I first met Harry Potter on the train to Hogwarts our first year. I had survived the brick wall that transported me to Platform 9¾ and said goodbye to my parents. Finding a seat was a challenge. All of a sudden I was met with older kids I couldn't sit with, peers that didn't want to sit next to me, and kids I didn't want to sit with. Exasperated, I tugged open the nearest compartment door and sat down, not caring who was in the compartment with me. Boy was I in for a surprise.
I didn't make eye contact with either of the boys for a while; I just pretended to be interested in the fabric of my seat. They were having a lively discussion about Muggles, and I pretended not to hear them. It wasn't until the train actually started moving that I realized maybe I as well ought to make friends.
"'Ello," I said braver than I felt.
"Hi," the darker-haired one replied.
"It speaks!" exclaimed the Ginger.
"What're your names?" I tried to be polite.
They told me their names; I goggled over Harry. The rest of the train ride went as the three of us became friends. I guess the only sad part of the day was when I was sorted into Ravenclaw and them into Gryffindor. I gave them a melancholic look and walked to my corresponding table.
Despite this, we've been friends ever since.