The Second Malfoy

Chapter Two:

Brothers

Ron sat upon his bed in his room, rolling his new wand between his fingers, looking down on it in distaste. After getting fitted for their robes, Narcissa had led him and Draco to Ollivander's. Draco had gotten a cool wand - hawthorn and dragon heartstring - but Ron was quite disappointed with his own. Fourteen inches long, Ron's wand was made of willow and unicorn hair. Unicorn hair. Ron could not think of a more girly or weak substance that his wand could possibly be made of.

He probably would not have been so disappointed with it had Lucius not always bragged about his dragon heartstring cored wand. He had always imagined that he would receive something similar to his father like Draco had, but apparently he was not worthy of it. Narcissa had tried to make him feel better by telling him that her wand had unicorn hair in it too, but Ron felt she only proved his point. Sure, it was fine for his mother, a girl, to use unicorn hair in her magic. For Ron, it was just embarrassing.

The sound of someone dragging something very heavy caught his attention away from his wand, and Ron saw with mild surprise that Draco was dragging both of their trunks down the hallway. He turned into Ron's room, depositing the heavy trunk with a sigh and said, "Here you go...Mum says it's best if we start packing. I have Dobby in my room getting all of my things in order. What are doing?" He eyed Ron with interest and he knew instantly that Draco had immediately caught on to the fact that he was in a rather sullen mood.

"Nothing," Ron said in a nearly cheerful voice. He looked back down at his wand for the briefest of seconds, planning on jumping to his feet to start preparing for tomorrow, but Draco's voice halted him.

"You're still not on about that wand, are you?" he questioned, looking at the stick in Ron's hand warily. "It's not that big a deal that you got unicorn hair! I don't understand why you cared so much about that."

"Because it's not fair!" Ron lamented, throwing his wand upon the pillow at the top of the bed and standing to face Draco. "I've always thought I would get dragon heartstring like Dad, but instead I got unicorn hair. It's embarrassing!"

"Mum's got unicorn hair! I wouldn't have been embarrassed to get it! You can't plan these sorts of things, Ron. It's like Mr. Ollivander says...the wand chooses the wizard. This wand chose you for a reason, and you should be proud of it. It's not like you had any choice in the matter anyway." Draco glared at Ron, crossing his arms huffily. He was clearly annoyed that Ron couldn't just appreciate what he had, but Ron was not going to budge in his resentment of his wand. It was easy for his brother to say that it wasn't a big deal and that Ron should accept what had been given to him, because Draco had always gotten his way. Ron, however, felt like he never got his.

"Whatever," he said as he rolled his eyes and crossing his room to the trunk Draco had dragged in.

Draco sighed and said, "Dad doesn't mind that you got unicorn hair, you know. He actually says your wand rounds out the family nicely." When Ron refused to respond, he added, "Look, don't worry about it. Tomorrow we go to Hogwarts and actually get to learn magic with our own wands! Isn't that exciting?"

It was hard not to smile at the prospect. Ever since they were five years old, Narcissa had her sons practice simple spells (like the Levitation Charm and the Disarming Spell) on her wand. Ron had found out a couple of years ago that it was actually illegal to teach children spells before they were of school age, but their mother, for whatever reason, was willing to take the risk. Their spellwork was never very effective since Narcissa's wand was very loyal to her, but there had always been the hope that someday they would get to perform the spells with their own wands. Now that Draco mentioned it, Ron found it hard not to let that little bubble of excitement over attending Hogwarts that had been growing steadily in the pit of his stomach burst.

"It is," Ron finally agreed after a moment's contemplation. Draco grinned largely and Ron suddenly felt oddly relieved. Even though he was stuck with the unicorn hair wand he knew that it was worth having. It's better to have a wand than to not have one and wish you did, he told himself. Draco seemed to sense that Ron was feeling better about the wand. He offered one more satisfied smile then left the room, all the while calling Dobby's name bossily, no doubt just realizing that he had forgotten to tell the elf to prepare something for packing.

Ron shook his head at his brother with a slight smirk upon his face and took to emptying his clothes drawers. It took a matter of ten minutes to track everything down. Finally, he had thrown all his shirts, pants, socks, underwear, and shoes (for he had three pairs) into the bottom of his trunk. Most new wizards or witches probably would have marveled at how much room was still left within the trunk after having thrown so many garments into it, but not Ron. The novelty of magic had long since worn off, and he knew for a fact that his trunk was bewitched to fit everything he needed to put within it.

