firecracker ???

1-4

"You're lucky I like you."

"I'm lucky Mother loves me more."

"I heard that," Narcissa said.

"I said it for you," Elestara replied.

The platform around them bustled louder now as whistles blew and trunks were heaved aboard. Steam hissed from beneath the train wheels as they boarded. Crabbe and Goyle had already secured a spacious compartment—large enough for all of them, warded for privacy. Inside, familiar voices met them before the door slid open.

"There you are," Pansy called from the corner where she sat pressed against Daphne. "We were starting to think your father had locked you in the vaults."

Daphne gave a little wave, already unwrapping a sweet. Blaise Zabini looked up from his seat beside Theo Nott, raising his hand lazily in greeting.

"Buongiorno, Stella," Blaise said with an elegant smirk.

Theo added without looking up, "He's been insufferable since breakfast."

Elestara stepped in smoothly, chin high. "And you've been reading that same chapter since last week."

Draco greeted them all in turn, clapping Theo on the back, bumping fists with Blaise, nodding toward Crabbe and Goyle who stood guard beside the door.

They all exchanged updates, traded minor complaints, eyed each other's new robes, and slipped easily back into the unspoken rhythm formed in childhood. There was laughter, a few sarcastic remarks, and someone summoned a deck of cards from a trunk.

Elestara asked about Astoria almost immediately.

"France," Daphne sighed. "Still."

"She hates it," Pansy added. "Misses you most, obviously. Sent a letter this morning."

Elestara nodded once. "I'll write back tonight."

They settled into their familiar seating arrangement. Elestara beside Theo, Blaise beside Draco, Daphne and Pansy curled together like lounging cats by the window. Crabbe and Goyle resumed their silent guard.

Outside, the last calls rang out and trunks thudded into place.

A few moments passed.

Then Draco stood abruptly.

"Come on," he said.

Elestara looked up. "Where?"

"To find Potter," he said. "I know it's him. I want to talk to him properly this time."

"Why do I have to come?"

"Because Father said to make a good impression, and I can't look like a stray Kneazle wandering around alone. Besides, he might be less rude with a girl present."

Theo snorted softly from behind his book.

"Fine," Elestara sighed, rising with her usual poise. She stepped beside Draco and offered her hand without looking at him. He took it. Public etiquette.

They left the compartment. Draco led the way, eyes scanning each window with vague calculation. Elestara walked at his side, her hand in his, letting him lead but casting a sharp eye over each face they passed.

Finally, near the fourth carriage from the front, he stopped. Inside, the same dark-haired boy from the robe shop sat beside a red-haired boy—Weasley, clearly. They were talking over a stack of sweets and laughing.

Draco slid the door open.

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

Harry nodded.

"Oh, this is Elestara. My sister. And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Harry gave a polite nod, but his gaze drifted slightly—and rested longer on Elestara than necessary.

Ron let out a slight cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Draco turned his attention on him. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are 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.

Harry looked at it. Then back at Elestara.

Then back to Draco. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."

Elestara narrowed her eyes. "You're quite confident for someone who still has chocolate on his face. Come on, Draco—he's clearly a waste of time."

She tugged gently on her brother's hand.

Draco gave Potter one last look, lowered his hand, and turned without another word.

Back in their compartment, the others looked up as they returned.

"Well?" Pansy asked, eyes glittering.

Draco dropped into his seat. "Saint Potter thinks he's clever."

"So you didn't cry?" Theo asked.

"Shut it."

Elestara sat beside him, smoothing her skirt, expression unreadable. But her lips twitched slightly.

Potter, she decided, was at least mildly interesting.

And mildly irritating for looking down on the Malfoys.

However, he had ticked off Draco. The most interesting of it all.