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Even though the platinum-blond boy had asked a question, his tone made it sound like a statement.
It was obvious he already knew who Harry was before stepping inside.
Flanking him were two short, heavyset boys, one on each side like bodyguards.
It was worth noting that both of them had particularly unpleasant faces.
"This is Crabbe. And this is Goyle."
The blond boy introduced his two followers casually, then announced with exaggerated emphasis,
"My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."
Dudley had attended a few so-called high-society dinners because of business.
He remembered one man who claimed to be descended from a viscount and spoke in that exact affected tone.
The difference was that Draco was far too young to pull it off properly.
The result was simply… comical.
Ron coughed under his breath to keep from laughing.
Malfoy shot him a sideways glare.
"You find my name funny?"
The contempt in his voice was obvious.
"I don't even need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, faces full of freckles, and more children than they can afford."
The superiority in his tone was so blatant that even Neville noticed.
He wanted to defend Ron, but after glancing at the two "bodyguards" beside Malfoy, he swallowed his words.
He didn't like trouble.
After mocking Ron, Malfoy turned back to Harry.
"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are far better than others, Potter. You don't want to make friends with the wrong sort. I can help you with that."
His gaze swept over Neville and Ron.
The compartment was crowded, and from his angle, he hadn't noticed Dudley or Hermione.
Then he extended his hand toward Harry.
But there was something in the gesture — arrogance, condescension — that practically said, "I'm teaching you how the world works."
'I misjudged him' Dudley thought.
'If we're competing in social incompetence, I admit defeat.'
If Hermione sometimes came across as unpleasant, Malfoy turned sarcasm up to the maximum.
"I think I can tell who the wrong sort is for myself," Harry replied coolly, not even glancing at the outstretched hand.
Ron had just praised Dudley.
And Malfoy had already mocked him once before.
For Harry, the equation was simple.
Anyone who praised Dudley was automatically a friend.
Anyone who looked down on him…
Malfoy's pale face flushed faintly red.
He hadn't expected to be rejected.
And certainly not so directly.
"If I were you, Potter, I'd be careful," he said, slowing his speech and imitating his father's tone. "You should show more respect. Otherwise, you might end up like your parents. Hanging around people like the Weasleys will only drag you down."
He didn't recognize Neville.
Even if he had, he wouldn't have said anything.
The Longbottom family held a very different position in the wizarding world.
Especially Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, who was famous for her formidable temper.
The venom in Malfoy's words made Harry and Ron stand up at once.
Neville hesitated, but he stood as well.
Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward to shield Malfoy.
"You speak in a very unpleasant way," Hermione said bluntly, as always.
Malfoy finally noticed her.
He looked her up and down with disdain.
"And who are you supposed to be?"
Ignoring her, he turned back to Harry.
"Potter, I see you've already surrounded yourself with a pack of oddballs—"
"Listen here, you little ferret," Dudley cut in. "A bit of advice. If you don't know how to talk like your father, don't try to imitate him. It just makes you look ridiculous."
"My name is Draco Malfoy!" he exploded. "I'd like to see who dares insult a Malfoy!"
He spun toward the voice in fury.
And then he saw that face again.
"Oh… you!"
He instinctively took a step back.
It was the same person who had made him run out of Madam Malkin's shop in tears.
It had been pure humiliation.
Draco's face turned red with anger.
"Crabbe! Goyle! Teach him a lesson!"
The two charged forward.
In the next instant, they were lifted off the ground by Dudley, one in each hand, like oversized plush toys.
He simply knocked their heads together as if they were cushions.
Silence fell over the compartment.
They were defeated in a single second.
Dudley's magic might not have been extraordinary.
But his physical strength alone was enough to carry him through seven years at Hogwarts without trouble.
Malfoy hadn't expected that level of brutality.
Much less for his "henchmen" to be neutralized so effortlessly.
He dropped to the floor, terrified.
Dudley walked toward him slowly.
Then crouched down.
"Listen carefully, idiot. Harry's parents are my aunt and uncle. When you insult them, you insult me. I'll overlook your ignorance this time. But I don't want it happening again."
He tilted his head slightly.
"From today on, we're classmates. Let's get along. Agreed?"
Malfoy nodded frantically.
There was nothing left of his arrogant posture.
"Now take your friends and go."
The three of them practically crawled out into the corridor.
"Amazing!" Ron exclaimed, thoroughly satisfied.
Watching Malfoy lose was deeply satisfying.
The Weasley and Malfoy families didn't just have disagreements.
Their rivalry ran deep and was practically irreparable.
At that moment, a woman pushing a trolley appeared at the door.
"Sweets? Anything from the trolley?"
Harry, now officially rich, bought one of everything.
The seats quickly filled with candy.
"Why didn't you hit them harder?" Ron asked, mouth full, still unconsciously a little too respectful.
Most children acted that way around Dudley.
Harry opened a box of Chocolate Frogs.
One of them jumped and nearly escaped through the window.
But Dudley was faster.
No food ever escaped him.
He bit into the frog with a sharp crack.
"I don't like direct violence. I've always found it rather crude. I prefer to persuade people with virtue and dialogue."
Ron fell silent.
He stared at Dudley's white teeth as they flashed.
He listened to the crisp crunch of chocolate being chewed.
And he swallowed hard.
'Doesn't like violence?'
That statement didn't match what he had just witnessed at all.
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