He next turned to shoving his schoolbooks within the trunk. He nearly had them all, but for some reason he couldn't find his copy of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. It had been the only book he had really found himself interested in and so he had taken to carrying it around the house with him, reading it during mealtimes and in the evening when the family gathered in the sitting room and spent time together. Now, he wasn't quite sure where it could be.

"Dobby!" he called out in a similarly bossy tone to the one that Draco always adopted when speaking to the house elf. With a small pop, Dobby materialized within Ron's room, a silver and green sock clutched in his hand. Clearly he had been on an errand for Draco when Ron had called him.

"Yes, sir?" Dobby asked obediently. His large, orb-like eyes shone in anticipation.

"Have you seen my Defense book? It's called The Dark Forces." Ron knew that Dobby wandered the home more than any of its other occupants and figured that he would have seen it sooner than anyone else would have. From the apprehensive look on Dobby's face, though, Ron suddenly became uncertain.

"Yes, sir, Dobby has," he said anxiously. "Master Ronaldus has been leaving it in his father's study room. When Master called Ronaldus to Master's chamber the other day, Ronaldus has been leaving it behind!" Realization struck Ron as he suddenly remembered. His dad had called him in the study to ask him how he was feeling. Narcissa had told Lucius that Ron had looked a bit peaky in Diagon Alley (although he hadn't really felt all that horrible) and so his father had merely wanted to check up on him. He must have brought The Dark Forces into the room when he had been called and simply left it there.

"Can you go get it for me?" he asked, although he didn't really intend it as a question, but more as an order. Like his brother and parents, Ron firmly believed that the house elf was beneath him both in status and intelligence. Because of this, house elves were servants and nothing more, although Ron didn't like how his father often lost his temper with Dobby and shouted at him all the time. It did not seem wholly right for whatever reason.

"Sir must forgive me," Dobby said weakly. "Dobby has been forbidden to go into Master's study room. Master says Dobby should keep his long nose out of his business, sir." Ron rolled his eyes which caused Dobby to flinch, but that only made Ron roll his eyes more. It figured that the one time that he needed the elf to get something out of his father's study for him would just happen to be the one time that Dobby was ordered to stay out of it.

"Fine then. I'll get it," Ron told the elf, who continued to flinch at his clear frustration. Unable to handle any more fearful behavior from Dobby, Ron ordered, "Go back to Draco!" With a little pop Dobby disappeared. Ron breathed a sigh of relief then strode from the room, intent upon getting back his book.

When he reached Lucius' study Ron knocked upon the door, certain that if Dobby was told to stay out his father was probably working on some very important business. When no one answered, however, curiosity won over him and he slowly opened the door and peered inside. Nobody was within the room. He could see his book sitting on a chair in front of his father's desk, so he slowly tiptoed into the room and snatched it into his grasp.

He was just about to leave when something caught his attention. There it was, the mysterious mask and hood encased in glass upon the mantle over the fireplace. For the billionth time in his life, he pondered where it had come from and how his father had come to possess it. Ron forgot his mission to pack his trunk, his desire to have everything ready for tomorrow morning. Instead he slowly walked over to the fireplace, dropped his book on the floor, and lifted the heavy glass up off the mantle. There was a little door upon the top of the glass, and as soon as Ron had set it down carefully upon the surface of Lucius' desk, Ron opened it.

Licking his lips greedily, he stared down on the top of the hood. He wanted to touch the fabric. Ron had never done that before and had always wondered what would happen if he did. He didn't know why he was taking such a chance. His parents collected dark objects, and if this thing were possessed, it could very easily take him too. Still, his curiosity got the better of him, and he slowly reached his fingers into the case in order to touch the silky fabric within.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked from behind him. Ron jumped as though he had been scalded by something and took several steps back, ignoring the slightly disappointed feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't gotten to touch it. However that was the least of his worries. Standing in the doorway was his father and he did not look pleased.

"I...came in here to...get my book," Ron said lamely, looking down at The Dark Forces, which was lying open on the hearth.

