"Do you... do you want me to contact my aunty?" asked Susan, her face getting redder the longer she spoke. "If I tell her about this I'm sure she can help deal with this matter..." she trailed off, her face turning nearly as red as her hair when Harry gave her the first genuine smile he'd had all day.
"Thank you," he told her sincerely. "But there's no need to worry..." he paused, wondering if he should continue, before figuring there wasn't much they could say that would give away what he was doing so long as he didn't let them know what he had planned. "I already have a plan put into motion that should solve this problem nicely, so there's no need to concern yourself over it, though I do appreciate the offer."
"You're welcome," Susan whispered softly, looking almost like she wanted to both shrink in her seat and bask in Harry's smile at the same time.
The good mood that had begun to permeate the compartment would have continued, but at that moment, the compartment door slid open and in walked three boys.
Harry knew from the moment he glanced at them that these three would likely be trouble. The one in front was the obvious leader; a boy with slicked back blond hair, blue eyes, and a narrow chin. He didn't look like much, and truth be told Harry was more worried about the two much larger boys standing on either side of him. The term guerillas seemed to fit them both well; they were large, easily towering over the blond boy, and probably around a half a head taller than Harry, and that said nothing about their girth. Both of them were wearing rather stupid expressions on their faces, which Harry took as them trying to look intimidating.
They reminded him of Dudley.
"Is it true?" The one in the middle asked. "They're all saying that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"
"Yes," said Harry, wondering who had informed this boy that he was in his compartment. It wasn't like he had told anyone. Then again, he hadn't made much of an effort to hide his scar, and a lot of people had been staring when he was walking down the hall.
"My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," the boy introduced himself. He then gestured behind him carelessly. "And this is Crabbe and Goyle."
"Ah, then you would be the heir to the Malfoy family, yes?" Harry asked, tilting his head with just a touch of inquisitiveness. He had heard a great deal about the Malfoy family from Andromeda. According to her, they were a family to watch out for and not ones to be crossed lightly.
"I see you've heard of me," Draco preened under the knowledge that Harry knew who he was.
"We've all heard of you, Malfoy," Hannah said with more than just a little disdain. "You're the son of a cockroach. Now why don't you bugger off!"
"And just who are you?" Draco asked with a sneer. "Some uppity little witch with no pedigree? You should learn to show respect in the presence of your betters!"
Hannah opened her mouth to retort, however, Susan gripped the girls arm. "Don't," the redhead hushed the girl softly. Hannah looked at her friend for a second, before sighing and deciding to heed Susan's advice.
Draco leered at the two girls, then turned his attention back to Harry. "You'll find that some wizard families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
As Draco Malfoy held out his hand, the raven-haired young man with the lightning bolt scar went over what had just happened in his mind and come to several conclusions.
The first was that this Draco was arrogant, a bully, and one of those people who held onto the belief that those of pure and noble blood were better than other witches and wizards out of principle. This was not unexpected, considering what Andromeda had told him about the boy's father, though the woman had hoped the son of her estranged sister would have been brought up better.
The second was that Draco Malfoy wanted his allegiance. For what purpose, Harry didn't know. Then again, just by being able to say he was friends with the boy-who-lived was enough of a reason to want an allegiance.
Harry's mind worked at light speeds as he tried to figure out what he should do to quell this situation before things went south. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite sure what to do. He did not want to form an alliance with Draco Malfoy, not only because of the boy's apparent disdain for people he believed were beneath his station, but also because forming an alliance with a family like the Malfoy's meant many other possible allegiances he could gain later in the future would become closed off to him.
"What do you mean there are some wizard families who are better than others?" asked Harry, adding just the right inflection of curiosity to make the question seem innocuous. It was a stalling tactic, he knew. Hopefully the blond boy wouldn't be keen enough to pick up on it.
Fortunately for Harry, Draco did not seem to realize this and began speaking with great enthusiasm. "Those families of pure blood who have power and know how to use it are, of course, better than some no name family with not a knut to their name. Naturally, my family is quite powerful; my father even has the ears of the Minister."
"You mean your father bought the ears of the Minister," Hannah replied snidely before Susan could stop her.
Watching Draco's face turn pink at the insult, Harry decided he needed to nip this in the bud before it came to blows. "You've given me much to think about," he told Draco in a very serious voice. "Perhaps some other time we can discuss this at greater length."
"Of course," Draco Malfoy replied, his pleasure at hearing that Harry was at least thinking about his offer seemed to make him forget about Hannah's comment. "I look forward to speaking with you more."
Draco and his two henchmen left. Harry turned to Hannah and said, "you really should be a little more careful with what you say. That situation could have easily devolved into violence if I hadn't appeased Draco in some way."
"Why should I have to be careful with my words around that jerk?" Hannah asked with, from what Harry had seen so far, uncharacteristic anger.
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