Ron's tone and description had the surrounding first-years cracking up.
More and more students seed to recognize Edward. They might not know his na, but his face rang a bell for many.
So who hadn't been close to that train compartnt had heard the rumor: Draco Malfoy had gotten a proper thrashing from a tall, brown-haired boy on the Hogwarts Express.
They'd assud it was so upperclassman pulling rank.
Under the flickering firelight, Malfoy's face grew paler by the second.
He instinctively turned to look for Crabbe and Goyle, hoping for backup, but his two lackeys had already slunk back into the crowd, not daring to make a peep.
"Cowards!" Malfoy hissed under his breath.
Now he had to face the terrifying Edward alone.
He'd planned to throw a quick jab at Harry and slip back into the crowd, but Edward's hand clamped onto his shoulder, pinching his shoulder blade with a sharp sting.
"What did I tell you on the train?" Edward asked, flashing a bright, almost cheerful smile.
"Bedivere, I'm warning you—this is Hogwarts! Professor McGonagall could show up any—" Malfoy's words cut off with a sharp hiss as a jolt of pain shot through his shoulder.
"I don't recall saying anything about that. Care to repeat what I *did* say?" Edward's grip tightened noticeably.
"Be… be courteous to others!"
Malfoy grimaced in pain, forced to spit out the words reluctantly.
"And was mocking soone just now courteous? Don't you think an apology is in order?" Edward's smile widened, almost blindingly bright.
"Apologize to Weasley? Are you joking? You might as well—" Malfoy yelped, frantically patting Edward's increasingly heavy hand as sweat beaded on his forehead. "Ease up!"
To any teacher passing by, it would look like tall, imposing Edward was bullying poor, scrawny Malfoy.
Unfortunately for Malfoy, Professor McGonagall was still on her way.
He realized that if he didn't apologize soon, he'd be down to half a shoulder before the Sorting Ceremony even started.
"Weasley, I… I shouldn't have mocked your robes," Malfoy muttered, his face flushing red as Edward practically escorted him to stand in front of Ron.
His voice was barely a whisper, but Ron's sharp ears caught every word.
Ron stood there, stunned.
*Did I hear that right? Draco Malfoy is apologizing to ?*
He didn't know what to say, but he made sure to burn every detail of this mont into his mory.
He couldn't wait to tell his parents, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and Ginny—everyone!—about this unforgettable scene.
He felt it was practically his duty to let the entire Hogwarts castle know about it!
"Well done, Malfoy. Looks like you've finally taken a solid first step toward humility."
Edward nodded with satisfaction, releasing his iron grip.
Malfoy let out a heavy sigh of relief, rubbing his nearly numb shoulder. He shot Edward a venomous glare, as if he could wipe that infuriating smile off his face with sheer willpower.
Not only had he failed to win over Harry Potter, but he'd also been humiliated in front of all the first-years.
And the worst part? He was powerless against Edward Bedivere.
A wave of frustration and sha crashed over him. Twice in one day—*twice*!
*Why did I have to cross paths with this nace?*
"Bedivere, you'll let your guard down eventually. I'll tell my father about this—we'll see who has the last laugh!"
Malfoy started to throw out a few more bold words, but a sudden tap on his sore shoulder made him yelp in pain, nearly jumping out of his skin.
"Who was that?!"
He spun around, roaring, only to co face-to-face with Professor McGonagall's stern yet slightly bewildered expression.
His flushed face drained to a ghostly white.
"Mr. Malfoy, though you haven't been Sorted yet, as Hogwarts' deputy headmistress, I must remind you not to shout in the corridors," McGonagall said, her sharp gaze lingering on his shoulder.
"And is there sothing wrong with your shoulder?"
She was puzzled. She'd only tapped him lightly with a rolled-up piece of parchnt to get his attention—why the dramatic reaction?
Was the Malfoy family really so delicate these days?
"N-no, nothing, sorry, Professor," Malfoy stamred, mortified, wishing he could disappear into the floor.
He'd considered ratting out Edward, but if he did, his mockery of Ron would co to light. McGonagall would likely punish both of them, and as Gryffindor's Head of House, she'd probably go harder on him.
In the end, he could only shoot Edward one last glare before slinking back into the crowd.
The whispers and stifled giggles among the first-years finally died down as McGonagall returned.
"Everyone ready? Follow ," she said with a wave, leading the students through an oak door toward a small room.
"Hey, mate, that was seriously aweso! And that move on the train? I heard you slamd Crabbe—that chubby one—right onto Malfoy's head!" Ron sidled up to Edward, whispering excitedly.
"Ron Weasley," he said, sticking out his right hand.
"Edward Bedivere," Edward replied, giving Ron's hand a firm shake before turning to the boy beside him. "And you must be Harry Potter?"
"Er, yeah. Thanks for stepping in back there!" Harry shook Edward's hand, a bit embarrassed.
He'd been helped out by soone whose na he didn't even know.
But seeing Malfoy brought low like that had definitely lifted Harry's spirits.
*Looks like there are more good people in the wizarding world than I thought!*
"Bedivere? As in *William* Bedivere's son?" Ron's eyes went wide, his mouth practically forming an O.
"No wonder you looked so familiar! My mum never misses an issue of his magazine! Er, could you maybe… get her an autograph from your dad?" He scratched his head, looking sheepish.
"Of course. I'll ntion it in my next letter ho," Edward said with a grin, agreeing without hesitation.
"Mate, you're the best! I don't care what house you're in—you're my brother from now on!" Ron gave Edward an enthusiastic fist bump.
"But I'm hoping we all end up in Gryffindor. My whole family's been there," he added.
Soon, the first-years passed through the small room and reached a massive double wooden door.
Professor McGonagall slowly pushed it open.
Beyond the doors, the first-years were greeted by the sight of a grand, magnificent Great Hall.
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