The door to their compartment was opened again and three boys stepped in, it was a young master and his cronies. The young master stepped forward and-

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry looking at two troll-human hybrids with a mean look in their eyes.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," he said carelessly "and my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

'Someone's watched too many bond films.' Ben thought amusedly.

It seemed Ben was not the only one amused, the young master looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Ben could not help but chuckle at this, a bit of Ron bashing was always welcomed and sometimes Darco did voice what was on everyone else's mind.

"And who might you be?" the young master asked, pleased with Ben laughing at Ron. The other two were not so impressed.

"Benedict Brown, at your service young master." Ben stood up and bowed a little, trying to match the Young master's sauve.

"Brown, hm-never heard of you." The young master was now even more pleased, seeing the peasant falling in line.

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter, Brown seems to understand this. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

The young master was slapped in the face by the protagonist and was not pleased, a pink tinge appeared on his jade white cheeks.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Potter,” he said slowly. “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it’ll rub off on you.”

Both Harry and Ron stood up.

“Say that again,” Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

“Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?” The young master sneered.

“Unless you get out now,” said Harry, with as much courage as he could muster in front of the troll halflings.

“But we don’t feel like leaving, do we, boys? We’ve eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.”

Before the trio could take a step forward, a blue flash of lightning struck in front of them.

"Ah- apologies young master, there was a big spider there," said Ben stuttering.

"Y-you see I'm v-very scared of s-spiders, it triggers my magic."

There was a shocked look on everyone's faces, no one understood what was going on.

"T-there!" Ben screamed and pointed between the Troll's legs and a flash of lightning struck between his legs. Then he pointed between the other lackey's legs and another flash of lightning struck.

The trolls started screaming and crying for their mother, not caring about the young master's image.

"M-my apologies, young master, I-I can't control it. There it is!" Ben stuttered and put up an act that could put Quirrell to shame and blasted another spark of lightning between Malfoys legs.

The Young master lept and grabbed his lacked and ran out of the compartment.

"My father will know about this!!" He yelled.

'Typical Young master.' Ben smirked and returned to his seat, he was faced with two staring faces with unhinged jaws. He just shrugged at them like every other protagonist ever.

"Merlin's saggy ball sack, how did you do that?" Ron asked with a shake in his voice.

"As I said, I'm scared of spiders, it happened on its own," Ben said calmly opening his book.

"That's Hippogriff shit and you know it, I'm the one that's scared of spiders, and that's never happened to me," Ron said, unwilling to buy whatever Ben was selling.

Harry on the other hand didn't have any words left, he had electrified uncle Vernon with magic before but he had never been able to control it.

Soon Hermione Granger entered the compartment.

“What has been going on?” she said, looking at the burnt marks on the floor.

"Nothing, just a spider came in the room," Ben replied.

"There's no spider, I'm willing to eat my wand if there is." said the read-head looking at Harry.

"Can we help you with something?" Ben asked Hermione, trying to divert their attention.

“You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!”

"Tell him that, we haven't lifted a finger," said Ron pointing at me.

"It was accidental magic, I didn't even touch my wand."

Everyone looked at him, Ron and Harry finding it hard to believe, but they decided not to comment any further.

"Would you mind leaving while we change?" said Ron.

“All right, I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffy voice. “And you’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?”

Unlike in the movies, there was no uniform for Hogwarts, except for the robe. So the boys took off their jackets and put on their long black robes.

Ron and Harry started talking about Malfoys and their own experiences with accidental magic.

It was almost nighttime, the sky was deep purple when a voice echoed in the train announcing that they will be arriving at their station in five minutes.

Harry and Ron stuffed the remaining food in their pockets while Ben had already stashed everything in his trunk.

The train slowed down and people rushed towards the door, Ben was not in a hurry and slowly walked out behind Harry and Ron.

"Thanks for helping back there," said Harry before climbing down the train, and Ben nodded a little like the protagonist of a poorly written novel.

The shivering cold air assaulted their bodies as they left the comfort of the train, and then a lamp came bobbing over everyone. Then a gruff loud voice was heard.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here! All right there, Harry?”

A/N:I am not sure whether I wrote "Young Master" 12 or 14 times in this chapter, comment down below if you kept the count.