Max scratched his head.

He looked around, a bit doubtfully. He had a slip of paper in his hand describing three people he should keep an eye out for. But there so many people milling around….how could he expect to find three?

A tall, gangly red-haired boy. Freckles. Would most likely be followed by a gang of brothers and a sister.

Small, long-haired girl. Lots of books. Parents are muggles. Will probably be showing a Prefect badge around.

Wow. A Prefect badge…that'd be handy if he knew what those looked like.

And last but not least, Harry Potter. Everyone knew Harry Potter. Black-hair, green eyes, scar. Hair from his father, eyes from his mother, and scar from a psychotic hippy freak-out.

Well, it couldn't be anything else. Sticks, lights, getting beaten by a baby. Drugs. Or something.

Of course, Max knew that wasn't true. He knew the story of The Boy just like everyone did but it was an entertaining thought.

He looked around the train platform again, but saw only people who didn't resemble those on his list.

He never did meet up with them and he worried on his lip a minute before the train was to depart.

Well. I'm bound to find them on the train at least…

The place was crowded and hot, from little first years looking quite anxious to towering seventh years looking bored and chatting with friends.

There were, for some reason, little knots of girls everywhere. They were all whispering and giggling together.

"Ah…'scuse me…." From what he remembered from the prompts and writings of the female lead, he was suppose to act superior and shove these girls out of the way. But that seemed kinda shitty, unless they were shitty, of course.

The girls all looked at him though and packed against the aisles.

He awkwardly shuffled along to an empty compartment. Or, rather, he thought it was empty. There was a girl in there with dirty-blond hair reading some kind of magazine. She had very strange glasses on.

She looked up.

"Ah…sorry. Just," he looked back and forth a bit, "…was trying to find a place to sit…do you mind if I sit in here?"

The girl nodded. "Are you here to see Harry too? He's already gone."

He looked up. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

She nodded.

"Well…," he looked at the short list, "apparently."

She pulled up her glasses in her hair. "He just left. Neville went too."

"I don't suppose Neville has red hair?"

The girl shook her head. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Yeah…three someones."

"We all are sometimes."

He paused and then went on, "I don't suppose you know anyone by these descriptions?" He held the paper out

"That's Ron Weasley," she said, matter of factly. "And that's Hermoine Granger. She's a bit off. And Harry Potter."

"Well, it says Harry Potter."

"Yes, makes him a little easier to pick out from the other two."

"I suppose so." He paused. "Are you friends with them?"

The girl nodded, a strange sort of smile on her face. "I met them last year."

He noted that she didn't exactly answer his question. Maybe she just wasn't sure. "Who are you?"

"Luna Lovegood. Who are you?"

Inwardly, he paused again. Luna Lovegood…that's the girl… He didn't say anything of it though. "Max."

"What about your last name?"

"Probably very generic. I'm something of a stand-in."

"That sounds interesting. What does that mean?"

"Y'see, usually in a fanfiction, girls are sent as the 'mysterious new student' or long lost sibling or something."

"Are you a long lost sibling? I'd like to have one."

"I don't know. I'm probably a distant relative of one of the canon characters."

Luna nodded knowingly. "So are we in a fanfiction?"

"Have you ever considered that our whole lives might just be the twisted thoughts of some two-bit writer?"

"Yes."

"Than maybe."

"That would be interesting. I don't suppose we'd know about it though, would we?"

Max shook his head. "I doubt it. Plot points and all."

Luna nodded, smiling, and then pulled her wand out from her ear and said, "Have you ever seen a Crumple-Horned Snorckack?"

He shook his head and she offered out her magazine.

It wasn't until they'd nearly reached Hogwarts that Luna suddenly paused and asked, "What's fanfiction?"

He felt awkward. People were looking at him. Instead of just doing the logical thing and being taken aside—or maybe asked for some validation as to why he was even there…he had to approach the table where all the professors and the headmaster sat. He had his little blue book out when he approached. It had been intended for the female lead but when she declared she wanted to be part vampire as well she got fired.

