It was September the first, and the Hogwarts express, a 4-6-0 Hall Class steam locomotive model, stood on the platform, warming up. Looming behind the scarlet steam train's billowing smoke, there was a signboard announcing that the Hogwarts Express would depart at eleven o’clock. A standard muggle train would need hours for the boilers to warm up. However, the Hogwarts Express, run primarily on magic, did not need the same stretch of time.
A most peculiar crowd thronged the Platform 9 ¾. The crowd was wizarding children, bearing enormous trunks and caged owls and other unusual pets. Their parents leaned over them, spelling out dos and don’ts. A wrought-iron archway with the words “Platform Nine and Three-Quarters” on it marked the magical barrier through which families entered the platform.
Opposite one of the compartment doors stood a slender boy with sleek blond hair. He had cold grey eyes, a pale complexion and rather sharp, pointed features. Draco Malfoy donned the standard Hogwarts robes from Madam Malkin’s, but his seemed to be fancier, perhaps an exclusive set woven for an extra charge. He carried the most lavish basket, as pompous as galleons could afford, laden with an expensive assortment of snacks and sweets. His hair was combed to perfection, slicked back rigidly. The first year student of Hogwarts looked like a spoilt prince straight out of a picture book.
Lucius Malfoy, who Draco resembled in countenance, was almost done explaining to his son the muggle origins of the Hogwarts Express.
“Hogwarts students used to arrive in school in any way they fancied. Your great-grandfather Actaeus Malfoy had five enchanted carriages at his disposal, with servants and house-elves accompanying him to Hogwarts. It was the meddling muggle-lover Minister Gambol who acquired the Hogwarts Express from muggles and decreed that students would arrive at school on the train or not attend at all.”
Draco scoffed in agreement. His father took great pride in the purity of the Malfoy lineage, the aristocratic stature and wealth of the Malfoys, and their growing influence in the upper echelons of the Ministry of Magic. The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge was a close friend of Lucius, and the Malfoy household contributed substantially to him through donations for classified information, manipulating regulations, and receiving undeserved awards and recognitions.
“Remember Draco,” Lucius whispered, “the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore is a muggle-lover too. If you get any evidence that he has favoured muggles over pure-bloods, inform me via owl-post.”
“Certainly, I will, Father,” Draco replied, beaming.
“Make me proud, son," Lucius added.
Narcissa Malfoy leaned in, continuing her husband’s discourse. She was a tall, good-looking woman with blue eyes and long, blonde hair.
“Do not mix with the mudbloods,” she said in her deep, cold voice, for the umpteenth time.
“Be wary of the poor wizarding families too, especially the Weasleys,” she added, gesturing at a crowd of red-headed adults and children, a few yards to their right. The Weasleys, who seemed to always wear second-hand clothes, were making a ruckus, drawing sneers and looks of disgust from the well-to-do families.
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Draco nodded vigorously. It was a sentiment that he need not have been reminded of.
“And let us talk about the sorting ceremony. You must get sorted into Slytherin in order to prove that you are a wizard of great capability,” Lucius dictated.
Draco was about to voice his approval when another, female voice, cut him short.
"But Father, that seems rather foolish. How does being selected into Slytherin House determine our magical superiority?” The voice belonged to Mara Malfoy, the older Malfoy twin. She had sharp, severe features for a girl, which also lent her beauty of her own kind.
“I understand the prejudice about wealth and influence, but wasn’t the Dark Lord a half-blood? The greatest, most powerful wizard in a century was thus a half-blood,” she argued.
Lucius ground his teeth and rage flashed across his face, momentarily. But he was acquainted with the rebellious nature of his daughter. After regaining composure, he explained to her-”there are exceptions, of course, my dear, but there is no denying the fact that mixing of blood destroys magical ability and endangers the pure-blooded families. The Great Founders of Hogwarts were pure blooded. Merlin and Grindelwald were pure-bloods.”
His voice rose as he said- “It is astounding how ignorant you are after years of learning from history tutors!”
"Forgive her, she's only a child" said Narcissa, shielding Mara. “I wish she were more like Draco.”
“Let me speak, Mother,” Mara jutted in. “Draco knows nothing more than what Father has fed him over the years.” She eyed Draco with intimidation, and the latter faltered under her stare.
She turned to Lucius. “Father, the tutors have read very few books about blood status. There is evidence that inbreeding within pure-blood families like the Gaunts, the Blacks and the Lestranges have led to mental instability and madness.”
Lucius looked blind with rage and he raised his cane.
“You dare speak against the pure blood families-
A loud whistle signalled that the Hogwarts Express was leaving the station. There was an immediate rise in the bustle, as late-comers boarded hurriedly and families started shouting good-byes over the din of the hissing steam and the blaring whistle.
Lucius gave Mara an icy glare, which meant he would tend to her when she was back during the holidays.
Narcissa kissed both Draco and Mara on the cheeks. Mara hugged her mother, while Draco flinched, embarrassed.
Lucius Malfoy straightened to his full height, and posed at Draco- ”Anyone mistreats you, let me hear of it.”
Draco nodded obediently and walked around to his cabin. He had acted resolute in the presence of his parents. But, deep-down he was nervous about his first year at Hogwarts. And worried about what trouble Mara may get into in her very first year. She was not his favourite, but she was his only sibling, and he felt he needed to protect her.
He stared out at the retreating platform, at the grim faces of his parents, who stayed until the train had completely left the platform.
As the Hogwarts Express sped across meadows, he heard the news that The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, was joining Hogwarts. Draco wondered if Harry was already accomplished in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps he could extend a hand of friendship. Who would refuse to be friends with a Malfoy?