"Why are muggleborns usually not sorted into Slytherin?"

"They're not real wizards."

"I don't think they'd be invited to Hogwarts if that was true. Unless, they're invited and just unable to do well. Is that what you mean?"

    "Yeah."

"Bet you ten galleons," Dayo repeats. Pansy ignores him.

"I'd expect there are records somewhere. You don't need to wait seven years before collecting."

He just grins. "Very impolitical of you, you know."

    "What?" asks Millicent. Pansy is still ignoring him.

"Just, you know, ignoring people completely rather than pretending to like them."

Sarah doesn't feel like she has something to contribute so she stays silent.

"I don't think I want to stay here," says Pansy, standing up and dragging her trunk out.

Millicent looks conflicted for a second then decides to leave, too.

Sarah looks briefly conflicted but stays put. "I can't blame you for what you said. I still wish you hadn't said it though."

"—which part?"

"I don't think that confronting prejudice head on is the best way to change things. Maybe I'm wrong though, I don't know."

"It's probably not, I guess, but it was too good to pass up."

"Like I said, I don't blame you. It seems they didn't know my mother was a muggleborn. What an awful word."

Shrug. "It sounds just silly to me."

"It does sound kinda silly if you're just going by the sound of the word."

"Yep. It's just a word, I'm not about to be offended by some word that means something to another culture."

"We're going to be living in the magical world though, at least at school. It isn't just the culture of some far off place, and things aren't better for being far away anyway."

"No, I don't think they're not bad, I just think I'm not about to be offended."

"I guess that makes sense, I'm trying not to be offended either."

The door of the compartment suddenly slides open and an extremely red-haired boy sticks his head in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asks, pointing at a seat opposite Sarah. "Everywhere else is full."

"Sure, are you a first year?"

He drags his trunk in and sits, then. He has a black mark on his nose.

"Yeah. I'm Ron. Weasley."

"Dayo."

"Sarah Potter."

"Whoa. Really? So that's where You-Know-Who—" he starts, looking at the scar.