Chapter 1.

"Platform 9 ¾, I should have asked when I could," Harry muttered to himself under his breath as he looked around desperately for some kind of hint as to where the platform was. Maybe there would be a sign or something? A magical sign? He might have missed it during his 4th (or was it 5th?) lap around the platform.

What if there was a mistake and he wasn't magic after all. What if Hagrid was wrong. What if he had to go back to the Dursleys, Uncle Vernon's already left and he didn't have any cash for a cab, though maybe someone would lend him some cash if he asked nicely? (Or maybe, a part of his mind whispered, he could just take this chance to run away. He did have a trust vault after all.)

Harry turned his trolley once more ignoring the looks of the other people at the platform and resigned himself to making another lap.

"Excuse me,"

Harry spun around, nearly knocking Hedwig's cage off the trolley and only the other boy's quick reactions saved her from what would have probably been an extremely uncomfortable tumble.

"Sorry, er, thank you." He stammered out, feeling his cheeks heat up as he kept his eyes on the floor.

"No, that's quite alright. Though you might want to try and keep your owl out of sight. It's drawing the muggles' attention."

Harry's eyes shot up and he gaped at the other boy who was watching him with barely hidden amusement.

"You - you're a wizard?"

"No, I just happen to like using made up words when talking to complete strangers in a public area." He said dryly. "Yes, I do go to Hogwarts. First year? I assume you're looking for the platform." The not-quite-a-question was accompanied by a raised eyebrow.

"Er, yes, I've forgotten to ask Hagrid," Harry replied sheepishly.

The older boy raised his other eyebrow at the mention of Hagrid but didn't say anything further before taking the handle of Harry's trolley and gesturing towards him to follow.

"Well then, come along now."

Harry trotted up to his side as they walked back towards platform 9 and 10, feeling a little shy in front of someone who acted so self-assured, "Thanks. I was terrified I'd miss the train and have to go back to my relatives. I'm Harry, by the way, Harry Potter."

The other boy's eyes flickered towards his forehead almost immediately, and Harry self-consciously shook his head so his bangs covered his scar. The boy's gaze returned to the front. "Evans. You can call me Evans. Second year at Hogwarts."

"Oh. Okay."

The conversation sort of died as the two silently made their way towards wherever it was they were going. Just as Harry was working up the nerve to ask him about Hogwarts the older boy stopped.

"Er, I'd sort of already checked platforms 9 and 10…" Harry trailed off as he realized the older boy was smirking slightly, and before Harry could ask him what exactly was so funny, Evans pushed him lightly towards the wall next to him, and when he raised his hand to brace himself, he fell through the bloody brick wall.

With a yelp, he stumbled through and barely managed to regain his balance in time to move away before Evans came through as well, with all of Harry's belongings.

"A bloody warning would have been nice." Harry snapped at him before he could stop himself, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"My apologies. I couldn't quite resist." Evans replied with a perfectly straight face, completely unrepentant. He paused briefly, "Also, language."

Just as Harry was about to retort to that, he was almost run over by a trolley that came through the wall after them.

"Sorry, mate didn't see you there." The redhead who came through said cheerfully as he moved to the side right as another redhead appeared.

"Oi, Fred, found Lee yet? Oh. Funny seeing you here Evans."

The first redhead who had seemingly just noticed the older boy next to Harry agreed, "Yeah, thought you'd already be on the train."

Evans gave them a disinterested look before replying, "I fancied a bit of a walk before leaving. Not that it's any of your business, Weasley."

The twins gave him a long look when the second redhead (or was he the first? Harry couldn't quite tell) rolled his eyes and his face suddenly broke out into a grin. "No need to get your knickers in a twist, we were just curious. See you at the feast then?"

"I'd prefer not to." An almost pained look crossed Evans' face as he answered, but the twins just laughed before moving on to board the train chatting to each other about 'Lee' 'greasy' and 'a chamber pot'.

"... Chamber pot?"

"If I don't want to know, neither do you," Evans said, quite firmly for someone just a year older than Harry himself. He seemed to be about to leave when he hesitated and turned back towards him.

"Is there anything you'd like to ask about Hogwarts or the Wizarding World in general? There isn't much time so do try to be quick."

Instantly Harry's mind, which had been brimming with questions since Hagrid had given him his letter, went through all the possible questions he could ask. What's Hogwarts like, where is it, what kind of spells do they teach, what are the teachers like, (do you think the other kids will like me, are you sure I'm a wizard, why did Voldemort try to kill me, why am I alive).