But, as they say, the show must go on.

So he looked at the book, which had the important professors labeled. He wished that Luna girl were still around but she had disappeared when they entered the hall.

So it was a silent hall, despite a few sniggers here and there over what the hell this guy was doing.

Max coughed and cleared his throat a little.

Dumbledore looked at him, a little puzzled. "Yes, young man."

"Ah…Oh. Right." He coughed again. "It says here—er, I'm new…I…I was taught at home by my mom—" (now, technically, he was supposed to be a transfer student from America but that didn't make any sense so he figured he should probably just tell the truth)—"and I'm not sure what to do."

Dumbledore was piercing him with those blue eyes of his. He said, "Well. I suppose we'll have you sorted then after the first years are finished."

Max nodded, shifting awkwardly. "Ah. Okay. So…uh…where should I go?"

Dumbledore smiled, not unkindly, "Just have a seat at the end of the Gryffindor table for now."

"Right…thank you…sir." Max turned away. He could hear a few sniggers again from the far side. He glanced over. Yellow. Hufflepuffs. "Hm." He'd heard they were pretty nice. Maybe they were laughing at something else.

He sighed. Yeah right, I'm a crappy stand-in.

No one said anything to him when he sat down, he did see Luna over at the next table though. She smiled and waved. Somewhere, she'd acquired a large purple headdress that her fellow Ravenclaws were giving funny looks, except for one boy who was smiling ruefully. Max waved back to her.

The action made a few heads turn at the Gryffindor table to see what the new guy was doing and a boy said to him, "You know Luna?"

Max thought quickly, but this boy didn't fit any of the descriptions in the little blue book. He nodded. "I met her on the train. I was looking for someone. Actually…," and here he dug out his list again, "….three someones."

"Oh, who are they? My name's Neville." The boy stuck out his hand and Max smiled a little and reached across the table to shake it. Ah…he's the one she mentioned.

"Max. Um. I'm suppose to find…well, Luna told me their names…Hermoine Granger…Ron Weasley and Harry Potter." He gave Neville something of a hopeful look.

Neville blinked and shifted. "Well, two of them are around…but Harry hasn't shown up yet…."

Max felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and, as the girl had hoped in her little book, some strange wizardly sense must have suddenly hit Harry Potter's partners in crime because both of them were looking at him—oh, no, a third, another girl, a red-head, was leaning over too.

He bit back a strange sound. That's spooky. He gave them a nod and a slightly strained smile and held up the note a little. "Er. Hi. I was supposed to find you earlier but I couldn't…but I was told to meet up with you and Harry Potter." He was getting slightly suspicious looks. "Okay," he muttered and looked away. "Nevermind."

"Who asked you to meet us?"

He looked back over and watched the Ron got up and strode over.

"Ah. Well. I'm not sure. Do you recognize the handwriting?" He handed the note over to Ron. "I just got it all by owl one day—so I had to hurry up and get what I needed to come. I figured it must have been important or something."

Ron looked at Hermoine. "What do you think, 'Moine?"

"Who?" someone asked.

She didn't seem to hear him but got up to study it too but the puzzled look on their faces didn't clear. "I don't recognize it either. And you don't know where Harry is?"

Ron gave an almost-glare, suspicious. "What's your name—?"

But before he could answer, Dumbledore said his name. "Max—if you would?"

He hadn't noticed all the little eleven-year-olds sitting around. Awkwardly, he got up and, scratching his shaggy brown hair, approached the stool.

"How old are you, Max?"

How did he know my name was Max? Well…I guess it's Dumbledore.

"I'm sixteen, sir."

"So, you'll be with the sixth years then. Excellent. Have a seat, please." Dumbledore's eye twinkled, as if he were a little amused.

Max sat and winced when the hat came down.

