An unexpected turn of events.
Made Draco Malfoy feel like his brain’s CPU had burnt out.
His two sidekicks reacted faster than him.
"It’s nothing to do with us! We’re not close with Draco!"
"Yeah, yeah, we didn’t say a word after we ca in, it was Draco, the troublemaker, who’s causing trouble!" Gall and Crabbe perfectly illustrated what plastic friendship ans.
"I’m not! I didn’t!"
Draco Malfoy instinctively wanted to retort, but his gaze t Ian’s eyes, the sa color as the Killing Curse, and he felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his throat. So this is Ian Prince... the terrifying Great Demon King that his father scoffs at but all Slytherin students fear!
Truly frightening!
Draco Malfoy felt his calves trembling.
He didn’t even dare to ntion his family’s glory, knowing from relatives and friends that family honor couldn’t save him even a little bit.
"Relax a little, young junior."
Ian saw Draco Malfoy’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
He chuckled.
The three freshn destined to join Slytherin College turned even paler.
"Are we going to die?"
Gall and Crabbe were almost in tears.
And Draco Malfoy didn’t fare much better.
"It’s Daphne! It’s all Daphne who’s saring you! Really! I’ve always respected you! In private, I even call you the greater-than-great Mr. Prince!" As the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together. His speed in betraying his family’s "loyal" friends wasn’t much slower than Gall and Crabbe.
Of course.
This Little Dragon Person was better than Gall and Crabbe in knowing how to flatter while shifting bla, recalling that many House-Elves addressed the Hogwarts Demon King in such a manner.
"Daphne remains as consistently stable as ever."
Ian’s expression showed no surprise.
Seeing him speak up to judge.
Draco Malfoy imdiately attempted to shift Ian’s "hatred."
"She has a diary! It’s full of bad things about you! That diary even creates vile lies on its own! Even the one I found at ho... uh, in any case, it’s all her fault!"
Draco Malfoy displayed his tattling talent, but he abruptly stopped midway, as if realizing he shouldn’t talk about things even his parents shouldn’t know.
After witnessing Daphne’s magical diary, Draco Malfoy also wanted sothing similar, and after fruitless searches at various shops, he had a strange encounter at ho.
"I’m not interested in listening to you two biting at each other, Mr. Malfoy. Could you please apologize to and my friends?" Ian’s magic wand was already pressed against Draco Malfoy’s chin.
What else could he choose? Of course, he could only choose to follow his heart. After Draco Malfoy’s awkward "deep reflection," Ian chose not to further trouble the young junior, only after slightly indulging a small mischievous pleasure, he released the Slytherin trio from the compartnt.
"See, that’s the benefit of good magic education; it ensures others reason with you." Ian shook his magic wand and sat back down.
"Magic equates to power."
Ririm offered his comntary.
"That was truly satisfying! They were just too ridiculous! It reminded of my cousin!" Harry Potter’s expression was gleefully excited.
"What magic did you use earlier?"
Hermione’s focus was rather unique.
"Want to learn?"
Ian raised his eyebrow.
Seeing the Little Witch’s eager nod.
"The professors at school will teach you."
His answer slightly failed to et Hermione’s expectations — the atmosphere beca harmonious again, the train moved swiftly, arriving at its destination at dusk.
Everyone one after another squeezed and continuously walked off the train.
Amidst the bustling crowd.
Ian finally spotted the figure of the red-haired freckled boy — Ron Weasley, the boy who his twin brothers claim survived "hundreds of tis" at their hands.
This youngest brother of the Weasley family seed to have shared a compartnt with Neville Longbottom at the end, where he and Neville spent almost hours looking for toads.
Moreover.
So unexpected episodes occurred.
"Damned Scabbers! It actually bit your toad! Even injured your ankle! I’m definitely writing to my mom asking to have this stinky rat put down!"
Ron apologetically held a small bag for Neville.
"No... it’s nothing..."
Neville, clutching his travel-loving toad, limped as if his ankle was hurt.
"Need help?"
As Ian passed Neville, he took out a bottle of Magic Potion and handed it over — who says Neville isn’t brave? This guy’s ankle blood vessels were bitten through, yet he insisted on walking, fearing the blood wasn’t enough!
"Thank you, thank you, Ian."
Neville, a straightforward chubby kid, took the Magic Potion without questioning its effect or fearing a prank, directly unscrewed the cap, and sprinkled it on his ankle.
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