Woo woo~~
Along with the long, echoing whistle of the Hogwarts Express, a faintly awkward silence settled over the compartment.
At least… that was how the little witch who had stepped inside felt. Under the steady gaze of her future classmate—those cool grey eyes paired with an aura far too composed for someone his age—the young witch, who had moments ago been talking without pause, found her eyes drifting away involuntarily.
It wasn't shyness or anger that made her avert her gaze. Rather, after Draco's quiet but sharp "reminder," she had become painfully aware of her earlier rudeness.
For reasons she couldn't name, the apology caught in her throat.
Still, her bright brown eyes refused to back down. She raised her chin ever so slightly, her expression tightening with a stubbornness she barely understood herself.
After a brief silence, Draco lowered his gaze from his book. His eyes flicked first to the figure half-hidden behind the girl—so nervous he barely dared breathe—then back to the witch standing before him.
Compared to his earlier indifference, he now granted them at least a sliver of attention. Perhaps that was why the girl couldn't bring herself to apologize.
Draco's disregard had made her rebellious.
Ignoring whatever tangled thoughts the two intruders carried, Draco lifted the delicate cup beside him and took a sip of the unknown, pale-gold liquid inside—something unmistakably not meant for ordinary eleven-year-olds.
As he moved, the fabric of his exquisite robes, woven from rare wool, shifted with a soft rustle.
Grace.
Poise.
Nobility.
Nothing about the scene felt forced on him, yet to the little witch watching, the urge to blast a spell at his perfectly composed face bubbled up—not that she knew a single offensive spell yet.
Still… she had to admit it. Every gesture he made carried an indescribable, effortless elegance.
What on earth is wrong with this boy?
She didn't realize that, while silently criticizing him, her earlier anxiety—about her first journey into the wizarding world, about leaving home, about everything—had begun to fade under the steadying presence she claimed to dislike.
She opened her mouth, ready to speak, when a timid, wavering voice whispered urgently from behind her.
"H-Hermione… let's get out of here."
"Eh? But Neville, your pet—"
"Let's leave first."
If Hermione hadn't been standing her ground, Neville would have bolted out of the compartment in an instant. If he'd known Draco was here, he would never have dared enter… much less ask whether this elegant, intimidating boy had seen his missing toad.
Neville's odd behavior made Hermione frown. They had only just met, yet the perceptive young witch quickly realized Neville was genuinely afraid of the boy before them.
Concerned, she turned back with a questioning look.
"Do you… know each other?"
"I—I do. But he probably doesn't know me…"
He tried to whisper, but in the small compartment, nothing escaped Draco's ears. Setting his cup down with soft finality, he gave Neville a calm, unreadable look.
"Although our families rarely interact, I know the Longbottom name."
"Huh?!"
Neville Longbottom froze.
While Neville tried to process this, Draco refilled his cup, speaking with the same gentle indifference as before.
"So. Do you have a reason significant enough to justify barging in without knocking?"
The comment made Hermione's cheeks puff in anger.
This boy was not a gentleman.
"Because… m-my toad is missing. I wanted to ask if anyone has seen him."
Whether because Draco was less frightening than Neville first believed, or because he simply had no more breath left for fear, Neville managed to speak without completely falling apart.
Draco held his expectant gaze for a moment, then slowly shook his head.
Whether the shake meant he hadn't seen any disgusting toad-like creature—or that he pitied Neville's taste in pets—was impossible to tell. But either way, the answer was no.
"I-I see… Sorry to bother you. We'll just—"
"Need help?" Draco interrupted calmly. "I know a spell. Provided your toad is still on the train."
"R-really?!"
Both Neville and the sulking little witch beside him turned to Draco with wide, shining eyes—though for very different reasons.
Neville's hope was simple.
Hermione's, however, burned with fierce curiosity.
She wanted to know which spell he would use.
Woo woo~~
Outside, the sky deepened into evening, and the distant silhouette of the castle rose through the darkening clouds. The station drew closer. For most first-years—especially one like Hermione—this moment should have been unforgettable.
But her head was filled with something else entirely.
"Hermione, thank you… for helping me find Ralph."
"Ah—mm…"
She tore her gaze away from the toad in Neville's hands—Ralph—and back toward the carriage door, which remained firmly shut. She stared at it as though she could see through it… as though she were hoping to glimpse a certain elegant boy beyond it.
Neville, thrilled to have recovered his pet, failed to notice her distraction. He simply felt grateful to Draco.
Just like Gran always said—see with your own eyes.
Though he was shocked that Draco Malfoy had recognized him, what surprised him more was that the boy wasn't what other wizards seemed to whisper about.
While Neville quietly processed this, Hermione spoke in a strangely tight voice.
"Neville… that was a wandless spell."
It wasn't quite a question—more like she was desperately hoping she hadn't imagined it.
She had read more than her peers, far more than the typical first-year. She knew exactly what she had seen.
Those techniques weren't in any introductory book.
They weren't within reach of someone their age.
Her eyes widened as she recalled the ease with which Draco had cast the spell—without a wand.
Her fingers curled tightly into her robes.
Was this boy—this elegant, frustrating, infuriating boy—truly a first-year like her?
You're kidding me… right?