Prologue
Platform 9 3/4 is bustling and loquacious. On one side of Harry an old wizard is fussing with a boys uniform, and ahead the red-headed twins have already disappeared into the throng. A bright red steam engine whistles brightly. Harry stands on the crossbar of his trolly to read the words Hogwarts Express written in flowing script on the engine. The train stretches back into a dark tunnel where it disappears from sight. Harry pushes his trolly up to one of the doors, wondering how he is supposed to get his trunk onto the train by himself. He watches a girl hug her mother goodbye as her father waves his wand and the boy's trunk simply floats inside the train.
Harry tentatively waves his wand at his trunk, but only succeeds in shooting sparks at Hedwig, who screeches loudly.
"Sorry, girl." He says sheepishly, ducking his head when people shoot glances at him.
He covertly watches another family load their trunks using magic and get onto the train. Harry is about to look for the red-headed woman who had helped him earlier when a blond family walks to the door, two trunks floating sedately ahead of them.
"Excuse me," Harry blurts, before he can over-think it, "but I was wondering how to make my trunk float onto the train like that."
He flushes as the tall man looks down at him, irritated. Then the man's eyes dart to his forehead and the expression melts from his face, replaced with a polite smile. Harry smooths his fringe down over his scar, but it's already too late.
The man offers his hand to Harry, "Hello, I'm Lucius Malfoy. This is my wife Narcissa and our son Draco." Mr. Malfoy clasps a hand tightly on his son's shoulder. The boy scrutinizes Harry silently, lip turned up slightly.
"It's nice you meet you." Mrs. Malfoy says, smiling frostily.
"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry says uncomfortably, squirming under the family's stare.
"Are you a first year?" Mr. Malfoy asks, though Harry is sure he has already figured out who he is. He nods, choosing the ignore the nagging feeling of something unpleasant crawling under his skin. "Draco is beginning his first year as well. Perhaps you'll be rooming together." His voice expresses his amusement at the idea. "I'm afraid that you will have to learn how to levitate trunks at Hogwarts. I would be happy to levitate it for you in the meantime, however."
Harry sighs in relief, "That would be great." Mr. Malfoy twists his wand lavishly and Harry's trunk slides smoothly through the doorway.
"Thank you." Harry says, but Mr. Malfoy waves away the acknowledgement.
"It was no trouble. Why don't you help Harry carry his owl, Draco?" The other boy casts an odd look at his father but steps forward and grabs the large cage. Hedwig ruffles her wings angrily at the harsh movement.
"We will see you next summer Draco." Mr. Malfoy says, inclining his head faintly toward his son. Draco nods back.
"Write every week." Mrs. Malfoy smiles again, though this time it seems sincere. She and Draco hug briefly and then the Malfoys depart, robes flowing elegantly behind them.
Harry and Draco stare at each other.
"Draco Malfoy." He offers a hand, grudgingly.
"Harry Potter." Harry returns, shaking Draco's hand. The other boy's eyes widen in dawning understanding.
"Er, shall we?" Harry asks, hoping to avoid the awkward silence that has briefly descended on them. Draco nods, and they clamber onto the Hogwarts Express.
"I have an owl too, you know." Draco informs him, holding Hedwig's cage out to the side awkwardly to keep it away from his school robes. "He's flying to Hogwarts, so that nobody has to carry around his cage."
"Isn't it far away?" Harry asks, feeling slightly awkward at Draco's obvious distaste. "I can carry her." he adds.
Draco glances at him, "It's no trouble."
Harry rolls his eyes at the blatant lie and takes the cage as they reach an empty compartment. Draco looks torn between glaring and thanking him, and settles for rolling his eyes and opening the door. Harry follows Draco into the compartment and drops onto the bench across from him after stowing Hedwig and his trunk in the overhead compartment.
There is a delicate silence. Harry can feel Draco's eyes on him. They hover in the region of his forehead rather obviously.
"Do you remember it, Potter?" He asks suddenly, looking as though he wants to hit himself for asking. The corners of his mouth turn downwards.
"Remember what?" Harry asks, obstinate.
Draco shakes his head, eyes narrowed minutely, "Never mind," and they sit in silence again. Harry briefly regrets being contrary.
"Have you heard of Quidditch?" He says instead. It occurs to him that if this boy grew up in the Wizarding World - and judging by his parents and their conversation so far he did - Harry's question is probably a little naive. The incredulous expression Draco now sports confirms his suspicions. "Just- I don't know much about it." He tries to save himself.
