The first of September dawned crisp and cool, and I found myself hurrying toward King’s Cross Station. I tugged at the hem of my favorite skull tee, paired with faded purple jeans and well-worn blue high-top Converse. A small bag held everything I needed for the term; the rest was already secured with my family’s arrangements.
As I neared the platform, I spotted Draco Malfoy standing near the barrier to Platform 9 ¾. He glanced at me with an expression of something akin to longing, a silent question in his eyes as he noticed my small bag. He wore a thin, almost translucent white tee, and I couldn’t help but notice how his physique seemed… developed for an eleven-year-old.
“He’s eleven, how does he already have abs?” I muttered under my breath, more to myself than anyone else.
“Pardon, sweetie?” my mother asked, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Nothing, Mum,” I replied quickly, hugging her tightly. “I’m going to miss you.” I turned and walked toward Draco.
“Hey, [y/n]!” he called out, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
“Oh, um, hi!” I responded shyly, my gaze fixed on his tee shirt. He blushed, and we walked through the wall together, finding ourselves on the bustling platform where the Hogwarts Express waited.
“Hey, do you want to sit with me and a few of my friends?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck and blushing again.
“Sure!” I replied, smiling and feeling my own cheeks flush with color.
~*~
“Anything from the trolley?” the trolley witch asked cheerfully.
“Two jelly slugs and a chocolate frog,” Draco said, then turned to me. “Want anything, [y/n]? I’ll pay.”
“Since you’re offering, maybe a chocolate frog…” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
~*~
Draco’s two companions sat across from us, their faces blank and silent. The silence stretched, thick with awkwardness.
“So, [y/n],” one of them, Gregory, finally spoke, “I heard you’re a pureblood… is that true?”
“Uh, yeah,” I replied awkwardly, avoiding his gaze.
The two boys abruptly left the compartment, leaving Draco and me alone. He scooted closer, taking both of my hands in his. I looked up into his icy blue-gray eyes, mesmerized as they fixed on my own [e/c] eyes.
“Please tell me you’re going to be sorted into Slytherin,” he whispered.
“I’m a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, so yeah, most likely,” I replied, watching his eyes widen with surprise. He slowly lowered my hands and said, “You’re related to… Voldemort? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!”
~*~
The boys hadn’t returned, and Draco and I had both changed into our robes. We’d spent the journey getting to know each other, sharing hushed confidences and tentative smiles.
~*~
With a lurch, the train came to a stop.
“First years this way,” a large man called, his voice booming.
“Hello, Hagrid,” a raven-haired boy said, walking toward the front of the carriage.
“Hi Hagrid,” said the boy, his hair dark as a raven’s wing.
“Follow me to the Great Hall, first years.” Hagrid’s booming voice echoed through the carriage as he led the first years off the train and into the unknown.