MTLNOVEL Chapter 7: Chapter 7
Chapter 7:
Hermione rose. "Well, you've given me a lot to think about, Mr. Potter. But I suppose I'd better go and find Neville ... Mr. Longbottom, I mean, and see what luck he's had with his toad." She turned at the door. "Mr. Potter, what books would you recommend to learn more about what we talked about?"
Harry smiled, genuinely this time, and he rattled off the names of three etiquette books. "If they don't have those in the Hogwarts library, just ask and I'll let you borrow my copies."
"Thank you." She paused while trying to remember how the people in Pride and Prejudice talked to one another. "And Mr. Potter, if I am not being presumptuous in saying, I would be gratified if you would call me Hermione," she said with a smile of her own.
Harry laughed. "You are not being presumptuous at all, Hermione. And I would be equally pleased if you called me Harry."
She nodded and left the compartment, as Harry returned to his etiquette book, pleased at having made his first tentative friendship. About ten minutes later, the door flew open and Jim entered, along with the red-headed boy Harry had encountered twice before.
"Hey, there you are!" exclaimed Jim. "I've been looking for you for ages. This is Ron Weasley. He'll be in our class. Ron, this is my brother, Harry!"
"Good to meet you, Harry," said Ron enthusiastically.
"Likewise," said Harry blandly. Internally, he thought "Oh, yeah, definitely Gryffindor." Out loud, he said "Actually, I think we've already met. We were getting fitted together at Madame Malkin's."
"Oh, yeah! I remember you. You should have told me you were Jim's brother!"
"Well, I'd just found ... never mind. Let's just say it was a stressful day and I didn't think about it."
"Well anyway," said Jim, dropping into the seat next to Harry, with Ron opposite them. "I'm sorry we got caught up with those photographers. It's a pain sometimes. But Ron here introduced me to his brothers and they introduced me to the Gryffindor Quidditch team." He paused. "Say, do you know anything about Quidditch, Harry?"
"Not much. I know it's a strange combination of water polo, dodgeball, and capture the flag but played in the air on high speed flying broomsticks."
"Oookaay. I don't know what any of those are. But don't worry. Dad was an awesome chaser when he was in school, and he got me my first practice broom for my fourth birthday. We'll get you up to speed in no time."
Harry, who had spent his fourth birthday learning how to cook bacon and scrambled eggs for the Dursley's (with the threat of a frying pan to the head if anything was burnt), smiled that painful smile again. "I'm looking forward to it."
Suddenly, the compartment doors opened again, and yet another person barged in. This one was a thin, blond boy with aristocratic features. Behind him out in the corridor stood two stocky boys who would probably grow into hulking brutes within five years.
"I was told that James Potter, Jr., the Boy-Who-Lived, was in this car," said the newcomer imperiously. "Is it true?"
"He is," said Harry with some bemusement. "And you are?"
"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy." Jim and Ron both sniggered at the boy's pomposity, but for some reason, he focused his ire solely on Ron. "I can tell what family you belong to. Red hair. Freckles. Hand-me-down robes. Undoubtedly a Weasley," he sneered.
Both Ron and Jim turned red in anger, while Harry's eyes narrowed. He recognized the name Malfoy and was quite surprised by how rudely the scion of such an important House was acting. Not to mention the oddly specific insults Malfoy had made towards someone he obviously didn't know before just now.
Ignoring Ron, Draco turned back to Harry but was surprised to finally notice that there were two very similar looking boys in the car. He made a guess and hoped it wasn't the one a chocolate stain on his shirt who was presently giving him an angry glare. "So, are you James Potter?" he asked the more reputable looking one.
Harry shook his head and pointed at Jim who had stood up and moved threateningly close to Draco. The two thugs outside tensed and readied themselves for a fight. "I'm Jim Potter," he said. "What's it to you?"
Draco held his hands up to show he meant no threat. "Potter, please. I apologize if I offended you in any way. But you're a national icon and the Heir to an Ancient and Noble House. You're obviously going to need help finding the right sort of friends. I can help steer you away from the wrong crowd." From Draco's posture, it was clear "the wrong crowd" included Ron, whose face twisted into a mask of anger.
"I can find the right sort of friend without your help, Death Eater," sneered Jim.
Draco's eyes narrowed, while Harry watched the display, idly wishing he'd brought popcorn. "Obviously, there is no possibility of me being a Death Eater since I'm eleven. And if you refer to my father, then you should remember that the Wizengamot found him not guilty. So you should speak a little more thoughtfully, Potter, unless you wish to be sued for slander."
"Oh, come off it, Malfoy!" said Ron contemptuously. "Your family is as Slytherin as they come, and there's never been a dark wizard who wasn't a slimy Slytherin, from You-Know-Who to Grindelwald all the way back to Salazar Slytherin himself."
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