"It's only the best game in the world!" Draco exclaims, sitting up even straighter than he already has been. Harry wonders if he's using magic. "I'm a seeker. It's a pity they don't let first years bring their brooms."
He sees Harry's uncomprehending face, and he is off explaining the positions, the balls, the house teams, the latest news in professional Quidditch. Harry is pretty sure he will have forgotten half of it by the time they arrive at Hogwarts. The change in Draco is quite drastic when he forgets to keep that stick up his arse, and Harry finds himself relaxing as the train trundles by vast farmland. The Chudley Cannons are a sadly under appreciated team, Draco explains. They just need new robes ("Orange! I don't know what they were thinking!"), more funding and a better seeker. Harry suspects that what Draco really thinks that they need him as seeker.
"But that's just my opinion," He says, voice flushed with animation, "Honestly, though, the man fell off his broom trying to catch a bumble-bee in the last match against the Tornados. If that's not indicating that something's wrong, I don't know what is. Too many Fizzing Whizbees if you ask me."
Harry has just opened his mouth to ask what Fizzing Whizbees are (he feels more comfortable revealing his lacking knowledge now that Draco has proven so enthusiastic) when the door to their compartment slides open. A woman with oddly styled hair and too-tight yellow robes knocks cheerily on the wall, patting the heavily laden trolly in front of her.
"Got summat' for candy?" She asks them loudly around the licorice clamped between her lips. Draco gets a superior look on his face again as he scrutinizes her. Harry notices him smooth his robes and hastily return the leg he had propped on the seat to the floor. He pulls a blue velvet pouch from a pocket Harry hadn't seen. It clinks garishly as he pulls out a handful of gold coins. Galleons, Harry remembers.
"What can I get for three?" Draco asks, voice sneering. Harry prefers it when he talks about Quidditch.
The trolly lady raises burnt looking eyebrows, "Mor'n I got here. You want a lot 'o candy you can get ten o' everything fer ten sickles."
"If I can have another Chocolate Frog instead of a pasty." Draco agrees, glancing over his shoulder, "Want something Harry?"
"Thanks. I'm alright." Harry says, eyeing the amount of sweets Draco is gathering. They are different from muggle sweets. Rather than the Mars Bars he was expecting, Harry sees labels like Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and Drooble's Best Blowing Gum.
"Help yourself." The other boy offers, already opening one of the Chocolate Frogs. Seeing Harry pick up the jelly beans (or at least that's what they look like to Harry), he cautions, "Those can be dangerous. Some are really good, but others... I had a vomit flavoured one when I was little and since then mother's had the house elves sort them first."
"House elves?" Harry asks, risking a pale green one that turns out rather tasty- though Harry isn't sure what flavour it is supposed to be. And they are off on another lesson in Wizarding culture, Draco once again relaxing into himself.
"How do they get around Hogwarts, though? I thought you said people couldn't do that - y'know, teleporting-"
"Apparating."
"Yeah, apparating. I thought you said that people can't do that at Hogwarts."
Draco nods, unconsciously curling his leg under him as it was before the trolly lady interrupted. "People can't, no, but house elves aren't people. They have a different kind of magic. I'm not sure - it's not that important, most wizards don't learn about it. Father says that the Slytherins used to stay up all night in the common on weekends and never see the elves. 'Out of sight, out of mind', he says."
"Slytherin." Harry says, remembering his conversation with Hagrid, "That's one of the school houses, right?"
"Yes. There's Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. No one really knows what house they'll be in 'till they get there, but I'm going to be in Slytherin. All my family's has been for generations. Imagine being in Hufflepuff; I think I'd leave." Draco grins.
"What's the difference?"
Draco looks like he doesn't know whether to laugh or pity him, "Gyffindors are supposed to be brave and daring - bravado and stupidity, I call it. Ravenclaws are said to be witty, but the sort of people who sleep in the library and think they know everything. Hufflepuffs are hardworking and just, but the Hufflepuffs I know are just anal about rules. Slytherins are cunning, ambitious."
Harry ignores the bias, humming under his breath. He peers out the fogged up window. It is getting dark outside. He can just make out mountains and lush forest under the dark purple sky.
"You should get your robes on." Draco advises, also leaning forward to glance out, "I think the train is slowing down."
Harry takes off his jacket and pulls on his long, black robes. He notices that Draco's robes look much more expensive. Harry is impressed with Draco's timing when a voice echoes through their compartment: 'We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.'
