In a corridor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Draco Malfoy stood with Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson when a nervous first-year Gryffindor passed by. Draco’s eyes flicked over them.

He stepped forward, blocking the way. “Right. First year and and a Muggle-born. You do not belong in here."

The student stopped, hesitated. “I got my letter just like everyone else.”

Draco’s lips curled faintly. “They do let anyone in these days, don’t they? Still trying to figure out which end of the wand to hold?”

A few of the nearby students slowed, watching—but not stepping in.

“I know how to use a wand,” the first-year muttered, avoiding eye-contact.

“Do you?” Draco condescending, raising a brow, do not actually care.