DISCLAIMER: We all know who owns these characters, the lovely JK Rowling.

The sight of the large scarlet express was bittersweet. It poured a longing into his heart, but at the same time part of him was missing the ocean air.

This was his decision though, and there was no turning back. Not that he would. No, he was definitely looking forward to seeing where his parents had met and fallen in love. That was his main motivator for even going, the other reason had entirely to do with coming into the war.

He'd trained long enough, he knew more about the Dark Arts than any of the kids surrounding him did. He was ready.

At eleven, Nic had sat him down and told him why his parents had lost their lives, and why he had almost lost his. It had sickened him to learn that the man was still out there, that he hadn't been caught.

Nic and Perenelle had then spent the night explaining the benefits of each schooling option he had. Hogwarts, where his parents had met and gone to school, it was under the eyes of Dumbledore, a close family friend. It was a prime school, if he chose to attend. Another option was Beauxbatons, down in France. He immediately vetoed this, as he didn't know a lick of French. Then they brought up Durmstrang, albeit a bit hesitantly. They told him how he would actually be taught about the Dark Arts at this school, but they also shared with him that children of supporters to the man who killed his parents would possibly be attending. As he found out more about this school, as much as they could tell him, he was set on it.

Over the years though he had thought more and more of Hogwarts, and when Dumbledore had come over during the summer, Harry had sat down with him and talked about switching schools. Dumbledore had immediately asked why he was having such a change of heart, but when Harry had explained things, Dumbledore gave him the most sympathetic smile, and told him that his spot was always open.

Within the next week, Harry had written and received acceptance for the transfer, along with well wishes from his teachers, and from his headmaster. When Dumbledore came by next, Harry had immediately taken him aside, and with the letter of transfer in hand, Harry became a Hogwarts student.

The rest of the summer was spent owling his friends, reading the required textbooks for the year, as well as a few recreational tomes, and assuring Nic and Perenelle that this was what he wanted.

As he thought about all of that, he searched for his own compartment, and when he finally found one, he took it for himself, shutting and spelling the door from anyone wishing to stay longer than two minutes.

Once he had his trunk situated, he sat down and took out a book he had yet to finish. It was all about the Goblin Rebellions, how they started, and what stopped them. He was so immersed in his book, he was surprised when he heard someone cough to get his attention.

He looked up to see a girl with the brownest eyes he had ever seen. "Just who might you be?" the girl asked, and he could tell by her tone she was unsure what to think of him.

"I'm a new student, a transfer, and yourself?" Harry asked. He finally noticed the Head Girl badge as she answered.

"I'm Hermione Granger, Head Girl," she paused and he would swear she was going to question him about his book, until she shook her head. "If you need anything, I'll be up in the front cabin."

Harry nodded an acknowledgment, going back to his book before she had even left the door.

He had completely missed the snack trolley, and only realized he should change into his robes once he noticed that it had gotten dark outside. After that he had opted to put his book away, even though he was almost finished with it.

When the train finally stopped, Harry decided that he would go up with returning students, and meet with whoever Dumbledore had asked to look out for him.

Catching up with some of the older looking students, he joined a carriage with a red head, two boys with dark hair, and a boy who he recognized as Neville Longbottom.

As soon as he sat down, the red head asked who he was.

"Quite rude of you, I must say," Harry quipped, leaning forward to look at the thestrals pulling the carriage.

"Whatever," Ron muttered, rolling his eyes. "Are you new here?"

Harry, leaning back again, nodded. "If I wasn't, you'd have known who I am," he laughed.

"Just tell us who you are!" one of the boys interjected, getting irritated.

"As soon as you tell me who you are," Harry countered, smiling at Neville who was just looking awkwardly at the floor.

Ron rolled his eyes, but complied. "I'm Ron, this is Seamus, Dean, and Neville. And you are?"

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville. My name is Harry," he said, biting back the smirk when they rolled their eyes.

"So, Harry, why are you just coming to Hogwarts now? What year are you in?" Dean asked, eyeing his forehead in wonder.

"I'm a 7th year, what about you four?" He asked, knowing full well they could see he was avoiding the other question.

"7th years as well," Seamus answered. "You know where you'll be sorted?"

"I was under the impression no one really knew what house they'd be put into," Harry said, turning his head to look at Neville for a moment. Before he could say anything though, Ron spoke up again.

"So where'd you go to school before now? Must not have been too good if you decided to come here."

Taking a deep breath, Harry looked at each of them individually. It was one thing that they had all been told upon their first year at Durmstrang: People are going to judge you as soon as you say you've attended here. He was ready though. He knew himself. "Durmstrang, I went to Durmstrang."

As expected, everyone tensed up, and Harry bit back the small frown that wanted to appear on his face.

It came as a surprise when Neville spoke up after the minute of awkward silence and staring. "Do you know Viktor then, Viktor Krum?"

Taking a moment to actually look at his school mate, Harry wondered. He had learned about his parents as a child, wanting to know more about his parents and their friends, and he could just vaguely see what he knew of them in their son. Finally, he answered, "Yeah, he's a friend."

Ron, Seamus, and Dean all spoke up with questions for him, and Neville once more let himself fade into the background. Harry watched him though, as he ignored the continuous flow of questions. Just as he was about to say anything though, the carriage stopped.

Stepping out of carriage, Harry looked up, and up at his new school, and that feeling of longing eased up. He was here, and in a few short steps, he'd be standing on the same grounds his parents once had.

When he finally reached the huge entrance way, he was intermediately spotted by one of the professors. "Harry!" the short man shouted, "Follow me please."

Harry nodded and quietly followed him into a small chamber off of what he was secretly hoping was the Great Hall. He had heard a lot about it from students that had come here during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and he was excited to see it himself, almost as much as he was to see the rest of the school.

"It's nice to meet you Harry, I'm Professor Flitwick, I teach Charms. I hear your quite good at them, in fact," Flitwick said, and before Harry could answer, he was continuing on. "Now, as soon as the first years are sorted, the Headmaster will say a few words of introduction, and you can come out for your own sorting, alright? Good, now I must be off."

Harry wanted to say thanks, to ask if he knew what Dumbledore had planned to say, but the small professor was out of the room before he could even lick his lips.

From the small room, he could hear just about everything. He could make out a few conversations about people being excited for this year, another couple were talking about how they hoped this years Defense teacher was actually good, and a few other people talking about what they did during the summer. He could even tell when the first years entered, because aside from the rhythm of their march, conversations had lessened.

This also meant he could hear the conversations still going on all the better. The Ron bloke was talking to someone, he wasn't sure who, about him. Harry rolled his eyes in a few circles as he heard Ron describe him as a Dark Wizard.

Before that conversation could go further though, a song started from out of the blue. Harry raised his eyebrows, before he laughed. A sorting hat? He shook his head. At Durmstrang, there hadn't been a sorting. He had just been told where he'd be sleeping, and that he'd be sleeping there for the next two years, give or take.

As soon as the last name was called, Harry tensed up. Dumbledore was going to introduce him, and he would very much be in the spot light. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed himself. He trusted the old man. Durmstrang was his to tell.

"Now, as I'm sure few of you know, Hogwarts has accepted a transfer student. While this is indeed unusual, I hope you all will except him as one of our own. Minerva?"

With a short breath of silence, Harry opened the door, just as his name was called. The silence that greeted him as he walked up to the stool was almost as overwhelming as putting the hat on, but it was nothing compared to the stillness of what came once the hat read out where he was sorted.