❝𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴,
𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘢❞
𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 was a somewhat quiet, yet mischievous guy who had trouble tailing him since he was a mere one year-old. He encounters a girl, whose only known attribute wa...
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LXXV. THE COLD CARRIAGE RIDE
21:12 ─❁────────── 21:79
◁ Ⅱ ▷
❝Cold smoke seeping out of colder throats
Darkness falling, leaves nowhere to go❞
༻───────────────༺
THE WEATHER BEYOND THE WINDOWS of the train was as patchy as it had been all summer; the Hogwarts Express passed through stretches of the chilling mist, then into the weak, clear sunlight. It was during one of the clear spells when the sun was finally visible almost directly overhead, that Ron and Hermione entered the compartment at last.
"Wish the lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving," said Ron longingly, slumping into the seat near the door at Harry's other side, rubbing his stomach. "Hi, Neville. Hi, Luna. Guess what?" he added, turning to Harry. "Malfoy's not doing prefect duty. He's just sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, we saw him when we passed."
As Lucia fed Bao Bao, she saw Harry sat up straight, interested. It was not like Malfoy to pass up the chance to demonstrate his power as prefect, which he had happily abused the previous year.
"What did he do when he saw you?" Harry asked immediately.
"The usual," said Ron indifferently, demonstrating a rude hand gesture. "Not like him, though, is it? Well — that is" — he did the hand gesture again — "but why isn't he out there bullying first years?"
"Dunno," said Harry, but his mind was racing. Didn't this look as though Malfoy had more important things on his mind than bullying younger students?
"Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad," said Hermione. "Maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that."
"I can imagine that," said Lucia, nodding. "The Inquisitorial Squad didn't really have any limits in power over the students, so it does seem fairly tame for someone power hungry..."
"I don't think so," said Harry. "I think he's —"
But before he could expound on his theory, the compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside.
"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom, Luciana DiFiore, and Harry P-Potter," she faltered, as her eyes met Harry's and she turned scarlet. She was holding out three scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Perplexed, Lucia, Harry, and Neville took the scroll addressed to each of them and the girl stumbled back out of the compartment.
