Rivalries Ignite

Before she could respond, Draco turned on Ron, having caught his actions. "Think my name's funny, don't you? Red hair, freckles, and that disgustingly stupid look you're sporting right now," he sneered, "Why you must be a Weasley."

Instantly, Ron was up. "And you're a Malfoy," he spat.

Then Draco looked at her as if she was dirt on his shoes. Clearly deciding that she wasn't a Pureblood, and therefore not even worth the effort to greet, he spun back to Harry, and said, "You'll soon find that some families are better than the others, Potter. Wouldn't want to go about making friends with the wrong sort, would you? You could do so much better than a Weasley." Draco held out his hand. "I can help you there."

"I think I can tell the wrong sort out by myself, thank you," Harry snapped.

And here, their rivalry starts, thought Cyrna as she happily ticked off the checkpoint. She was so glad her little discourse about Slytherin hadn't caused them to befriend Draco—because if that had happened... well, there went the plot. She may as well hop off the train and beg the Flamels to toss her out of the country.

"Well if I were you, I'd be careful now, Potter. Wouldn't want you to end up with the same… fate as your parents, would you?"

Harry was up on his feet with Ron before he knew it. "You take that back!" Harry snarled and Ron looked equally angry though the slight was not to him.

"You two want to fight?" Draco sneered arrogantly behind Goyle and Crabbe.

"Yeah, unless you leave our compartment. Right. Now," Harry bit out.

This situation might've been serious in the eyes of Ron, Harry, and Draco, but Cyrna found it rather amusing instead. Draco had been mean, cleverly picking at where it hurt, but Cyrna had no stakes in this matter, so it wasn't like she cared. Besides, they were just children who barely knew a few spells. There was no real threat. So, with faint curiosity from watching her first brawl, Cyrna peered at them with a slight smile on her face.

That's when her eyes met Draco's. And instantly, he looked even more annoyed.

Cyrna quickly hid the smile on her face, but the damage was done.

"You think I'm joking?" Draco snapped. His eyes darted towards her lap—Cyrna followed his gaze—"Goyle," he said, deceptively casual, "take that book and rip it."

Despite his size, the boy was quick. Cyrna had just registered what was said before her Potions textbook was out of her lap. There was a sharp crack as the spine was bent, and she saw as Goyle's meaty hands tore her book in half. Cyrna stared with stunned disbelief as the ruined pages slowly drifted to the ground. Then she grew indignant because what the fuck she was just sitting there minding her own business.

With a furious cry, Ron and Harry swung at Goyle in her behalf. Cyrna narrowed her eyes at Draco, who was snickering behind Crabbe. Ron threw another punch at Goyle—but the large boy caught it. Ron gulped and Harry looked as if he was about to pummel the other boy to the ground when a rat suddenly appeared, sinking its teeth into Goyle's meaty hand. With an ugly shriek, Goyle released Ron and flung off the rat.

"Scabbers!" shouted Ron.

Knowing what she knew of the rat, Cyrna didn't give a flying fuck about the rat. What was not fine, was her book.

"I know Professor Snape, our Potions Professor. He'd never let you off if you show up without your textbook," Draco taunted her. "You should know your place. Why don't you ask me nicely, and I'll ask one of my upper-year friends to repair it for you?"

Realizing that Draco wouldn't let her off made her decision very easy. Cyrna gave him the driest look, and then—just as she had done many times with Perenelle—she slipped out her wand and murmured. "Accio. Reparo." Instantly, she could feel the difference from Perenelle's borrowed wand.

She hadn't even noticed before, but it was like wearing glasses that just got you by, versus glasses that had been adjusted perfectly for your vision. The theory was the same, but everything was so much easier. Magic rushed into the wand like it was a missing limb, and it took far less magic to cast the spell. So what Perenelle must have meant by control was just spell efficiency?

Smiling at her observation, Cyrna set her attention back onto Draco who had his own wand out and was about to cast a spell of his own—"Petrificus Totalus," she said before he could speak, limiting her repertoire to first-year spells.

Cyrna stood from her seat, strolling past Crabbe and Goyle who seemed terribly confused now that Draco was no longer there to shout orders at them. Standing over Draco's petrified form, she plucked his wand out of his hand.

"Wow," said Harry, reminding Cyrna that she had an audience.

"That was wicked," Ron said with a grin. He turned to Draco. "Can't do anything now, can you Malfoy?"

Though petrified, Draco wasn't unconscious, and he, quite predictably, looked torn between fear and indignation. Hmm, maybe she could work with that. Cyrna cast the counter spell, watching as Draco tried to run the moment he could move.

"Hold it, Malfoy," Cyrna said mildly before he could leave their compartment.

Draco immediately froze, as if too scared to even twitch. "Y-you just wait till my father hears of this!" he stammered.

Ron snorted and Harry rolled his eyes. Cyrna gave a light sigh. "You mean, you want to report to your father that his perfect pureblood heir, armed with… bodyguards, was troubled by a no-name half-blood? I'm sure your father will find it an exemplary piece of evidence for Pureblood supremacy. I'm sure he wouldn't be disappointed at all, if he were to hear that."

Draco's face slowly paled, clearly thinking of what his father's reaction would be like.

Cyrna added more gently, "Besides, we aren't even allowed to fight on the train, and I'm not particularly fond of the idea of being in trouble before school starts. It'd probably be worse for you because of your father, but I wouldn't want that on me either—though if we were to be questioned by the truth serum—" obviously they wouldn't on such a small scuffle—"I would have no cause for concern."

But you would.

Draco stopped trying to run, his fear leeching out of him as he started to mull over the situation. Either he felt that getting in trouble on the first day of school was not worth it, or he was terrified of his father's disappointment, but he ultimately glared at her and huffed, "Fine. The Malfoy family must be an example for other purebloods to follow. I have no time to get in trouble, nor do I have any time to deal with you second-rate people," Draco said haughtily. He threw them all a petulant glare. "I would recommend you all to watch your backs."

After he finished posturing, Draco promptly dragged Goyle and Crabbe—useless lumps—out the compartment.

"What a prick," said Harry after a heartbeat of silence.

"A right bastard," Ron growled.

Cyrna nodded. What a waste of time. They were almost at Hogwarts, and she hadn't even gotten past her Potions textbook because of him.

....

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