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"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?"

"Oh, sure, don't even say 'hi' to me, Draco," Neville complained. "I see how it is. One day it's 'Don't go making friends with the wrong sort, Neville' and the next it's 'Out of my way, I want to crowd the famous person.'"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Hi, Neville. Clearly you don't need any advice about making friends with the wrong sort if you've managed to snag Harry Potter. Although I don't recognize this girl."

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione introduced, holding her hand out for him to shake.

Draco accepted the handshake without looking at her. "Draco Malfoy. And you are?"

Harry sighed internally. And so it began. Not that he minded being famous or anything but being known for himself instead of his famous father was still a bit overwhelming and he'd been having fun with Neville and Hermione. "I'm Harry Potter, yes."

"Why were you so certain this was Harry?" Neville asked curiously. "Did you seriously check every other compartment but this one?"

"I have the worst luck," Draco grumbled. "Listen, Potter, you're new to Magical Britain and you might go making friends with the wrong sort-"

"Oh, what's this? I go making friends with Harry and you stop worrying about my taste in friends but he makes friends with me and suddenly needs your help?" Neville cried out in mock-outrage. "Draco, I don't know how to say this but…it's like going off to Hogwarts has made you a completely different person, one that I barely even recognize."

Draco rolled his eyes again. "Your grandmother was talking to my parents while we stood by not even an hour ago."

Neville shrugged. "The speed just makes your horrible transformation even more hurtful."

When In Doubt, Obliviate, Chapter 9