"Do you, do you have any advice for, you know, er, being a wizard?"

The older boy paused and gave him a very wry look. "I hope you realize that doesn't really count as being quick."

"Sorry," Harry said quickly and looked down, cursing silently when he felt his face heat up again.

"For one, don't apologize unless you've actually done something wrong and stop talking to your shoes. It makes people think it would be easy to walk over you. You don't want that especially not if you're the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry nodded quickly and realizing he could still see his shoes raised his head so he met the other boy's hazel eyes.

"Use your words, don't expect people to know what you're thinking, and don't expect people to be thinking the way you do. You'd be surprised by how ridiculous wizards and witches can be. And for Merlin's sake, keep an open mind and think before you speak or act. Don't let other people make your opinions for you. Make your own from whatever facts you can gather and base your decisions on them."

Harry nodded again, and when Evans raised his eyebrow at him, he cleared his throat, "Right. Got it. That's, er, that's quite… deep."

Evans' lips quirked up in a slight smile. "I suggest you try to read at least a few chapters of your textbooks before class, especially transfiguration and potions, and finish your school work as soon as you can. Also, don't hesitate to ask older students for help, at least during the first week or so. I've found most students like to show off to first years. You'd actually be doing them a favor."

"Okay," Harry said firmly and drew in a breath, "Think before I do anything, talk to people, read ahead, especially for transfiguration and potions, do my school work on time, ask others for help, and don't apologize." At the other boy's look, he hastily added. "Unless I've done something wrong. Then I should apologize."

"Lovely," Evans said dryly before gesturing towards the train. "It was a pleasure meeting you. I expect to see you during the Sorting."

Harry nodded. There was a pause. Evans sighed and added pointedly, "Goodbye."

"Oh! Oh. Sorry. I mean, I'm not sorry, just, sorry, goodbye." Harry said glumly but Evans just gave him another one of his just-barely-there smiles (the Wizarding World's way of adding hyphens on everything was rubbing off on him) and boarded the train without any other comment.

As he watched the older boy leave, and as he himself turned to board the train, Harry felt a rush of excitement that left him feeling breathless and giddy. Maybe, maybe things would actually work out, and finally, he'd be able to call someplace home.

Now, all he needed to do was get all his luggage onboard without pulling a muscle.

"Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full."

Harry looked up from his potions textbook and blinked at the boy standing nervously at the door to the compartment. The ginger shifted, clearly uncomfortable, as his ears started to turn an interesting shade of red.

"'Course you can, sorry, I'll just get my things out of the way," Harry said quickly and winced inwardly. Don't apologize unless you've actually done something wrong you dunce, he scolded himself as he put his books back into his bag. The boy sat down across from Harry, and seemingly unable to stop himself, blurt out,

"You can't already be studying? We haven't even arrived!"

Feeling rather defensive Harry pulled his potions textbook closer to himself, "It's not like I've anything else to do. Besides, there's nothing wrong with reading ahead a bit. One of the older students said it'd be useful especially for potions and transfiguration."

The other boy looked slightly uncomfortable and shifted in his seat, "Well, I suppose so. Fred and George did say Snape was a greasy git."

There was a brief awkward pause when neither boy knew exactly how to go on after their not-so-friendly first bit of conversation, but soon the other boy cleared his throat and plowed over the silence. "I'm Ron, Ronald Weasley. First year at Hogwarts."

Ridiculously grateful, Harry replied eagerly, "I'm Harry, Harry Potter. I'm a first year too. Nice to meet you."

Ron gaped at him, "You're the Boy-Who-Lived!" His eyes darted around the (completely empty aside from themselves, Harry thought with no little bemusement) compartment before leaning forward and whispering quite loudly, "Can I see, you know?" He gestured vaguely towards his own forehead then Harry's before settling to look at him hopefully.

His bemusement growing in the face of Ron's obvious anticipation, Harry grinned and lifted his bangs in a show of uncharacteristic confidence to show the other boy his scar. He was rewarded by Ron's breathless 'Wicked.'

"Does it hurt?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh, "No! It's been years, 'course it doesn't hurt."

Ron shrugged, "Well, it's a cursed scar. Anything could happen with cursed scars."

"Scars can be cursed?"

"Anything can be cursed! My dad had to work overtime for a week once, 'cause some git thought it'd be funny to sell a muggle a cursed teapot. Poor bloke had to stay at St. Mungo's for a month before they obliviated him and let him go."

