was full of risks, and if the two brothers weren't careful, they might turn "Fred and George's Fireworks" into "Fred and George Blow Up Gryffindor Tower."
Those dangerous experimental materials shouldn't be in that area—a little girl lived in Gryffindor Tower, Draco thought worriedly.
Opening a shop in Hogsmeade would provide a stable and secure place to store goods, offer the twins a well-equipped product development facility, and attract more customers.
In this way, their market would no longer be limited to Hogwarts—any wizard who came to Hogsmeade to shop could be a potential customer.
There was also a bit of Draco's personal motive involved.
Having a place to stay in Hogsmeade was very important. If Hogwarts were to fall to the Death Eaters again someday, they would need a place nearby where they could catch their breath.
"In my memory, all the shops in good locations are already taken." George rolled his eyes and said with interest, "The remaining empty shops either have poor locations or have rents that are too high."
"It's all right. Hogsmeade is a small village, so we don't have to choose the busiest street. I'm worried that a place that's too busy would be too conspicuous and attract the professors' attention—Professor McGonagall probably wouldn't want to see you doing business in your spare time, would she?" Draco said.
The two brothers stuck out their tongues at him, agreeing with his guess.
"As long as we can establish brand awareness in the early stages, things will be much easier later on—good wine needs no bush," Draco mused.
"Regarding brand awareness—when we open, we can target our advertising and flyers on the main streets, and even expand our brand awareness through word of mouth among wizards. Over time, customers who are interested in our products will naturally seek us out," George said confidently.
George Weasley did have good business sense, Draco thought with a bit of surprise, and nodded approvingly at him.
Fred picked up the thread. "If we're not overly concerned about the location on the main road, I do have an idea. A while ago, we found an empty shop near the Shrieking Shack."
Draco raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"Although it's a bit far from the main road, there are clothing shops and tearooms nearby, so there's some foot traffic and it's not exactly desolate. The exact location is on the road behind the Three Broomsticks..." George perked up and began to analyze the feasibility of the idea.
On the road behind the Three Broomsticks... Draco rummaged through his mind and retrieved a few vague memories.
Yes, that was true.
In his past life, there had indeed been a dilapidated building standing there, which had remained empty and unopened for many years.
Opening a shop here wasn't out of the question. Draco remained silent, his eyes fixed on the marshland rushing past the window, listening to George's incessant analysis, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the table for a while.
"It should be feasible." After a pause, Draco finally said, "Next time you go, you might as well check out the location, advantages and disadvantages, and rent."
"Of course." George rubbed his hands together happily.
"Ah, I really didn't expect this," Fred said happily. "My dream came true so quickly—it caught me completely off guard..."
George also wore a look of readiness to give it his all. "Actually, we've had this idea for a while, but we were afraid of moving too fast. Having our own shop, researching these interesting things every day—what could be better than that—"
"You need to understand one thing. We have enough funds to hire staff, and you'll still need to attend school before you graduate," Draco reminded them.
"Going to school is nothing compared to running a shop! This is totally our cup of tea," the twin brothers said in unison.
"I know your ambitions don't lie in a Hogwarts diploma or O.W.L. results. However, your brilliant ideas need a solid foundation of magical knowledge." Draco looked out the carriage window at the rows of trees rushing by, and could vaguely make out a corner of the Black Lake in the distance. "Many of your inventions currently have room for improvement, which means your application of magical knowledge isn't yet perfect, is it? Why not take advantage of your studies to absorb the wisdom of the Hogwarts professors? Free, high-quality resources should never be wasted."
Once you left Hogwarts, you wouldn't be able to talk to those professors casually, nor would they be able to impart knowledge to you so easily.
Could you imagine a Potions Master like Severus Snape casually agreeing to mentor children who weren't particularly gifted?
If it weren't for this teaching position, he probably wouldn't even glance at some of his clumsy students.
Neville Longbottom, I'm talking about you, you foolish student who's always causing trouble! Draco thought bitterly.
"That's true." Fred made a face at him and said with a grin, "So we're still going to school."
"All right, all right, we know you're the top student in your year, and you've been dragging our top student to the library every day... Don't worry, we haven't fallen behind in our studies much." George chuckled. "Of course, we have to admit, some courses are more to our liking..."
How did George know? Their joint study sessions in the library were always kept secret—George might be spying.
Ignoring that remark, Draco continued with a stern face. "If you only focus on opening shops and don't get your O.W.L. certification, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley might think you're neglecting your duties..."
"That's true. I can already imagine the look of utter despair on Mum's face if she knew we were determined to go into business, instead of having grand ambitions like Percy... she might even disown us," Fred said, spreading his hands innocently.
"Without the understanding and support of family, it's not good for the long-term development of the shop," Draco said.
"All right, we've learned our lesson. Don't be so serious like an old man, always lecturing people," George said lazily. "We'll also check out that shop first, do some research."
"Very good. If only I could go to Hogsmeade." Draco sighed. "I really want to see that shop in person."
Draco wasn't allowed to visit Hogsmeade yet. Only students in third year or above, with their guardian's signature, were permitted to visit Hogsmeade on specific open days.
Draco, a second-year, was helpless in the face of this. For the Weasley twins, however, it was no obstacle at all—they were about to enter fourth year.
"We know a way," the Weasley brothers said in unison, exchanging a glance.
"What?" Draco was completely bewildered.
"Behind the mirror on the fourth floor of Hogwarts, there's a secret passage that leads directly to Hogsmeade..." Fred said mysteriously.
"There's loads of space inside—you could even throw a party in there." George winked at him. "We've hidden lots of products in there."
The train was slowly pulling into Hogsmeade Station—the final stop on the Hogwarts Express. Students would disembark here and walk along the lakeside path into Hogwarts.
"A secret passage? Why have I never heard of it before?" Draco was extremely surprised.
If there was a secret passage that led from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade—they must make good use of it!
In a critical moment, how many students' lives could be saved?
However, the twins gave him a mischievous smile, deliberately keeping him in suspense. When the train arrived at the station, they patted Draco on the shoulder and left the compartment arm in arm.
After a two-second pause, Draco opened the compartment door and chased after them, finally abandoning his usual composed demeanor. "Wait... Fred, George, tell me a bit more, give me another hint... Which mirror?"
Ron, who was about to step out of the compartment, was startled when he opened the door.
He watched as a figure with platinum-blond hair swept past him, as swift as the wind.
He followed the boy a few steps and looked out of the train door at the platform, where he discovered something even more astonishing.
"Merlin's beard! Harry, Hermione, look—is that Draco?" He pointed to the boy on the platform who was practically bouncing around chasing the Weasley twins and asked, "He can be so undignified? I have to admire Fred and George... they did what I wanted to do but couldn't."
Harry jumped off the train, shrugged at Ron, and smiled silently. He turned to Hermione, whose eyes were wide with surprise, and said, "I told you, you didn't need to worry about him at all. See, they're getting along brilliantly..."