Harry's stomach lurches with nerves that he has held off throughout the long ride with Draco. The other boy looks slightly paler than he already is, but otherwise Harry doesn't notice much of a difference. Draco stands to gather what is left of the sweets. Harry helps him put them in his trunk. Now that the time to get off the train has arrived both boys are quiet. Harry wonders what time it is. Students are crowding the corridor in the rush to get off.
The train slows right down and finally stops. Harry and Draco join the throng pushing out onto a tiny, dark platform. It seems entirely deserted except for the students who have just gotten off and Harry wonders how often the train runs. He shivers in the frigid night air.
"Wish I knew a warming spell." Draco comments.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Harry turns to look up at Hagrid's beaming face, illuminated in the flicker of the lantern clutched in his fist and swinging above the sea of heads. "All right there, Harry?"
"Who is that?" Draco asks as Hagrid tells them to follow him down a steep, narrow path.
"That's Hagrid." Harry says, feeling slightly smug at knowing something the blond boy doesn't. "He's keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts."
"Oh, my father's told me about him. He's sort of a servant though, isn't he?"
"I think he's brilliant." Harry says defensively, quelling the urge to snap. "He took me to Diagon Alley to buy my school supplies and even bought me Hedwig for my birthday. He told me that I'm a wizard." Draco makes a neutral sound in his throat, but Harry suspects this is more for the sake of their budding friendship than any real change in opinion.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid calls over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
There is a loud "Oooooh!"
The narrow path has opened suddenly on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, is a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
"I've been here before with father." Draco says, louder than necessary for Harry to hear him. "He's a school governor."
"What does that mean? I mean, what does he do?" Harry asks. "Is that like... PAC meetings?"
"Sorry?" Draco gives him a look clearly communicating him confusion. "Is that another muggle thing?"
"I guess." Harry shrugs.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid calls, saving Harry from further explanation. He points to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Draco choose the boat closest to them, Harry taking a place near the bow and Draco sitting rather gingerly on the middle bench.
"Crabbe, Goyle!" Draco shouts suddenly, and Harry jumps, wondering if this is some odd wizarding custom for traveling on water. Then Draco says, "This is Crabbe and Goyle, sons of my father's associates. We played often when we were younger." and Harry holds on as the two large boys clamber into their small boat, causing it to teeter perilously. Draco's face turns an odd pea green colour.
"Hello." He says, unsure as to who is who as Draco's hands had been too busy clutching his seat to point them out.
The taller one grunts. The shorter, blonder one (Harry is reminded uncomfortably of Dudley) mutters a quiet, "Hi."
"Everyone in?" shouts Hagrid, who has a boat to himself, "Right then - FORWARD!"
And the fleet of little boats move off all at once, gliding across the lake which is as smooth as glass.
"Hagrid used magic like this." Harry comments, "When he took me from the Dursleys." Draco doesn't seem inclined to answer until they are on solid ground, so Harry leans forward to watch the dark, sparkling water as they drift ahead. Everyone is silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towers over them as they sail nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stands.
"Heads down!" yells Hagrid as the first boats reach the cliff; they all bend their heads and the little boats carry them through a curtain of ivy hiding a wide opening in the cliff face. They are carried along a dark tunnel, which seems to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they each a kind of underground harbour, where they climb out on to rocks and pebbles.
"Finally." Draco mumbles, letting out a quiet burst of air as though he has been holding his breath. Harry laughs.
"Trevor!" A round-faced boy rushes toward Hagrid, almost falling in his haste. Hagrid passes something small and moving to him and then they clamber up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last on to smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.
They walk up a flight of stone steps and crowd around the huge oak front door.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"
Hagrid raises a gigantic fist and knocks three times on the castle door.
A/N: 2,606 words. Some small sections of this chapter are directly transcribed from the book. As the story progresses this will happen very rarely, if at all, because it will soon begin to deviate greatly from canon. Also, I don't know if PACs exist in England under that name (or at all), but in Canada this is the Parent Advisory Council, a group of parents who work with the school for the student's interests. They often organize fundraisers, etc. I find the idea of Lucius Malfoy being a part of this particularly amusing... :D
Oh, AND: I don't have a beta, so if you spot errors (typos, grammatical, plot, spelling, anything) please leave a review so that I can correct it! All reviews are welcomed and encouraged, of course.