"St. Mungo's?"

Ron stared at him. "The wizarding hospital? You know, where you go when you need to see a healer?"

This time it was Harry's turn to shrug and shift uncomfortably. "I don't know much about the Wizarding World. My relatives who raised me were muggles."

Ron blinked. "Blimey." Suddenly a thought seemed to dawn on him. "You do know Quidditch though?"

"It's a sport?" Ron stared at him in horror.

"Quidditch isn't just a sport!"

Just as he was about to go on a spiel about how 'Quidditch isn't just a sport, it's the Best Thing In The World' there was a knock and the door to their compartment slid open. A woman poked her head through.

"Anything off the trolley dears?"

Harry took one look at the trolley laden with sweets and made up his mind. They could talk about the greatness of Quidditch while having a little snack.

Ron was about to turn his rat yellow when the door to the compartment opened.

"Hello, has anyone seen a toad? A boy called Neville's lost one. Oh, were you about to do magic? Let's see it then."

Harry exchanged a bewildered look with Ron as the bushy haired girl who'd just barged into their compartment crossed her arms and looked expectantly at Ron. He shrugged, cleared his throat and said,

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,

turn this stupid fat rat yellow!"

Absolutely nothing happened.

"I think his whiskers look a bit different?" Harry offered.

"I don't think that's a real spell, or if it is it's not a very good one is it? I've tried a few simple spells myself just for practice, and they've all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, so it was such a surprise to get my letter. A pleasant surprise of course. I'm Hermione, by the way, Hermione Granger."

"Uh, Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter."

"Are you really?" The girl, Granger asked Harry curiously. "I know all about you, of course - you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?"

"Goodness didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. Oh! You've been reading! May I take a look?"

Feeling rather numb, Harry nodded, and Granger daintily stepped over the many sweets littering the floor and carefully sat next to him, picking up his long-forgotten potions textbook. Harry felt a twinge of guilt at already forgetting what Evans had told him, but quickly reminded himself they hadn't even gotten to Hogwarts yet, and he had plenty of time to read before classes began.

"Potions is quite fascinating, isn't it? There are so many different ingredients that can make so many different potions, just by changing whether you cut, or dice, or crush them, and they can be used in so many different ways as well! I've read some books that say brewing potions is quite similar to cooking, but personally, I think cooking can hardly compare."

"Um, why's that?"

"Since even changing a single step in the instructions when brewing can drastically change the outcome of the potion of course! Even if you accidentally add the potatoes before the carrots, you can still make a perfectly fine curry, but if you accidentally add aconite before porcupine quills, the potion could have the opposite effect you intended!"

Harry blinked. "Oh." He could see Ron rolling his eyes and mouthing 'know-it-all' while Granger was engrossed in his textbook.

"Er, didn't you say you were looking for a toad?"

"Oh." Granger frowned slightly as she put down Harry's book. "I suppose I should go back to looking." With clear reluctance, she stood up and walked back towards the door. Just as she was about to leave she turned back and told them primly, "You should change into your robes, by the way, we're nearly there. Oh, and you have dirt on your nose. Right here." And with a tap on the side of her nose, Granger left.

"Know-it-all," Ron muttered under his breath with a scowl. "I don't really have dirt on my nose do I?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, "Just a little? On the side?"

Ron's scowl deepened and he took to rubbing his nose with more force. "Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it." He said firmly. Harry nodded. It wasn't that he didn't like Granger, it was just... she felt like just a bit too much for him to keep up with on a daily basis.

"What house are your brothers in?"

"Gryffindor. Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

Harry hesitated a bit before saying, "I'm sure Slytherin can't be too bad, after all about a quarter of all wizards and witches are Slytherins aren't they?"

"But You-Know-Who was in Slytherin!" Ron exclaimed in disbelief, "Everyone knows they're the most… keen… on the Dark Arts. Besides," he added, almost as an afterthought, "their house animal's a snake and snakes are sort of creepy don't you think?"

Personally, Harry didn't think there was anything wrong with snakes, but he was unwilling to start a disagreement with his first tentative friend so soon, so he just nodded and changed the subject back to Ron's family, and Ron immediately launched into a story about his brother Charlie and how he rescued a dragon from some smugglers. Even as he was listening to the story and nodding along at all the right placed, Harry couldn't help but worry - what if he ended up in Slytherin. Would they still be able to be friends then?