Well, well, hello—oh, you're not who's suppose to be here, are you?

Max's eyes shifted and he…thought back. No. She got fired because she wanted to be part vampire too.

Along with all those other things? Ah well. All for the better, from the sounds of it she was going to be a real nuisance.

How do you know about her, anyway?

I'm the Sorting Hat. It thought at him. I know everything.

Oh.

Now, if you'll let me have a peek. Let's see…bit awkward, lots of courage, excellent mind. Yes, a very agile mind despite how you act.

…is that a compliment or an insult?

Oh, now, now, don't be cross. Well, I think you'd be best suited for….

"Ravenclaw!" It sang out.

Hmm, I should have gone to Gryffindor.

That's what the girl wanted. Unfortunately, we work within certain realms of reality. For some reason those strange girls never seem to go to Hufflepuff.

Oh.

Then a stern looking older woman was taking off the hat and he stood up. He was greeted with a smattering of applause and some smiles. Luna got up and sat across from him, along with the boy with the rueful smile.

"I'm Terry Boot," said Terry Boot. "Luna said she knew you."

Max blinked and looked at Luna. She was smiling brightly, although it looked as if she was thinking of something else.

"We just met on the train."

"Yeah, she said you were looking for Harry Potter."

"Who isn't?" asked another boy, grinning. "Ever since they proved Harry right, everyone and their brother wants to see him."

Max made a sound of agreement and scratched his hair again. "So…I don't know very much about Hogwarts…I was taught at home. I've heard about the different houses though…"

"Flitwick's Head of our House and he's really cool, so don't worry. That Snape over there switched jobs with the new professor, Slughorn, so now Slughorn is the Potions Master and head of Slytherin House. McGonagall is head of Gryffindor House and…," Terry paused. "It's Sprout, isn't it? Who heads the Hufflepuffs?"

"Yes. It's Sprout." Another girl gave him a little wave. She and her friends giggled.

Max cocked and eyebrow and nodded back a little.

Terry leaned over the table conspiratorially. "Don't be bothered by her. That's Cho Chang. She's smart and all but you know how some girls can be."

"Giggly," said the boy next to him. "Oh. I'm Anthony Goldstein."

Max pointed at Luna. "She doesn't seem very giggly."

"She's in a class of her own."

Luna said, "Having my own class would be interesting."

Now, at this point, a few things were said here and there and then they were all rounded up.

"Careful of the tower door," said Terry, putting his hands on the table and pushing himself up. "It's not like the other Houses. They get passwords. We have to answer a question and it'll try and close on every single person."

"It makes it really annoying when there's a whole lot of us," Anthony added.

Max nodded and got up. Luna seemed to sway a bit and drifted along. Max watched her for a moment before remembering.

Ah!

He pulled out his blue book.

Now, at this point, the girl was suppose to turn to the left and make eyes with one Draco Malfoy ("Another heart, dammit. I need to copy down the details and get rid of this.") who she would apparently know on sight as they were…

Max paled.

…engaged?

We will be in love at first sight but will also fit perfectly with the Ministry's plan, the book said, and it will complicate my matters with Harry.

Max glanced over at the Gryffindor table where Harry and the other two were leaving. I wonder what he's got to do with it. Why couldn't they have given me some details. He sighed and accidentally looked over at the Slytherin table and he jumped.

Draco Malfoy was staring at him. It had to be him, naturally, because that was the first thought that came into Max's head.

The second was something along the lines of, Holy crap! Eugh!

Max blanched, Draco flashed him a seductive smile and turned away with his cronies. Some girl gave him a nasty look.

Max shuddered. Ew.

Unfortunately, as he stood about so long he almost got eaten by the Ravenclaw door. It smacked him just as he ducked inside.

There seemed to be a little confusion in the tower as, apparently there was suppose to be someone new in the girls' wing…but there wasn't…so Max was stuffed in a room by himself in what he supposed was the attic and opened up his trunk.

