Malfoy had just stumbled out of Harry Potter's compartment.
Although he knew Potter was not from a pure-blood family, the fame surrounding him in the wizarding world made him keen to extend a hand of friendship—so long as Harry distanced himself from certain people.
The problem was that Harry detested the "Saviour" title and the crown of thorns that came with it. He disliked Malfoy's condescending tone almost as much as he loathed Dudley's swagger.
"Longbottom, can't you control your damn toad?" Malfoy snapped, pulling a napkin from his robes to wipe away the chocolate and slime. "Forgot—you're a pauper, just like Weasley."
Hermione, who had felt a stab of guilt, swallowed back her apology at his haughty tone.
The pale, golden-haired boy was unmistakably the Malfoy Neville had spoken of. The two hulking boys beside him looked more like bodyguards than classmates.
Neville turned away, clutching Trevor. "Serves him right," he muttered, though his heart was heavy.
From the open compartment door, two more heads appeared: a red-haired boy and Harry himself.
"If I were you, Potter, I wouldn't associate with the likes of Weasley and Longbottom," Malfoy drawled. "You should learn respect, or you'll end up like your parents."
Malfoy, his pride stung, tried to leave with Crabbe and Goyle, but the crowded carriage hemmed them in.
Harry's fists clenched. Malfoy's words rang in his ears, stoking the fire in his chest. For a moment he remembered Nietzsche standing over Dudley, fists flying. If you're going to get hit anyway, better to hit back.
With a roar, Harry launched himself at Malfoy. Fist met flesh. The pain was sharp, but the thrill of striking back for once was intoxicating.
"They're fighting… and it's the first day of school!"
"Watch closely, Hermione." Nietzsche arched an eyebrow. "This is the wizarding world in miniature. A family feud. Weasley and Malfoy clearly don't get along."
Hermione groaned. "So much trouble before term even begins… I don't want to deal with this."
But Crabbe and Goyle waded in, hauling Harry and Ron down by the shoulders while Malfoy, like a wounded peacock, tried to retreat.
"Goyle, Crabbe, hold Potter and Weasley. Longbottom, out of my way!"
He barreled towards Neville, clutching his stomach. Neville froze. But though he stumbled, he didn't fall aside—Nietzsche's hand was steadying him from behind.
"I said get out of my way! And you two—mudbloods!"
Malfoy's sneer cut towards Nietzsche and Hermione, their Muggle clothes making them stand out among wizard-born students.
"Don't let him through, Longbottom!" one of the twins shouted from further down. The Weasley brothers had appeared at the other end of the carriage, blocking any escape.
The fight spiralled into chaos.
Harry, bloodied but furious, shouted hoarsely, "I'll show you whether my parents' fate was deserved, Malfoy!"
"Don't get involved," Hermione muttered, rubbing her temples.
Nietzsche only grinned, eyes gleaming. At last Harry had taken a stand. Even if he looked frail, he had fought back—and that, Nietzsche thought, was worth everything.
Ron, pinned under Goyle, sank his teeth into the boy's hand. With a howl, Goyle let go. Harry scrambled up, but Malfoy swung wildly, driving a fist straight at Nietzsche.
Nietzsche didn't move. He stood as though paralysed.
Hermione sighed, rolled her eyes, and drew her wand.
"Immobulus!"
Malfoy froze mid-swing, his fist hovering inches from Nietzsche's nose.
Neville gaped. "You can use spells already?"
"Not very well," Hermione admitted, cheeks flushed. "After all, our parents aren't wizards."
Nietzsche sniffed, ignoring her glare. His plan had worked: whether Neville or Hermione acted, the outcome was in his favour.
"Thank you, Miss-By-the-Book-Suddenly-Breaking-the-Rules."
"You planned that! Your wand was in your sleeve all along!"
He only smirked, refusing to answer.
Hermione's excitement betrayed her despite herself. The way her fingernails worried at the vine-wood wand handle told Nietzsche she was secretly pleased at what she had done.
"You two, get off Harry and his friend," Nietzsche said calmly, leaning on his cane. "Or would you rather Neville haul you off instead?"
Crabbe and Goyle glanced at Hermione's wand and let go, dragging Malfoy's frozen body away.
"We'll remember you!" they snarled.
Nietzsche raised his cane threateningly. "Do you even know who I am? No? And still you make threats?"
The two boys paled and fled with Malfoy in tow.
The farce ended before any Prefects arrived.
The Weasley twins were jubilant.
"Train Queen! Train Queen!"
"Stop it, George… Help me up, I think Crabbe broke my spine."
"Ron, you were flattened, but it was very Gryffindor of you. By the way, I'm Fred, he's George."
"Get out!" Ron grumbled, staggering upright.
Harry, flushed and shaking from adrenaline, could barely stand, but his punch to Malfoy's stomach had been worth it.
Nietzsche clapped his hands theatrically. "Congratulations to our Train Queen—Hermione Granger, who single-handedly restored order on the Hogwarts Express!"
The crowd erupted with cheers and laughter. Hermione, crimson but secretly proud, lifted her chin.
Harry, still buzzing, pulled out coins. "Eat whatever you want. I'm paying! Two pumpkin juices to start!"
Hermione swept past Nietzsche, chest tight with pride, but not without stamping on his foot for good measure.
"Enjoy your lunch, Lady Granger," he said lightly, slipping his wand back into his waistband as he followed Harry, Ron and Neville into their compartment.