Stuffed with this sweet and that Ron was regaling Harry with the tale of how Ginny snuck into their broom shed in the middle of the night to practice flying when the door slid open again.

"I've heard rumors that Harry Potter's here, is it true?" The blond boy in the middle, whom Harry recognized from Madam Malkins, demanded.

"That's me?" Harry offered uncertainly as he looked up at the boy.

"So it's true then?" The boy said pompously, barely sparing a glance at Ron before turning back to Harry, completely disregarding the other boy. "That's Crabbe and that's Goyle. I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Ron let out a snort. Immediately Malfoy turned towards him with a sneer. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. Red hair, hand-me-down robes, obviously a Weasley."

With that, Malfoy turned back to Harry and extended his hand, ignoring the way Ron's face and neck flushed.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Malfoy said, looking at Harry expectantly with his hand held out, clearly under the belief that he would choose what was right. Pity their idea on what was right didn't seem to match.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," Harry replied cooly, without even glancing at the extended hand. Malfoy blinked, then started turning a rather unflattering shade of red himself. He narrowed his eyes and told Harry angrily, "You'll regret this, Potter."

Harry replied steadily, "I don't think I will."

After Malfoy spun around and left the compartment with his two goons following behind him, Harry let out a huff and turned back to Ron, only to see the other boy looking at him with a mixture of relief and gratitude.

"Thanks, mate," he said with a cautious smile.

"It's fine. That's what friends are for anyway." Harry replied quickly, not quite able to look up. When he ventured a quick glance, he couldn't help the grin that broke through when he saw the widest smile he'd seen so far on Ron's face.

"Yeah, that's what friends are for," Ron said happily. "Hey, can I have another one of those chocolate frogs?"

Standing inside the Great Hall with all of the other first years, waiting to be sorted, Harry felt his insecurities rising once more. What if this was all just a big mistake. What if the hat said he didn't belong in Hogwarts. What if it decided he didn't belong in any of the houses - he was just Harry, and to be honest, he didn't feel particularly brave, or loyal, or clever, or even ambitious. He felt just a bit queasy, and if only the hat had mentioned a house for the nervous. At least then he'd know where he'd fit in.

"Gryffindor!"

Granger pulled off the hat and practically skipped towards the table at the very left side of the Great Hall. 'Oh, bloody hell' Ron groaned at his side while Harry looked on with no little envy and felt his stomach do another flipflop. Ron had been so sure she'd go to Ravenclaw and if he was wrong about her, what about Harry himself? He'd been so sure on the train that he and Harry would end up in Gryffindor together, and Harry had thought so himself too, but now he wasn't quite as certain.

"Slytherin!"

The hat had barely touched Malfoy's head before it was shouting out his house and Harry decided he really really needed to use the loo. Maybe, nobody would notice until the sorting was over and he could have his own sorting quietly when no one was looking?

"Potter, Harry."

The silence was deafening. I'm living an oxy-whats-it. Harry thought hysterically as he walked forward, his steps echoing in the silence. Nervously he sat on the edge of the stool and felt the hat drop on his head, obscuring his view of most of the Great Hall.

Hmm, difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes - and a thirst to prove yourself… so where to put you?

The image of Malfoy extending his hand and Ron sitting red-faced, his eyes wide and worried came to Harry's mind.

Not Slytherin, not Slytherin, not Slytherin, not Slytherin -

Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that.

NOT SLYTHERIN, NOT SLYTHERIN, NOT SLYTHERIN.

No? I feel the need to point out that not every Slytherin is like him or Mr. Malfoy - you've already met a fine example yourself, you know.

Please, Harry found himself begging, his eyes closed without him even realizing. Please, I want friends, real friends, I want to stay with Ron and he's probably going to Gryffindor, and they say every Slytherin's gone bad, and, just, please, not Slytherin.

The hat went silent on his head, and just when Harry was about to despair, it spoke up once more,

Well then, if you feel so strongly about this. Though do remember, not all is what it seems to be. "Gryffindor!"

Harry took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He shook hands with people in a daze, listened to the twins chant 'We've got Potter, we've got Potter' and shivered when the ghost across him pat his arm. He only came back to himself when the name 'Weasley, Ronald' was called and waited with bated breath and crossed fingers until the hat shouted 'Gryffindor!' and then he was cheering with the rest of his house and clapping Ron on the back as hard as he could, all the while grinning from ear to ear.