"Yes, it certainly looks like it," Lucius replied coldly. Ron had never heard his father speak to either of his children that way before, and he couldn't help but drop his gaze from Lucius' face in shame. Quick as a flash, Lucius swept across the room and shut the lid on the glass casing. "Take your book and go," he ordered, not bothering to turn around and look at his son.

"Dad, I'm sorr-"

"GO!"

Ron snatched up his book and practically ran from the room, his heart pounding and his stomach churning. The mask must have been very dangerous for his father to have yelled at him like that. However, the potential peril he had just put himself in was nothing compared to what he'd just put his father through. He and Lucius had never really gotten along as well as Draco and Lucius, and now he had gone and shown his dad that he could not be trusted. He would never, ever see Ron in the same light he saw Draco, especially after today.

Sighing resolutely and trying hard not to cry, Ron headed back to his room and threw the book as hard as he could into his trunk. Then he set to snatching up the rest of his things and packing them very roughly.

* * *

If his father had been that mad at him, he had an odd way of showing it. The next day, they had all traveled bright and early to King's Cross Station in London. It had been a very uncomfortable walk through the train station, since it was the closest the twins had ever actually come to Muggles, and Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy kept looking down their noses at the bustling people in dislike. Ron would have usually felt embarrassed about his parents' lack of tact, but he was still so ashamed that he did or said nothing about it.

Once they were on Platform 9 ¾, his father suddenly turned to them both. He pulled Draco into a hug and said, "Be good. We'll miss you," then did the same for Ron, who felt utterly bewildered about such blatant signs of affection. He really didn't think he deserved them after what he had done yesterday, yet when he looked into Lucius' eyes, he was surprised to see that he sincerely looked like he would miss Ron.

"I'll miss you too, Dad," Ron said in return. Lucius smiled brightly, his eyes suddenly watering so much that he had to stand and turn away from them. Was he going to cry?

Narcissa hugged him next and said, "Make sure to write us as soon as you're in your dormitory to tell us if you got into Slytherin, alright?" Ron nodded, although he didn't see how he could not make it into Slytherin or why his mother thought it was a possibility that he could be placed elsewhere.

They didn't dawdle too long on the platform. It was awkward saying goodbye to their parents, especially when their father seemed so prone to crying at the moment. They alighted upon a set of steps on the very back carriage of the Hogwarts Express, pulled their trunks in after them, waved goodbye, and immediately set to finding themselves some prime seats.

"That was weird," Ron said as soon as they were out of their parents' vicinity.

"Yeah," Draco replied distractedly. "I wonder where Crabbe and Goyle are going to be?"

"They'll probably get on the wrong train, as thick as they are," Ron joked. Draco laughed out loud as he dragged his trunk into an empty compartment. From the window, they could see their parents staring up into the windows of the carriage as though trying to figure out where their boys had seated themselves.

"Ugh...I wish they would just go already," Draco said. Narcissa spotted him and began waving frantically, though they couldn't see her very well through a crowd of red-headed people who had just rushed by in front of her.

"I didn't think Dad would say anything to me," Ron said, half in shame and half in relief.

"Why?"

Ron recounted the story of the day previous. Draco listened intently, and when Ron was done actually smirked and shrugged. "He's caught me looking at that mask before. It's no big deal."

"Really? Did he yell at you too?"

"Of course," Draco said. "I mean, I was going through his things. That's probably why he was so upset anyway. He was fine after a day or so when I did it, so you shouldn't be surprised that he didn't stay angry with you."

"Oh," Ron said. He felt suddenly guilty for thinking his dad would have treated him any differently than he did Draco. It was just that he had always felt certain that Lucius preferred Draco and allowed him to get his way more often. Maybe he was mistaken in that? What if his father had always treated them as equally as he could? He probably had, but Ron had been too stupid to realize that he was different, because he was sick.

"There you lot are," said a surprisingly deep voice. Ron looked up at the entrant and offered as nice of a smile as he could manage. Gregory Goyle stood in the frame of the doorway, as tall as a fourteen year old, though he was only eleven. He seemed to be going through puberty early, because his face already looked as though it was thinning out, and Ron could swear he could see a bit of facial hair on his chin.

