13: Chapter 13 The Disturbance in Harry's Carriage

By the afternoon, the noise on the train had died down a little.

The candy trolley passed through the corridor, its copper wheels rolling over the floor with a faint, crisp sound. Crabbe bought a huge pile of Cauldron Cakes, and Goyle stared at a Chocolate Frog box for a long time, finally asking Draco: "Will this run away?"

Draco ignored him.

He was sitting opposite Allen, holding a piece of peppermint hard candy in his hand, but hadn't eaten it for ages.

Allen was getting annoyed by his staring.

"If you want to ask, just ask."

Draco put the candy back into the bag: "You said earlier that I shouldn't provoke Harry casually."

"Hmm."

"Then what if I'm going to befriend him?"

Allen opened his eyes and looked at him for two seconds.

Draco felt uncomfortable being watched: "What?"

"How do you plan to befriend him?"

Draco straightened his back: "Tell him who is worth being friends with and who isn't."

Allen closed his eyes again: "That's not called befriending; that's called notifying."

Crabbe, with his mouth stuffed with cake, mumbled: "Isn't notifying good?"

"It depends on who is doing the notifying," Allen said. "Harry grew up in the Muggle world and doesn't buy into that pure-blood circle nonsense. He won't understand the nuances of your words; he'll just think you're ordering him around."

Draco frowned: "I'm just telling him the facts. The Weasley Family is naturally—"

"Stop," Allen interrupted. "If you want to fail, you can say that exact sentence to him."

Draco was unconvinced, but didn't immediately retort.

He looked toward the corridor. Someone was passing outside the compartment—red hair, wearing old robes. The signs of the Weasley Family were too recognizable; it would be hard to mistake them.

Draco stared at that flash of red, held back for a few seconds, but then stood up anyway.

"I'm going to take a look."

Allen didn't stop him.

Draco walked to the door, then turned back: "You're not coming?"

"I'm sleepy."

"Don't you want to see your cousin?"

"He won't get lost."

Draco snorted and left the compartment with Crabbe and Goyle.

After the door closed, Allen opened his eyes.

Of course he had to watch.

Not out of concern for Harry, but to confirm if the plot had deviated.

Harry had to sit with Ron, and he had to be pushed away by Draco in the worst possible way. That was one of the starting points for the Gryffindor trio.

Fate is sometimes unreasonable, but it is very punctual.

Allen got up and pushed open the compartment door. The corridor wasn't wide, and a few students were crowded in front sharing candy. He didn't get too close, just stood in the shadows at the corner, watching from two compartments away.

Draco had already found Harry.

Harry was sitting by the window, with a red-haired boy opposite him, a battered pet cage on his knees. The table in the compartment was piled with candy wrappers, and Chocolate Frog cards were scattered everywhere.

Ron Weasley.

The poor kid from the original story, one of the future trio.

Draco stood at the door, with Crabbe and Goyle blocking half the corridor, looking quite imposing.

"You must be Harry Potter?"

Harry looked up, his expression reasonably polite: "Yes."

Draco extended his hand: "I'm Draco Malfoy. You'll soon find that some Wizard families are much better than others. You wouldn't want to be hanging around with the wrong sort."

He looked at Ron's old robes, the meaning obvious.

Ron's ears turned red.

Harry's smile vanished.

Allen stood in the distance, mentally keeping a tally against Draco.

Extending his hand to start, offending the target's friend with the second sentence, and exposing his sense of superiority with the third.

If Lucius saw this, he would probably want to stuff his son back into the manor to be re-educated for half a year.

Ron spoke first: "Who are you calling the wrong sort?"

Draco glanced at him: "Red hair, old robes, and so many children in the family that you can't afford to raise them. You must be a Weasley."

Crabbe laughed, and Goyle, a beat slower, followed suit.

Ron's face flushed red, and his hand reached toward the wand beside the pet cage. That wand was incredibly old, almost threadbare, but his courage was brand new.

Harry stood up.

He didn't take Draco's hand.

"I think I can tell for myself who is worth being friends with."

The words weren't heavy, but they slapped Draco's face quite effectively.

Allen leaned against the wall of the carriage, unable to resist evaluating in his mind: The textbook answer.

Draco's hand remained in mid-air. Pulling it back wouldn't do, and keeping it extended looked even worse.

He lowered his hand, staring at Harry: "You'll regret this."

Ron snorted: "What would he regret? Not sitting with someone like you?"

Goyle took a half-step forward, and the compartment door creaked under the pressure.

Ron also stood up; although he was a bit shorter, he didn't lose in terms of presence.

Harry gripped his own wand, his movements awkward, but his attitude was already clear.

That was enough.

Draco didn't actually intend to start a fight on the train. The new students hadn't even enrolled yet; if he got into a brawl on the Express, Lucius wouldn't praise him for having guts when he got home.

He turned around with a cold face.

Crabbe and Goyle followed. Before Goyle left, he glanced at the Cauldron Cakes on the table, only to be dragged away by Crabbe.

Allen retreated back to his own compartment.

Not long after, the door was pulled open.

After Draco came in, he shut the door a bit too hard.

Crabbe and Goyle stood to the side, not daring to speak. Even the sound of candy wrappers stopped in the compartment.

Allen leaned back in his seat: "How did the talk go?"

