Pandora Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Fourteen: Harry Potter

I watched the scenery rushing past outside — first houses, then fields full of cows and sheep — only vaguely listening to the conversation in the compartment. In fact, I didn't engage with the others until about half past twelve, when there was a great clattering in the corridor, and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back the compartment door and said, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

I looked around eagerly, catching Draco's eye. He nodded, then got up and went into the corridor, soon returning with armfuls of sweets and chocolates.

"I got some for everyone," he said, piling them all on the empty space in the middle of his bench-seat. "But the Fizzing Whizzbees are for Pandora only."

He rolled his eyes, and I beamed. Fizzing Whizzbees were my absolute favourite wizarding sweet, despite the rumours that they contained dried Billywig stings. They were large balls of sherbet, and they caused you to float a few inches off the ground as you ate them. I liked other sweets too, of course, but not as much.

There was a lull in the conversation as we all grabbed the things we wanted. I made sure to only take a couple of things in addition to my Fizzing Whizzbees, leaving the others with plenty to share between them.

"Do you know what people are saying?" Draco said, opening a chocolate frog box and inspecting the card within.

We all shook our heads, and Crabbe and Goyle looked even more stupid than normal as they tried to think.

"Apparently, Harry Potter is just down the train," he said. "I knew he was starting this year, of course, but I thought he might have arrived a different way."

"I heard he went to live with Muggles," Pansy said scornfully.

"I don't see why that should change anything," I said, before I could stop myself. Then, I hurriedly tried to cover my tracks by adding, "I mean — he was a baby, wasn't he? He didn't exactly have a choice."

"I suppose," Pansy conceded.

I finally slipped a Fizzing Whizzbee into my mouth, smiling as the familiar lightness washed over me and I started to float upwards.

"I really don't know why you like those things," Daphne said, speaking for the first time in a while. "Don't you know they have dried Billywig stings in them? They're awfully bad for you."

"Lots of sweets contain gelatin, which is just animal skin, cartilage, or bones that've been boiled for ages," I said, having to move the Fizzing Whizzbee into my cheek so I could speak clearly. "I can't see why that's any different."

Daphne went a little green and put down the packet of jelly slugs she'd been holding.

We spent a surprisingly enjoyable time eating our sweets, talking about Hogwarts, and swapping chocolate frog cards. The others even managed to avoid any outright bigotry, which was an achievement in itself. The countryside flew past the windows, now more wild than before, with large woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

Then there was a knock on the door, and I came back to Earth with a bump (and not just because I'd finished my latest Fizzing Whizzbee).

Hermione was standing in the now open doorway, already wearing her Hogwarts robes, with a tearful, round-faced boy at her side. I widened my eyes at her and made a subtle motion to remind her not to let on that we already knew each other. She gave me the tiniest nod.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said, her voice rather more bossy than I was used to.

Pansy gave her a withering look, and Draco seemed to have some sort of slur on the tip of his tongue — until he caught sight of the look on my face, that is.

"No," I said shortly. "Now get out of our compartment."

"Oh, but—" she started.

I gave her a significant look, then surreptitiously nodded my head towards Draco, causing a flicker of understanding to appear on her face. I could tell that she'd worked out who he was, and what I was trying to tell her.

"Out," I said again, and this time she complied, closing the door behind her.

Sighing quietly, I put another Fizzing Whizzbee into my mouth, getting lost in thought and blocking out everything around me.

***

"Dora. Dora! Dora!"

I looked around suddenly as I realised someone was calling my name.

"Your hair's gone blue," Draco said.

I grabbed a lock of my hair and pulled it over my shoulder, making an irritated noise as I saw that it had indeed gone a pale blue. I quickly changed it back to normal, glancing out of the window as I did so. It was a little darker out there now, and the others had all changed into their robes.

"Chuck me my robes, Dray," I said.

He threw them at me, and I caught them easily. I quickly took my jumper off and pulled my robes over my head in one fluid movement, so practiced at getting dressed in this way that I knew nobody would've seen the scars and bruises on my arms.

"I'm going to talk to Harry Potter," Draco announced, standing up. "Crabbe, Goyle, come with me."

"I'm coming too," I said, wanting to meet the famous Boy Who Lived just as much as Draco did.

We left the compartment, Draco and I first, then Crabbe and Goyle behind us. When we were almost at the end of the train, Draco slid one of the compartment doors open, and we all walked in.

Two boys were sitting there, with piles of sweets around them. One of them had bright red hair and a face covered in freckles, and the other — my heart skipped a beat as I realised — the other was the boy we'd spoken to in Madam Malkin's!

"Is it true?" Draco asked. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," Harry said, looking behind us, at Crabbe and Goyle.

"Oh, this is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," Draco said carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and this is my sister Pandora."

I smiled slightly, and Harry smiled back at the same time as the red-haired boy coughed, which I was sure had hidden a snigger. I gave him a careful, calculating look, quickly coming to the conclusion that he was from the Weasley family Father liked to complain about. Draco looked at him too.

"Think our name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. Our father told us all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

"Dray, you're being a git again," I said, rolling my eyes.

The Weasley boy definitely did snigger this time. Draco sneered at him, then turned to Harry.

"You'll soon find out 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."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," Harry said coolly.

Draco didn't go red — he never did — but a pink tinge appeared on his cheeks. I recognised the signs of his anger at once.

"Draco..." I said warningly, but he ignored me.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer, you'll go the same way as your parents."

"Draco."

"They didn't know what was good for them, either," he continued, ignoring me again. "You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

"Draco," I repeated, as Harry and Weasley both stood up, the latter's face as red as his hair.

"Say that again."

***
Word count: 1316