Behind him stood Vincent Crabbe, who Ron liked even less than Goyle. He was not as tall as his companion, but definitely wider with bigger, beefier arms. He was not as intelligent as the Malfoys or Goyle, which was unfortunate, because he tended to talk a great deal more than any of them. It was tedious having to hear about things like how much money Crabbe's father made and how stupid Muggles were, because these were the only topics that he seemed to be able to discuss at length.

The boys shuffled into the room, and Ron and Draco had to scoot over as far as they could to allow for the bigger boys to sit beside them. Ron was grateful that he got to sit next to Goyle, as he was thinner. It looked like Crabbe's girth was positively squashing Draco against the window.

"Excited?" Ron finally asked, looking across to Crabbe, who was already taking out a chocolate frog and stuffing it into his mouth.

"Yeah, of course," he said through the mouthful of chocolate. "Dad says the Slytherin common room is in the dungeon under the lake so it glows green! He showed me pictures and told me about how they used to pretend to torture Muggles down there in his day." Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust. He hated how Crabbe did that. He would change a perfectly innocent topic like going to Hogwarts into talking about hurting Muggles. Draco, who was shoving some of Crabbe's fat rolls away from him, looked disgusted too, but Ron wasn't sure whether it was the topic or Crabbe's fat that was grossing him out so much.

"What about you?" Ron said, looking to Goyle who was biting his nails anxiously.

"Yeah, I'm a fair bit excited," he said, and left it at that.

There was a sudden lurch, and they all gripped their seats as the train began to slowly roll forward. Ron looked out of the window, and sure enough, his parents were still standing there, staring at them lovingly. Ron waved to his mother who was openly crying, and then to his father who was struggling not to cry. Draco snorted at their appearance and looked at Ron in a look that asked, "can you believe them?" Ron shook his head in bemusement and turned back to the rest of the occupants in the carriage.

"We're both looking forward to it too, obviously," he told Crabbe and Goyle. Goyle nodded and began biting his nails some more, while Crabbe immediately launched into telling them all the Dark Spells he wanted to learn.

Why am I friends with this guy? Ron asked himself as Crabbe showed them a book that his Dad had bought him on hexes. "Of course, I haven't read it, because reading is boring. It would be neat to use them on some Mudbloods, though, right?" He looked specifically to Draco for approval, as though what Draco thought of his prejudice really mattered. All Draco said was, "Sure," in a very awkward tone while looking at Ron as though he wanted to jump off the train in order to get away from Crabbe's tediousness.

An hour and a half into the journey Ron couldn't stand it anymore. Standing up, he told them all that he would find the food trolley and get them something if they gave him money. He took their orders expertly, gave Draco a look of deepest sympathy, then positively ran away from the compartment, glad that he had found a way to escape.

He nearly put two carriage's worth of distance between himself and the compartment before breathing a sigh of relief. Ron would certainly take his time in going back to them. He wasn't sure how he was going to put off the inevitable, but he'd find a way. This train, after all, was full of people to talk to. It would be difficult to not get distracted.

Ron found his diversion on the floor in the very next compartment he entered. A girl who was about his age was crawling around on the floor, looking under cracks in doorways. She had very big, bushy hair and was rather small. Already in her Hogwarts robes, Ron knew she was probably a Muggleborn. Only someone who had not grown up surrounded by magic could possibly be so excited to go as to already have put their robes on at this point in the journey north to Hogwarts.

He watched her crawl around in the hallway for a few minutes before he spoke. "Clearly you've never been on a train before," he said, crossing his arms in mock smugness and smirking down at her. The girl looked up him, startled at first, then offering him a small smile. She had buck-teeth that were tad unattractive, but Ron supposed nobody was perfect.

"Of course I have," she replied airily, resuming her search for whatever she had lost on the floor. "I'm starting a new trend." Ron laughed silently to himself, glad that this wasn't the sort of girl who took things too seriously.

"What are you looking for?"

"A toad," she answered, sitting up to peek in a window to a compartment. The occupants within (who had to have been at least fifteen years old) looked at her like she was insane.

"A toad?!" Ron replied, once again wrinkling his nose in disgust. "Why on earth would you get a toad?"

"I didn't," she answered. "It's for a boy named Neville. His toad Trevor took off as soon as he got on the train, so he, Harry Potter, and I are looking for him."

