---
Harry blinked. "Muggle-born? What's that supposed to an?"
Ron shifted uncomfortably beside him. "Er… it ans their parents aren't wizards. They're born to Muggles."
Harry frowned, rembering the girl's sharp words on the platform.
"Oh, honestly," the girl was saying, her tone crisp and commanding. "Your family's all coming to Hogwarts in a group, aren't they? If your brother doesn't make it onto the train, tell a professor when you arrive — they'll handle it.
But if neither of you gets there, who do you think will help you then?"
Harry had to admit, she had a point.
Before he could say anything, though, Ron scowled.
"That's Becky Greengrass," he muttered. "My brothers ntioned her — she's in Slytherin. Head Girl this year. Has a reputation, that one. They call her the 'Overlord Flower of Hogwarts.' Total pure-blood supremacist. Thinks Muggle-borns and half-bloods should be kicked out of the school."
He frowned, peering out the window. "But why's she hanging around with a Muggle-born? That's not like her at all. Unless… it's so kind of sche."
"Slytherin…" Harry echoed softly.
He'd heard that na before. Back in Diagon Alley, a pale-haired boy had bragged about being sorted there — in that sa smug tone.
"Slytherin's one of the Houses at Hogwarts," Ron explained quickly. "Loads of dark wizards ca from there. Even—" he lowered his voice "—You-Know-Who."
Harry blinked. "You an Voldemort?"
Ron nearly dropped his wand. "You said his na! Bliy, you're brave!"
"Why shouldn't I?" Harry said, genuinely puzzled.
Ron just stared at him, awestruck.
---
anwhile, on the other side of the train, Darren sat wedged uncomfortably in the middle of a group of Slytherins.
He gave a weak smile. "Um… Miss Becky, did you really have to drag here?"
A tall boy with artfully perd blond hair sneered at him. "Why'd you bring a Muggle-born onto our carriage?"
The way he said "Muggle-born" made it sound like an insult.
"Enough, Frank," Becky said icily, twirling her wand between her fingers. "Who I bring is none of your concern. If you don't like it, you can leave."
Frank's mouth snapped shut. So did everyone else's. No one argued with Becky Greengrass.
Darren sighed. "Maybe I should just… go find another seat."
He wanted to look for Harry anyway — to keep up the act of the kind, helpful "holy brother."
Becky rolled her eyes. "Go out there? Malfoy's waiting by the corridor. Do you want to get hexed before the train even moves?"
"Malfoy?" Darren tilted his head, genuinely confused. "Why would he hex ?"
Becky stared at him like he'd grown another head. "You really don't rember? You humiliated him in Diagon Alley — told him off right in public! His father wasn't happy either. You think that's just going to blow over?"
Darren blinked innocently. "Oh… I thought he'd forgotten about that."
Becky pressed her fingers to her temple. rlin's beard, how did this idiot survive childhood?
"You," she said finally, "are staying here. If you need anything, tell one of them to fetch it."
She gestured lazily to the others in the compartnt — her hangers-on.
Normally, Becky wouldn't have given these sycophants the ti of day. But right now, she figured they could at least keep this foolish boy from wandering off and dying of stupidity.
"Right then," said one of them quickly. "Allow to introduce myself. Ace Frank, Fourth-Year Prefect. This is my brother, Bisa Frank — first year, sa as you."
Darren nodded politely. "Ace and… Pizza?"
"It's Bisa," the younger one corrected hurriedly, smiling nervously as Becky's eyes flicked toward him.
Another boy spoke up next. "Dulogar French, Third-Year Prefect. And that's Ted Baker, Fifth-Year Prefect."
Darren quickly committed the nas to mory, though he could already feel the subtle tension in the room — everyone deferring to Becky, yet watching him with thinly veiled disdain.
Then he noticed a small figure curled up in the corner of the compartnt.
A girl, pale and delicate, her long platinum hair falling over her face. A small beauty mark rested just beneath one eye. She appeared to be asleep, her cheeks faintly pink.
Everyone else seed to give her a wide berth.
Becky caught Darren's glance. "That's Kassandra de la Vore — of the ancient House of Voreé. Best not to bother her if you value your peace. Or your limbs."
Darren blinked. "Is she dangerous?"
Becky didn't answer imdiately. "Let's just say… she enjoys starting fights and watching others finish them."
Her tone softened just slightly. "You'll learn soon enough. Just… don't cross her."
She leaned back, clearly finished with the conversation.
Darren, however, smiled faintly to himself.
He wasn't afraid. Not of Malfoy. Not of Slytherin bullies.
He just hoped Harry had found a good seat — and maybe, just maybe, that his act as a "kind-hearted savior" was earning him a few more points in that mysterious system of his.
---
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