Draco Malfoy

The Hogwarts Express pulled away from Platform 9, gently rocking on the rails. Draco Malfoy was sitting in one of the compartments with the Slytherin students. His silver hair was perfectly styled, and his robes were neatly smoothed.

He was alone, and he was fine with that. On the table in front of him was the Daily Prophet newspaper, a cup of hot chocolate, and several sheets of parchment with his carefully prepared notes for the school year.

However, his peace was disturbed by the sharp creak of the compartment door. A figure burst into the compartment and disrupted the perfect order. A girl about his age ran inside, slammed the door behind her, and pressed her back against it. There was a look of panic on her face, as if she had just run away from someone or something.

Draco slowly raised his head. His gray eyes met her irritated gaze.
"You've got the wrong door," he said coldly, barely raising an eyebrow.