At first, the words "Harry Potter" did not register at Ron. He was too amused and distracted at the girl crawling down the corridor that he didn't notice that she had just said the name of the most famous young wizard of all time. Suddenly, realization dawned on him, though, and he hastily said (perhaps a bit too frantically), "Harry Potter?! THE Harry Potter?!"

"Yep," the girl replied nonchalantly. Ron stared at her incredulously. How could she not be more excited than this?! Then it occurred to him...she was probably a Muggleborn. She had no idea who Harry Potter really was or why he was so famous.

"Do you even know who he is?!" Ron snapped at her. She stood up fully now, staring up into his face and giving an, "are you kidding me?" sort of look.

"Of course I know who he is. He beat You-Know-Who when he was a baby. I've read all about him." Ron continued to stare at her, transfixed by how utterly indifferent she was to being on speaking terms with Harry Potter. He couldn't help but mouth mutely at her, wishing he could ask her how on earth she was so calm, why she was wasting her time searching for a toad when she could be spending her time with the most famous wizard of all time, and whether or not she would introduce them, but he couldn't utter a syllable.

As though reading his mind, the girl rolled her eyes and asked, "Do you want to meet him?"

"Of course!" he replied anxiously.

"Alright then," she said. She turned to go, but then quickly stopped and spun back around to say something else. "I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger." The girl held her hand out to him as if to shake his, and he eyed it warily. Ron was certain that she was Muggleborn, which was something he had always been taught to stay away from. After all, hadn't she said that she knew who Harry Potter was, because she had read all about him? It seemed strange to be on speaking terms with someone who only knew all the things that he knew naturally just because she had read about them.

Still, his natural curiosity for Muggles and his great desire to meet the Boy Who Lived won over him and he said, "Ronaldus Malfoy. Just call me Ron." He took her hand and shook it gently, feeling an odd sort of exhilaration about having made a Muggleborn friend. Before he could release her hand, however, she gripped his tightly, and dragged him down the corridor roughly.

He didn't have time to ask where she was taking him or to even tell her it was nice to meet her. Within seconds, she was pulling him into a compartment, where a rather chubby boy who must have been Neville instantly stood up and asked, "Did you find Trevor?"

"No, but I found Ronaldus," Hermione said with a pleased smile, indicating Ron who was standing rather awkwardly in the entrance to the compartment.

"Ron," he corrected automatically, looking at Neville apprehensively, then turning his attention to the other boy in the tiny room. He couldn't believe his eyes. Sitting within the compartment was the boy whom he and Draco had talked with in Madam Malkin's. He was looking up at Ron as though he also could not believe his eyes. Hermione looked between the two of them as though trying to figure out exactly what they were both thinking. "You're Harry Potter?" he asked, his eyes naturally flicking upward toward the scar on his forehead.

"Yeah," Harry replied as he rubbed his hair down to cover the scar.

"I'm...I'm sorry," Ron said quickly, sensing that Harry was still angry with him over what he had said in Diagon Alley about his parents. "I didn't know who you were! I mean, even if I did, it would still be wrong...I just...I was curious and we were in the shop for a long time and I was just trying to make conversation-"

"It's alright, don't worry about it," Harry said. Ron immediately stopped talking and his ears went red from embarrassment.

"You two already know each other?" Hermione asked with a confused expression. "I thought you'd never met Harry before?"

"I didn't know I had." He felt mortified. If he had known that the scrawny, poorly dressed boy in the shop had actually been Harry Potter, he would have never said anything about his parents' blood status. He would have certainly shut Draco up too. Feeling too embarrassed to stay any longer (actually, he felt even more miserable than he had been when he had been stuck with Crabbe and Goyle), Ron turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Hermione suddenly asked as she took a seat next to Neville. "At least stay for a bit."

Ron looked to Harry, as though asking permission to stay. He scooted over in his seat and looked at him meaningfully. Sighing in resignation, Ron plopped himself down next to him, wishing there was some way he could go back in time and tell himself not to say anything stupid in front of the boy in the shop. Or, better yet, talk his mother into taking them wand shopping first.

There was an awkward silence which seemed to stretch on for ages. Then, very suddenly, Harry asked, "Where's your twin?"

Ron jumped at the sound of his voice. Hermione gasped and said, "You're a twin? Are you identical or fraternal?"