After the oddest welcoming speech he'd ever heard, from the oddest headmaster he'd ever seen, dinner was served, and he was stuffing his face, albeit at a slower pace and with better manners than Ron. Even the way Sir Nicholas de M-something demonstrated exactly why he was called 'Nearly Headless Nick' couldn't put him off his food.

"The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy, and across from him was -

"Evans?"

"Oh, so you've already met Mr. Evans then?" Sir Nicholas asked curiously. "Then again, I suppose you were bound to, that was a silly question, do forgive me."

"Why would - actually never mind. He's a Slytherin?" Harry couldn't keep his surprise from his voice. So that's what the hat meant when it said I'd already met a Slytherin. Evans was mainly talking to the boy sitting next to him, though once in a while he'd turn to the Bloody Baron or reply to whatever Malfoy was saying.

"Well, yes, didn't you know?" Percy asked, for some reason looking slightly uneasy.

"No, I thought he'd be a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor, or well, even a Hufflepuff," Harry responded absently. There was an uncomfortable feeling in his chest as he realized he'd been thinking of the house of the person who'd helped him, in terms of evil, no-good, slimy snakes etc. based just on what Hagrid and Ron had told him. Although in his defense, Malfoy was a prat. Still, he could hardly judge an entire group of people for the acts of one.

Keep an open mind. Make your own opinions based on what you know.

"Can we talk to people from other houses during dinner?"

"It's not against the rules, of course, but - Harry?"

Harry ignored Percy's calls and Ron's startled 'Harry? Where are you going?' and made his way across the hall until he was standing behind Malfoy and across Evans.

"What do you want, Potter." Malfoy sneered at him.

"None of your business, Malfoy." Harry snapped back.

"Draco," Evans said sharply then turned towards Harry, "Is there something you need."

For a second Harry was taken aback at the indifferent, yet wary way the not-quite-a-question was asked and took a moment to reply.

"No, I just, thought I'd come and say hello?" He ended up sounding like he was asking rather than telling but Evans barely reacted. He just watched him silently, politely, indifferently, and Harry didn't understand why.

"You've said your hellos so you can leave now, Potter."

"Draco,"

Malfoy scowled and snapped, "Well, I don't see you telling him to sod off."

Evans sighed, "Draco, please." Malfoy's eyes widened a fraction and he glanced between Evans and Harry once before his mouth thinned in a white line and he settled for glaring down at his food.

Harry felt his uneasiness grow when Evans looked up from where he was watching Malfoy with an almost fond expression, only for it to become shuttered and closed when he met Harry's eyes.

"I think you should go back to your house for now." He nodded towards where Harry knew the Gryffindor table was. When he spared a glance behind him, half the Gryffindor table was craning their necks trying to watch what was going on, and the other half looked like they were ready to march to his defense, with Ron at their head. In fact, most of the school seemed to be interested in their conversation for some reason Harry couldn't fathom.

"Why are they acting like they think you're going to attack me?" Harry asked, completely bewildered.

"He doesn't know, does he."

Suddenly, one of the older Slytherin students spoke up. Harry blinked at him in surprise, noticing with growing anxiety, that he looked almost disturbingly delighted.

"Stay out of this, Yaxley."

"I've heard rumors that the Boy-Who-Lived had been raised by muggles and didn't know anything, but I didn't think they meant that literally, Potter."

Harry blinked again, quite sure he'd heard wrong, except Evans had gone pale and blank, and Malfoy was looking at Evans as if he was worried and -

"Potter?" Harry repeated numbly.

"We can talk outside -"

"What's wrong, Potter -"

"I told you I prefer Evans -"

" - haven't told your little brother you're a snake yet?"

"Yaxley, shut up before I hex you."

What was he - this couldn't - he was lying. Ron did say Slytherins were lying gits- but Evans wasn't denying anything, but he'd been nice to him, why would he, why didn't he say anything-

"Brother?"

The area around them became silent, almost like when he was sorted, but Harry barely noticed this time. For a brief moment he wondered whether there was something wrong with his hearing - there was a dull sort of roaring in his ears, and there must have been something wrong with his glasses as well because he could have sworn Evans looked guilty but he shouldn't have any reason to -.

Harry felt cold.

"Was it funny."

"Harry -"

"I asked you whether it was funny."

"Harry, I can explain, after the feast -"

"You'll explain now."

Harry could barely recognize his own voice as he snarled at the boy he'd trusted, the boy who'd lied to him, his own bloody brother whom he never even knew existed, and he'd pretended to be a complete stranger when he knew.

