Wizards of noble status were rarely seen in public. More accurately, they didn’t casually show up on Muggle streets or in Muggle buildings, and certainly didn’t use Muggle transportation or technology.
In fact, aside from the Weasleys—who didn’t look aristocratic at all—and the Malfoy and Parkinson families, who doted on their children, there weren’t any other adult wizards at the station dressed with the air of nobility.
Most preferred to leave these tasks to their family stewards or followers...
So when the Malfoys stood alongside Pansy’s parents, the group naturally drew attention. Their distinctive attire and imposing presence alone made them the center of focus.
If it hadn’t been for Goyle and the others’ fathers standing nearby like bodyguards, a crowd of curious wizards might have already approached them, hoping to make small talk.
This scene happened to catch the eye of Hermione and her companions just as they stepped off the express train...
The mont she got off, Hermione was imdiately drawn to the striking group in the distance.
“Is that Draco’s family?”
She looked toward Draco’s direction with curiosity. There was no need to guess—it was easy to tell who his family was.
Lucius Malfoy’s pale blond hair aside, his aristocratic bearing alone made it obvious he was the current head of the Malfoy family.
And the beautiful woman with golden hair and porcelain skin needed no introduction—she had Draco in a warm embrace. The resigned, mildly exasperated look on Draco’s face made Hermione curl her lips into a faint smile.
She never expected the boy who always bullied her to look so helpless.
“Hermione?”
Following behind her was Harry, recently hailed as a hero.
Since the night of the end-of-term feast, Harry Potter had clearly grown more confident, and now he followed Hermione’s gaze with a curious expression of his own.
“That’s...”
“That’s Lucius Malfoy! A dark wizard!”
Before Harry could finish, Ron, who had arrived alongside them, blurted out his own take on the man standing beside Draco—an introduction that was anything but friendly.
“Malfoy... isn’t he—”
“Exactly, he’s one of the Death Eaters!”
“A Death Eater... one of the accomplices who murdered my parents.”
Staring hard at the pale blond figure in the distance—whose expression wasn’t clearly visible—Harry murmured under his breath, one hand pressed against his lightning-shaped scar, which had begun to burn slightly.
Neither Hermione nor Ron noticed Harry’s reaction. They were both waving to soone further ahead.
Their families had co to pick them up...
Unlike the warm and exuberant Weasley family, Hermione’s parents looked a bit awkward and reserved. After all, they were just “ordinary people.”
Though the two families had already t back in Diagon Alley, the Weasleys’ overwhelming friendliness—much like their bright red hair—still left Hermione and her parents feeling a little self-conscious.
Especially since Hermione was well aware that her relationship with Ron was... far from friendly.
“Mr. Granger, did you drive here?”
“Uh... yes.”
“I’ve been trying to tinker with so Muggle cars myself. Thought you might have a few tips.”
“Arthur! This is not the ti or place to talk about things like that!”
“Sorry, Molly... I just...”
When it ca down to it, Ron’s father, Arthur Weasley, seed more fascinated by Muggle things than magic itself.
Ron, clearly used to it, just shrugged at Harry and offered a bit of an explanation.
“Actually, the Ministry of Magic doesn’t allow stuff like that. The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office was created specifically to deal with it.”
Harry nodded, sowhat understanding, though Ron conveniently left out one detail—his own father, who loved Muggle inventions and even modified a car himself, actually worked in that very office.
No wonder his mum was so mad. Knowing the rules and still breaking them—then blurting it out in public—was a fast track to fines, or worse, losing a job at the Ministry.
Still, Harry and the others weren’t really focused on that. Their attention was fixed on Draco.
More specifically, on Lucius Malfoy and Karnov Parkinson...
“Ron, do you know who that guy next to Malfoy is?”
Ron gave Harry a puzzled glance, but sothing seed to click for him, and the next mont, he answered knowingly.
“Of course. That’s Karnov Parkinson. He owns a bunch of businesses in the wizarding world. I’d bet anything—he’s another Death Eater.”
Unlike Lucius Malfoy, there was no concrete evidence tying Karnov Parkinson to the Death Eaters. But thanks to his ruthless business tactics and close association with the Malfoys, his reputation had always been murky. Rumors about him being a Death Eater had circulated for years.
Glancing at his father—who was still being scolded by his mother—Ron lowered his voice.
“I’m telling you, they’re definitely up to sothing.”
“Do you think it has anything to do with Voldem—You-Know-Who?”
“Harry, I think we should help Dumbledore keep an eye on them!”
It seed all that House Cup glory had gone to Ron’s head—he was starting to get carried away.
Hermione, who had been quietly listening, now looked between them with a baffled expression.
Her subtle reaction didn’t go unnoticed, and both Harry and Ron turned to her.
“Well? What do you think?”
“What do I think?”
“Hermione, you’re the smartest one here. You must have so idea.”
“...”
Hermione blinked, then rubbed her temples in exasperation, confirming she hadn’t misheard.
Ron being an idiot was nothing new. His deep-rooted dislike of Draco made his suspicions understandable, if not logical. But why was Harry getting swept up in it too?
Watching as Harry kept sneaking glances toward Draco—and the girl standing beside him—Hermione realized sothing.
Ever since the showdown over the Philosopher’s Stone, Harry had changed.
He seed more confident now... but there was sothing a little hollow about it. Sothing off.
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