The platinum-haired boy's question was, in fact, an absolute statement. It was clear he had already confirmed Harry's identity before he arrived.
Standing beside the platinum-haired boy were two short, portly lads, one on each side like a pair of burly bodyguards. It was worth noting that both of them were particularly unappealing to look at.
"Oh, this is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," the boy said, giving Harry a casual introduction to his two hangers-on. He then introduced himself in a strangely stilted manner. "My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
Dudley recalled attending a few so-called high-society parties for his business, and he remembered a fellow who claimed to be the descendant of some viscount using a similar tone. Unfortunately, the platinum-haired boy was too young, and his tone wasn't quite right. It came off as rather comical, causing Ron to let out a little cough to stifle a laugh.
Malfoy shot a sideways glance at Ron. "Do you find my name amusing?" His voice dripped with condescension. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."
That air of superiority was so thick that even the normally quiet Neville Longbottom could sense it. He wanted to stick up for Ron but, seeing Crabbe and Goyle, his naturally timid nature and dislike of trouble made him swallow his words.
After insulting Ron, Malfoy turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
His eyes seemingly passed over Neville and Ron, though the crowded compartment and the angle prevented him from seeing Dudley and Hermione. He then extended his hand to Harry, seemingly offering a handshake. However, the inherent superiority and arrogance in his demeanor made it feel like a condescending gesture, as if he were saying, I am doing you a favor.
I was too quick to judge. When it comes to being rude, I, Dudley, crown you the master.
If Hermione's mannerisms were just slightly off-putting, Malfoy's were a direct insult.
"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself," Harry said, his voice cold, with no intention of shaking hands. Ron had just praised Dudley, and this Malfoy fellow had insulted him. Anyone who praised Dudley was, in Harry Potter's mind, a brother from another mother. And anyone who insulted Dudley…
A faint blush appeared on Malfoy's pale face. He clearly hadn't expected Harry to refuse him so bluntly and disrespectfully. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said, slowing his speech and adopting his father's threatening tone. "You should be polite, or you'll end up just like your parents. If you hang around with scruffy types like the Weasleys, it'll rub off on you."
He hadn't recognized Neville. And even if he had, he wouldn't have mentioned it. The Longbottoms' standing in the wizarding world was different from the Weasleys', especially since Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, was a well-known and ill-tempered witch.
Malfoy's venomous tone made Harry and Ron stand up. Neville hesitated for a moment but then stood up as well.
Malfoy's two bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, immediately stepped in front of him.
"Why are you so rude?" Hermione's straightforward nature meant she'd speak her mind. Her outburst made Malfoy notice her. He looked her up and down disdainfully.
"And where did you come from?" he sneered. Ignoring Hermione, he continued to mock Harry, "Potter, I can't believe you've already gathered a bunch of freaks around you..."
"Listen, Draco Malfoy," Dudley interrupted, cutting off Malfoy's rant. "If you can't talk like a proper person, don't try. You'll just make yourself look ridiculous."
"Call me Draco Malfoy! Let me see who has the audacity to insult a Malfoy!" Malfoy shouted, turning to face the source of the voice. He then saw the face that had left such a deep impression on him.
"Oh, it's you!" Malfoy instinctively took a step back. This was the man who had made him cry and run out into the street. The memory of it made his face flush with embarrassment. It was an absolute disgrace!
Malfoy's pale face turned crimson as he glared at Dudley. "Crabbe! Goyle! Teach him a lesson!"
He snarled the command, and the two fat boys immediately charged at Dudley. Then, like two little chicks, they were each lifted up by one of Dudley's hands and clapped together like pancakes. They were instantly incapacitated.
It was obvious they had severely underestimated Dudley's strength. While Dudley's magic might not be up to snuff, his brute strength was more than enough to take on any student in all seven years at Hogwarts.
Malfoy had not expected Dudley to be so violent, nor had he expected his bodyguards to be taken care of so easily. He was so terrified he fell to the floor. Dudley slowly walked over to Malfoy and leaned in, as the boy watched in horror.
"Listen, Harry's parents are my aunt and uncle. You insult them, you insult me. I can forgive your ignorance this time, but I don't want there to be a next time."
"Starting today, we're all classmates. I hope we can all get along, okay?"
What else could Malfoy say? He nodded furiously, his head bobbing like a chicken pecking at rice, a stark contrast to his earlier pompous demeanor.
"Now, take your two friends and go."
Hearing Dudley, the three of them scrambled away, disappearing down the corridor.
"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, feeling a sense of satisfaction at seeing Malfoy humiliated. The Weasleys and Malfoys' relationship was beyond simply bad; it was absolutely hostile.
Just then, a vendor pushing a cart passed by. "Any sweets, children?"
As a true tycoon, Harry grandly bought one of everything. The compartment was instantly filled with all sorts of candies, making the young wizards' eyes gleam.
"Why didn't you just beat them up?" Ron asked, his mouth full of sweets. Like Neville, he had unconsciously started using a respectful tone. In fact, every peer except for Hermione and Harry seemed to use a more polite tone when addressing Dudley.
Harry opened a box of Chocolate Frogs. He was surprised to find the little thing moved and, with a moment's inattention, it hopped away. Just as it was about to escape out the window, a quick-handed Dudley snatched it. No food could ever escape from Dudley.
"I hate using brute force; it's too uncivilized. I prefer to subdue others with virtue," Dudley said.
Ron dug his finger into his ear, afraid he had misheard. He stared at Dudley's pearly white teeth and the sound of his chewing. He felt an involuntary shiver.
He hates violence?
Given Dudley's demeanor and actions, that was a truly unconvincing statement.