And to think, he'd thought Malfoy could be the exception, not the rule.

"Five points from Gryffindor for causing a disturbance in the Great Hall."

"I wasn't-!"

"Another five points for talking back to a teacher. Try to learn to respect your betters, Potter." The black-haired professor said with clear disdain.

Nearly bursting with fury, Harry spun around, ignoring Evans' - no his lying brother's - angry 'Professor!' and stalked back towards the Gryffindor table. Ron was waiting for him anxiously, and he jumped up as soon as he saw the look on his face.

"What's wrong? Is it Malfoy? Did the stupid git do something?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"What -"

"Ron. Drop it." One of the twins cut in. Most of the students clearly had no idea what had happened but a few were exchanging worried looks.

"Harry," Percy started cautiously after a brief pause. Harry didn't bother to answer. "As ridiculous as this sounds… did you not know about Evans?"

"If you mean did I not know he was my brother, then no, I did not bloody know."

If it had been any other situation Harry would have found the way Percy's eyes widened dramatically quite funny, but at the moment he couldn't quite find humor in anything. He heard one of the twins swear under his breath and one of the older students quietly but firmly told the other students to mind their own business. I really ought to thank her later a part of his mind whispered, but at the moment, Harry just stabbed his tart with a knife and watched with dark satisfaction as bits went flying everywhere.

"I was under the impression you've met before. He, uh, didn't tell you then?"

"No."

"He's a git."

Harry blinked at Ron who was taking a bite into his pie as if he couldn't hear Percy's hissed 'Ron!'. When he met Harry's eyes Ron just shrugged and, thankfully, swallowed before he carried on.

"Well, he is you know." He scowled, then his expression cleared. "Hey, you should prank him or something, I'm sure Fred and George could help."

"Prank him," Harry repeated slowly, feeling his anger melt away into confused disbelief, "because he didn't tell me he was my brother."

Ron shrugged again. "Well, you can't take points or give him detention, can you, and trying to get him expelled feels like a bit too much, and well," for the first time Ron hesitated and gave Harry an apologetic look, "you can't really tell on him to your parents."

"... That was tactless."

"Sorry mate, couldn't find a better way to put it."

Harry stared at Ron and Ron met his gaze, steadily chewing through another mouthful of pie, until Harry started shaking his head slowly a small smile tugging at his lips. Ron grinned and slung his arm around his shoulders.

"Better?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, loads." The smile slipped a bit as he reached for his pumpkin juice and chugged down what was left. "I just, I just don't understand why he didn't tell me."

"He's a Slytherin."

"Actually, he isn't that bad for a snake -"

"You could do much worse -"

"With a Ravenclaw -"

"Or even a Hufflepuff."

The twins, who'd seated them across from Harry after Nick had left, spoke in tandem, watching Harry like a pair of hawks. Harry felt a swell of irritation but squashed it down and replied a bit more curtly than he'd meant to.

"I'll be the judge of that."

The twins exchanged looks but then one of them sighed, "Just saying."

"Try not to mutilate your tart Harrykins." The other added before the two got up and moved away. Ron scowled at their backs.

Feeling much better than before, Harry surreptitiously dared a glance back towards the Slytherin table but almost immediately turned back to his half mangled tart. Evans was talking with his housemates again, almost as if he was completely unaffected by what had just happened. Like he didn't care about Harry at all. Harry's left hand clenched around his robes under the table. Figures.

"Harry, you alright?"

Harry looked up at Ron's worried face and forced a smile. It turned into something more genuine when Ron raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. He still had a smudge of dirt on his nose.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

It isn't like anything is going to really change. Harry thought to himself firmly as he finished off the rest of his disfigured, but still tasty, tart. I came to Hogwarts without family in the first place. It doesn't matter if he doesn't care. Ron reached forward and grabbed a couple of tarts just as the tables cleared. He handed one to Harry.

After all, who needs brothers when they have friends?

Author's Note: So, first fic, got all excited and impatient and probably didn't revise it half as much as I should have to be honest, but I'm pretty sure there's no major spelling or grammatical errors. English isn't my first language and what English I know, I've learned in the US so I'm not sure how 'British' I came off as. Hopefully not too weird. Some of the dialogue, especially Draco's and Hermione's come directly from the book, though I might have tweaked it a bit. Also, in future chapters, I'm going to try and keep the parts where the plot hasn't changed to a minimum, so there's that.

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Cheers.