"Erm...we're not identical, no. I left him with some of our friends." He looked at Harry uncomfortably, then added, "I kind of hate them, actually. I had to get out of there, so I told them I was going to look for the food trolley."

"Why do you hate your friends?" Neville asked, still looking miserable over his lost toad.

"We're only friends with them, because my Dad is friends with their dads. They're kind of...thick."

"My Great Uncle Algie says I'm thick," Neville said in response. Although his eyes were still darting around the compartment for the ever elusive Trevor, Ron could tell he felt ashamed of himself for whatever reason. He didn't know what to say back. How could he possibly be able to cheer up a kid whom he had just met?

Hermione seemed better prepared. "You're not thick, Neville. You'll show him."

Neville smiled at her modestly. "But I don't know any magic at all, even though I've been raised with it. I just know I'm going to go home for Christmas and he's going to be disappointed...as will my Gran."

"Nobody knows any magic going in!" Hermione said, trying to reassure him. Next to Ron, Harry seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. Apparently he'd been worried about his magical abilities as well. "We're all beginners. That's what's so great about Hogwarts, Neville."

"So, you're telling me that none of you have practiced spells?" Neville looked from Harry, to Hermione, then finally to Ron. Harry shook his head innocently, showing Neville that he would be just as far behind everyone else as he was. Hermione bit her lip anxiously and Ron outright avoided Neville's gaze. Hermione, who Ron still figured was a Muggleborn, had probably been really antsy to start practicing magic as soon as she could. Meanwhile, Ron had been at it for years.

"Well," Hermione finally said, "you can't really blame me for trying, can you?"

"And I couldn't help it," Ron added. He didn't elaborate that his own mother had been giving him lessons, but hoped that everyone would assume that it was because he was just as curious about magic as Hermione was. His answer seemed to be satisfactory, because no one seemed inclined to question him. Hearing this news, though, seemed to deflate what little confidence Harry had earned at learning Neville had never done magic. Half of the people in the compartment were already experienced at performing spells, which was obviously something he had not wanted to hear.

"Ugh, I'm going to be rubbish!" Neville lamented, covering his face with his hands.

"Don't be silly!" Hermione said. "I only started practicing spells because I'd read through all the books and I was too excited to wait!" This didn't help Neville. He stood up in resignation and mumbled that he was going to go out in the hall and look for Trevor some more. They all watched him go, Hermione eyeing him sadly. "Oh dear...I didn't mean to make him feel worse!"

"Did you really read all your schoolbooks already?" Harry asked, looking at Hermione with a face that clearly said that she was mental.

"Well...yes," she replied.

"Blimey," Ron said. He was unable to contain himself. Hermione had to have only gotten her letter a month and a half ago at the least, and all of those books were fairly thick. How in the world she had managed to read them all in that short span of time, he didn't know.

"How many have you two read?" she asked.

"None," Harry and Ron answered in unison.

"Seriously?! And you were practicing magic without them? I don't see how that can be done! I mean, the books tend to go on for pages about proper pronunciation and wand movements. How did you do that?" She was looking at Ron with a sort of feverish frenzy. Maybe she is mental, Ron thought, trying hard to avoid her now creepily piercing gaze.

"I skimmed it," he lied smoothly. Hermione scoffed and crossed her arms angrily. "You don't believe me? I'll prove it," Ron said. Hermione's eyebrows quirked upward in disbelief as Ron pulled out his much hated wand. Please don't fail me, he thought toward it. Pointing it suddenly at Harry's face, he said, "Reparo!" The glasses on Harry's face (which had been held together at the bridge of his nose by some tape) magically repaired themselves.

Harry flinched slightly as though expecting pain, but when none came he took off his glasses and marveled at Ron's spellwork. "Brilliant!" he said with a grin. Hermione was gaping at him, obviously impressed.

"Let's see your work," he replied a little arrogantly, tossing his wand up expertly, catching it in his hand, and slipping it back in his pocket. He knew Hermione would want to prove herself and was satisfied when she removed her own wand from the inside of her robes. Her eyes glanced around for something - anything - to bewitch. Finally, she pointed her wand toward the padlock on a large snowy owl's cage within the compartment and said, "Alohomora!"