Draco sat down, his tone terrible: "He chose the Weasley."

"That's normal."

"Normal?" Draco stared at him. "That Weasley is dressed like he just crawled out of a junk pile."

"Harry isn't short on money," Allen said. "Using money and your surname to pressure him is useless. What he lacks is the first person willing to sit across from him and talk to him."

Draco's expression became even uglier.

This hit the mark.

He was one step too late.

It wasn't about status; it was about position.

Harry met Ron at his most awkward moment. Ron explained the Wizarding world to him, bought candy with him, and stood up to the Malfoy who came to provoke them.

Someone who shares snacks in a compartment is easier to remember than someone standing at the door issuing orders.

Draco didn't want to admit it, but he understood.

Allen continued: "You made three mistakes just now."

Draco looked up: "Three?"

"First, you didn't ask what he needed. Second, you disparaged someone he just met right in front of him. Third, you framed the Malfoy choice as something Harry had to accept."

Crabbe felt a headache listening: "Does this have to be counted too?"

Allen looked at him: "Of course. If you don't account for stupid mistakes clearly, you'll just make them again next time."

Goyle nodded: "Then we did three things just now."

Draco glared at him: "Shut up."

Goyle shut up quite skillfully.

Draco held back for a long time before asking: "Then tell me, what should I do?"

Allen didn't answer immediately. He pulled the curtain open a little; outside, the fields were receding, the sky was darkening, and the train was getting closer and closer to Hogwarts.

"Stop circling around Harry."

Draco was taken aback.

Allen looked at him: "The Chosen One won't lack for company. Dumbledore will watch over him, Gryffindor will embrace him, the Weasley Family will pull him in, and sooner or later, smarter people will stand by his side. If you try to squeeze in, you'll just become a joke."

Draco didn't speak.

This sounded even worse than the failure just now.

But he couldn't find any room to retort.

Allen picked up a book, opened it, and closed it again: "You need your own circle."

"I have Crabbe and Goyle."

Crabbe puffed out his chest.

Goyle also puffed out his chest and tucked the candy bag closer to his chest.

Allen glanced at them: "They're fine for fighting and eating. But to get things done, it's not enough."

Crabbe's chest deflated.

Draco didn't yell at anyone.

For the first time, he listened to this sentence seriously.

"Then who is enough?"

"Slytherin freshmen," Allen said. "Pure-bloods, half-bloods, the smart ones, those with connections, those who don't submit to you, those who pretend to submit to you. You need to look at all of them. Harry has the reputation of The Chosen One, and you have the Malfoy surname, but neither of these can help you manage people."

Draco slowly leaned back into his seat.

He was thinking.

What Allen said didn't sound like something a freshman would care about. But the train had only been running for half the journey, and he had already suffered a loss.

Harry rejected his hand, Ron defied him to his face, and Crabbe and Goyle just stood there adding bulk.

And they hadn't even arrived at school yet.

Draco was suddenly feeling irritable.

"So, you're telling me to let Harry go?"

"No," Allen said. "I'm telling you not to treat him as a target."

"Then what should I treat him as?"

"A point of reference."

Draco frowned.

Allen placed the book on his lap: "The whole school will watch Harry. Professors will watch, students will watch, and enemies will watch. Wherever he goes, trouble will follow. You don't need to chase after him; just observe who gathers around him, who is helping him, and who is using him—that's enough."

The compartment fell silent.

The sound of the wheels came from beneath their feet, one beat after another.

Draco's temper was suppressed quite a bit. The annoyance of failure was still there, but something else had been added to it.

He didn't like to lose.

And he liked losing this stupidly even less.

"Did you guess I would fail from the start?" he asked.

Allen closed his eyes again: "I warned you."

Draco remembered the words "That's not called befriending; that's called notifying," and his face darkened again.

Crabbe leaned in and asked in a low voice: "Draco, will we still look for Harry in the future?"

Draco didn't answer.

Goyle said: "I think that redhead is quite loud."

"So don't learn from him," Allen said.

Goyle nodded very seriously.

Draco looked at Allen and suddenly asked: "Why don't you go find Harry? You're relatives. If you spoke up, he would probably listen to you."

"What's the point if he listens?"

"He is The Chosen One."

"He is also trouble."

Draco was stunned.

Allen's answer was too direct, so direct that it couldn't be doubted.

He really didn't want to rely on Harry.

This made Draco feel a bit better. At least on this point, Allen hadn't lied to him.

Allen added: "The noisier it is over on Harry's side, the quieter it is on ours. It's better to get things done when it's quiet."

Draco chewed on this sentence a few times.

He used to like the noise. He liked having others watch him, listen to him, and surround him, saying how amazing the Malfoy family was.

But just now, when Harry rejected him in front of the Weasley, that kind of noise only made him feel humiliated.

Perhaps it would be better to change his approach.

The train drove deeper into the countryside, and the sky began to darken. There were fewer students in the corridor, and the candy trolley had long since gone.

Draco didn't go to the front again.

He sat opposite, so quiet he didn't resemble the young master Malfoy who had just boarded the train.

Allen leaned back into his seat, sleepiness washing over him.

Very good.

Harry had found Ron.

Draco had suffered a loss.

The original timeline was still moving forward, while another line had already begun to veer toward his side.