Er…or what he'd brought with him that he could have sworn was his trunk.

He glared over at the blue book and flipped open the cover and compared some of the writings with what was inside the trunk.

"Who the heck is Good Charlotte?" He threw the shirt to one side and then lifted out a spangly pair of pink leather pants.

He stared.

And stared some more.

He looked at the book. Apparantly he…no, no, no… she was going to be wearing that tomorrow. Why wouldn't she wear robes?

"Sorry, not me." He tried to transfigure them. Now, his mom was an accomplished witch and his dad a decent wizard and they'd taught him so he was pretty good at transfiguration…but they didn't turn into anything. Aggravated, he finally opened the window and threw them out.

He was turning away when he heard a yelp and a gurgle. He looked out and yelped himself when he saw Draco Malfoy spinning in circles back towards the ground on a broom, now covered in girl's clothing.

"What the hell was he doing up here?" Max closed the window and latched it

There was a knock on the floor. Max kicked the trunk out of the way and opened it. Terry poked his head up. "What's going on?"

"Some weirdo was flying right up the tower and I hit him with clothes."

Terry burst out laughing. "So it really is Malfoy down there! Why clothes?"

"Well, I opened my trunk…but none of this crap is mine. And I'm certainly not wearing it and for some reason it won't transfigure so I threw it out the window."

Terry pulled himself up and sat on the frame. He pointed. "But it's full."

"AH!" Max went to it, distraught. "But I threw it out the window!"

"Well, it's girls' clothes—bring it down and let the girls have it. It isn't yours. No one has come to claim it. I'll help you."

So Terry Boot helped Max pick up the heavy trunk (which seemed to have gotten heavier as they went down) and set it down in the middle of the common room.

Max scratched his head. "Er…this trunk belong to any of you girls? Maybe you guys who might be from muggle families…? I've never heard of Slipknot…."

He got some blank stares. Those from muggle-land shrugged.

"Okay, er, well, this stuff isn't mine—and it's girls' stuff….so you girls can have it." He nudged it forward with his foot.

It took a moment before the girls of Ravenclaw approached the trunk. Well, some did. Others looked over their new books, some looked haughty, others reluctant. The prefects couldn't find much wrong with this so they had to let it go. Luna somehow managed to sneak in and took out a black case.

He would learn later that she had tied several flashy silver discs together called CDs and hung them like ribbons about her four-poster bed.

"Where are your things?" Luna asked, coming to stand next to him and Terry while the trunk was being perused.

Max shrugged. "Dunno. I packed my stuff…and then I threw that stuff out the window…and then it was back in the trunk again."

"I'll bet it's cursed," muttered a girl, sitting at a small table. "It's refilling with the belongings of some poor dead girl."

"Oh, Henry, don't tell ghost stories, you'll sound like a Gryffindor," Anthony told her, rolling his eyes.

"Henry?" Max looked at her.

"Henrietta!" She snapped, "But," and she suddenly calmed, eyeing him and smiled demurely, "I like to be called Henry."

"Right." Max looked away awkwardly.

The trunk refilled itself three more times before it finally gave up and quit. The girls were chatting about the objects and clothes and the boys looked over them curiously, one commenting on the possibilities for the pink leather on one of the girls. But Max was now left with an empty trunk.

"You have nothing for tomorrow?" Anthony asked.

"Well…no." He didn't really relish the idea of having nothing on under his robe either.

"We'll go down to Hogsmeade," Terry said. "We can tell Flitwick about it and everyone here can prove it."

"Yeah, and we can make a stop at the Three Broomsticks!" Anthony grinned, enthusiastic.

Max nodded and glanced over. Luna had a strange look on her face. She was looking at the wall, not quite glazed or dreamy, as if she were listening but not.

Down on the ground, shoving aside a pair of black and red striped socks, Draco looked up at the high tower.