There was a soft click as the lock on the cage was undone and the door swung open. The owl looked like it was about to stretch its wings and fly out, but Harry hastily jumped up and shut the door, whispering, "No, stay in there, Hedwig." The owl looked disappointed, but nibbled at Harry's fingers affectionately as the lock clicked back into place. "Just a little bit longer and you can fly all you want."

"I still don't see how you could have learned the Repairing Charm without reading the text. There are some very explicit instructions in that chapter that you would have missed if you just skimmed them." Hermione's eyes were narrowed as she spoke which caused Ron to squirm slightly in his seat. He knew that she was on to him and chances were that she wouldn't like the truth. Nonetheless he felt like he could trust Harry and Hermione now, even if he had only known them for a mere half an hour.

"Alright, I'll tell you," Ron said in exasperation. "But don't tell anyone and promise you won't be too angry." Hermione nodded and her eyes gleamed in fascination, as though she were about to learn how to work a Muggle magic trick. Harry nodded as well, but his eyes were slightly more anxious. Ron knew that his answer was only going to make Harry more nervous about beginning Hogwarts, but maybe if he explained that not every person from a wizard family had been experienced with spells before going to school he'd be a little more comfortable? "My Mum may or may not have taught Draco and I how to do some basic spells on her wand when we were younger."

Just as expected, Harry's head seemed to drop in misery and Hermione's eyes went round as she digested this new nugget of information. "So...all the wizard-raised children will be ahead of Neville and me won't they?" Harry replied, looking so thoroughly depressed that he was actually bringing Ron's good mood down with him. He opened his mouth to argue that they probably wouldn't, that his mother was just unusual, but Hermione beat him to it.

"They shouldn't be, seeing as how practicing before school age is illegal." She sounded as though she was accusing Ron of cheating on a test.

"Well, I couldn't help that my Mum was willing to take the risk! I suppose she just wanted us to be prepared for when we started school."

"Prepared! None of the Muggleborns are prepared, Harry and Neville aren't prepared! You and your brother have an unfair advantage!" Hermione crossed her arms huffily again as she sat back into her seat and stuck her nose up in the air. Ron could have sworn that she wasn't so much as angry about the fact that his mother had done something illegal as she was at the prospect of not being the best in the class.

"So do you!" Harry suddenly argued in Ron's defense. "You just admitted to us that you couldn't help yourself and practiced at home! Isn't that illegal, Hermione?" Ron openly laughed out loud and watched with glee as Hermione's face turned pink and she lost her confident, rule-abiding posture. Harry and Ron exchanged grins with one another. He could tell he was going to like Harry a great deal, especially if Harry was capable of seeing eye-to-eye with him like this all the time.

They were momentarily interrupted by the arrival of the food trolley. "Oh, that's right!" Ron said as he stood up to get a better look of the sweets that were on the cart. "I told Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle that I was going to get food for everyone."

"Well, just stay for a few minutes to eat and then bring them their food," Harry suggested.

After getting everything he, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle had wanted, Ron took a seat, gnawing on a cauldron cake and discussing his favorite types of sweets. If there was anything Ron knew a great deal about, it was food. It had always rather amazed his parents, since nobody else in the family had his appetite, but Ron had always assumed it was because he was a bit taller than Draco, so he needed more. Harry told him all about how he hadn't grown up in the wizard world at all so he didn't know the different wizard treats, so he jumped at the opportunity to explain them to both Harry and Hermione.

"Don't eat Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," he said while holding up Crabbe's box to show them what they looked like. "I got a vomit flavored one once and I haven't been the same since." He shuddered at the thought of it and Hermione let out a little giggle at how ridiculous he looked.

"I wonder where Neville is," Harry suddenly asked. He definitely had been gone for some time.

Hermione looked at the door worriedly and said, "I better go look for him. Hopefully he didn't get lost wherever Trevor is."

"I better go too," Ron said in resignation, standing and grabbing all the sweets he had bought for his brother and friends. "They'll be starving by now. I think I took all of their money, too, so if the trolley gets back to them, they won't be able to get anything to eat." Harry nodded, a bit sad that he was about to be left alone, but Ron quickly said, "We'll meet up at school tomorrow probably. Don't worry. Next time I'll have my brother with me too. I'm sure he'd be anxious to actually meet you properly." Harry nodded, but for some reason seemed more somber at the idea of meeting up with Draco.

