King's Cross Station, Platform 9¾.
The platform teemed with students laden with large and small bags, scarves of every house color intermingling in the crowd as temporary boundaries dissolved.
The students focused only on waving farewell to their families and exchanging promises to reunite during the holidays.
Henry moved through the throng unburdened; Lucy had collected his suitcase long ago, leaving him free to navigate the crowd with ease.
"Henry!"
A familiar voice called out from behind him. He turned to find Draco striding toward him, Crabbe and Goyle flanking his sides.
Draco wore a brand-new dark gray coat with his platinum blonde hair meticulously combed, though his expression seemed rather listless, the telltale sign of post-holiday lethargy settling in.
"Draco," Henry greeted him with a nod. "Did you have a good holiday?"
"Not bad," Draco replied, then his expression shifted to one of unmistakable smugness. "My father purchased a new broom for me, a Nimbus 2001, the latest model. It's considerably faster than Potter's."
"Congratulations," Henry said with a smile, already wondering whether he should consider upgrading his own broom.
The train whistle sounded its departure call, and students reluctantly filed aboard. Henry and Draco claimed an empty compartment, settling into their seats just as Pansy and Daphne arrived and settled themselves opposite them.
"How was your holiday?" Pansy asked immediately. "My father specially procured something called a 'television' so I could watch BBC programs."
Pansy's words shifted the entire atmosphere of the compartment palpably.
"Television?" Draco raised his eyebrows with clear disdain. "Your father acquired a Muggle... uh, that thing?"
Realizing his words had come across poorly, he quickly turned to Henry with an apologetic expression.
"He didn't merely acquire one," Pansy corrected, her eyes sparkling with conviction. "He specifically obtained one because he said that since His Highness resides in the Muggle world, we should at least understand what sort of world His Highness inhabits."
She turned toward Henry, her curiosity evident. "Your Highness, you typically stay at... what do you call it again, Buckingham Palace?"
"I stay at Sandringham House during the holidays," Henry clarified. "Buckingham Palace is where my grandmother carries out her official duties."
"Sandringham House?" Daphne asked with genuine interest. "Is it an estate?"
"Yes," Henry confirmed with a nod.
Pansy leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Is it large? I mean, is it bigger or smaller than Malfoy Manor?"
"The size should be comparable," Henry replied with a slight smile. "Though the architectural styles differ somewhat. I'd say Sandringham House tends more toward the traditional."
"Traditional?" Draco's eyes brightened with sudden interest. "What sort of tradition?"
Henry observed the shift in Draco's expression and recognized the appeal that word carried for these pure-blood family scions.
They had grown up immersed in their families' histories and possessed an almost instinctive yearning for established rules and traditions.
"Our family has maintained Sandringham House as our regular winter residence since approximately 1862, during King Edward VII's reign," Henry explained thoughtfully. "We reside there from Christmas through around February 6th each year. This year proved exceptional since school began earlier than usual."
The compartment gradually grew livelier as the train departed. Snack vendors pushed their carts past the windows, some students chased one another through the corridors, and others exchanged animated accounts of holiday adventures.
Compartment doors opened and closed rhythmically as acquaintances peered in to exchange greetings.
Pansy continued her discourse on television, her enthusiasm for the subject evident in her animated manner. "My father mentioned that on a news program, you and your family appeared together looking particularly dignified."
"Dignified?" Henry asked with interest.
"Yes," Pansy nodded. "He said you all looked exceedingly well-mannered. Unlike those—"
She paused, seemingly recognizing that her intended comment might prove inappropriate.
"Unlike those what?" Draco pressed, evidently curious about her unfinished thought.
Pansy glanced at him, then at Henry, before continuing in a low voice. "Unlike some wizarding families..."
Draco didn't respond, though his expression clearly indicated his agreement with the unstated comparison.
Henry chose not to correct her; everyone held their own beliefs, and as long as they didn't interfere with him, such opinions remained their own.
Noting the awkward silence settling over the compartment, Pansy quickly shifted topics. "By the way, my father also commented that the fellow they call the 'Prime Minister' appeared rather unremarkable."
"Unremarkable?" Daphne asked for clarification.
"Yes," Pansy nodded. "He said he had never anticipated a Muggle Prime Minister would resemble an ordinary old neighbor next door."
Henry smiled genuinely at this description; Mr. Harker would likely find such a comment rather amusing.
"Your father has met the Prime Minister?" Draco inquired.
"No," Pansy said. "I saw him on television."
"How does he compare to Fudge?" Draco pressed further.
"I'm not certain," Pansy admitted, shaking her head. "I've never encountered the Minister in person, but I imagine he must be quite capable."
Harker had indeed proven himself one of the finest prime ministers since the Second World War. The comparison with Fudge struck Henry as rather unfair.
"Speaking of the Minister," Pansy continued, "my father mentioned that matters at the Ministry of Magic have grown somewhat unsettled lately."
Henry's attention sharpened immediately. "Unsettled?"
"Yes," Pansy lowered her voice further. "He said Mr. Fudge has been removing people, replacing disobedient senior officials with younger wizards who demonstrate greater obedience."
Draco nodded in agreement. "My father confirmed as much. Fudge has restructured several key positions within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"My father believes he's consolidating his power," Daphne added quietly.
Henry absorbed this information carefully. Fudge was indeed consolidating authority, which simultaneously signaled his growing insecurity about his position.
The fact that he seemed to desperately require additional support made this observation all the more significant.
"Your Highness?" Pansy's voice drew Henry back to the present moment.
Henry looked toward her attentively.
"What were you thinking about?" Pansy asked curiously.
Henry shook his head with a slight smile. "Nothing of consequence."
He redirected the conversation. "What else did your father mention?"
Pansy reflected for a moment before responding. "He also said that Mr. Fudge has referenced you several times recently."
This revelation noticeably altered the atmosphere within the compartment.
Daphne's brow furrowed. "Several times?"
"So it appears," Draco added, his tone becoming more serious. "Fudge even inquired of my father regarding our relationship, how well we actually get along."
The signal was unmistakable enough to warrant careful consideration. Sir Arnold had once observed that politicians invariably acted with purpose behind every gesture. If Fudge was laying groundwork now, it signified something more substantial planned for the future.
"And what did your father tell him?" Henry asked, maintaining his composure.
"That we got along exceptionally well," Draco replied, "and that you were genuinely worth having as a friend. And that wasn't the entirety of it."
Pansy drew a soft breath beside him, while Daphne's gaze shifted back and forth between Henry and Draco, evidently pondering the deeper implications beneath those words.
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Early chapters: [email protected]/palevolt100