"Oh! Hi there!" Hermione suddenly said to someone out in the hallway. Ron turned around expecting to see Neville, but was shocked to see Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle all standing on the threshold to the compartment, looking in eagerly.

"Hello," Draco said. He looked at Ron a little quizzically. "What are you doing here?"

"Erm...chatting," Ron replied, looking at Hermione, then back at Harry.

"With Harry Potter?" Draco asked, looking behind Ron eagerly at Harry, whose scar was visible on his forehead due to his unruly hair choosing not to stay flat. His brother gawked at Harry and Ron suddenly felt embarrassed.

"Er, Draco, this is Harry Potter and Hermione Granger." Ron indicated to his two companions, then added, "There was also a boy named Neville...something..."

"Longbottom," Hermione quickly said.

"Right, Neville Longbottom, but he's looking for his toad somewhere."

"Neville Longbottom?" Draco asked, looking rather disgusted as he shook Harry's hand then turned to Hermione. Ron couldn't understand why. Yes, he thought he could recognize Neville from some outings to Diagon Alley, but other than that, he was positive he didn't know anything about him. "Granger?" Draco now said while shaking Hermione's hand. "Are you related to Hector Dagworth-Granger? Our Dad's part of his potions society."

"Erm, I don't think so," Hermione said uncertainly. "My parents are Muggles, so-"

"Muggles?" Draco was wearing that same disgusted look he gave as soon as he had found out Neville Longbottom had been with them. However, the sound of Neville's name was definitely less officious than Hermione's Muggle upbringing. The change of the room's atmosphere was instantaneous. Draco dropped her hand as though it was a burning coal, and Crabbe and Goyle - who had been leaning comfortably against the frame of the doorway - now straightened up, flexing their muscles and cracking their knuckles ominously. Hermione looked nervously confused, and Ron's only course of action was to jump in between her and Draco and work as a human shield for her.

"So wait...you're telling me that you've been in here allowing Harry Potter to hang out with Neville Longbottom, a guy whose own grandmother doesn't claim him, and a Mudblood?" Ron flinched at the word. In the wizarding world, saying Mudblood was something akin to using the most horrendous racial slur in the Muggle world. Sure, he had heard his dad say it before and had certainly heard it uttered by Crabbe, but never Draco. He couldn't believe his ears.

"Harry, you're better than this," Draco explained as he crossed the compartment and sat down next to Harry, slinging an arm around his shoulder companionably. "Why hang out with wizards who are talentless and witches who have Muggles for parents, when you could hang out with purebloods like my brother and me? Just do as we say...we can teach you who is worth being friends with, and who is not."

Now it was Harry's turn to look disgusted. His eyes drifted over to Ron, who could only stand there, completely at a loss for what to say. Yes, he could admit that Draco had a tendency toward arrogance, but he had never seen him this bad. Ron slumped his shoulders, feeling defeated and mortified. "I think I can choose who are the right sort of friends," Harry replied as he pushed himself out from under Draco's arm and jumped across the compartment to sit next to Hermione, who was also looking conquered and small.

For a moment, Draco looked like he couldn't believe his eyes. When Harry did not waver from Hermione's side, though, he stood up with as much dignity as he could muster and said, "Fine then...be friends with the losers. Just know that you'll regret it someday. Come on, Ron!" Draco swept from the room with Crabbe and Goyle tailing him closely, leaving Ron behind in a stunned silence.

He didn't know what to do. Ron had always loved his brother and was always prone to taking his side of things, but now that he had gotten to know these people and had come to actually like them, he didn't want to just walk away. He knew that Draco was wrong, that Hermione at least was not a loser. Hadn't she already proved to him that she was intelligent and a rather great witch, considering the very little practice she had had?

"What's it going to be, Ron?" Harry suddenly asked. He apparently could sense Ron's internal struggle. Ron glanced between the two of them, mouthing wordlessly. He hated that this was happening, that he had to choose between his new friends and his brother. Yet the choice to him seemed clear. Friends came and went, but family was something you could never turn your back on.

"He's my brother," he said quietly. "Sorry." Then, he strolled from the room, stopping outside to lean against the wall sadly.

From inside the compartment, he heard Harry say, "I suppose he's just as bad as his brother, isn't he?"

Hermione was quiet for a moment before she said, "I don't think so."