Disclamer: I do not own anything but imagination and the freedom to use it.
Author's notes: This is the first chapter revised. Be nice, and don't take any of the out-side characters at face value.
Chapter 1: "The Beginning is Always, if Nothing Else, New."
The view Harry was facing was beautiful and yet terrifying. It was the view of the train that would take him back home, to Hogwarts, that he found beautiful. The terrifying part were the people. Between him and the train was a crowd of people and he didn't know if he'd be able to go through it without going into a fit. Squaring his jaw, he took a step towards the desirable direction and then another, slowly turning it into steady walking.
People were rushing around him, students trying to get on the train and their parents helping them. Harry was glad they were careful enough not to bump into him but his luck did not last long. A shoulder connected with his and he jumped backwards, crashing into a different person which jerked him forward again into his trolley.
Harry froze in place, waiting for his heart to calm down, murmuring to himself that it was all an accident. Hedwig, obviously worried, tried to nip his hand to calm him down, but it was further than she could reach through the bars. The idea, never the less, reached her master and slowly he calmed down, before once again moving towards the machine.
Away from the crowd in the compartment at the end of the train, where he and his friends usually sat, Harry could breathe again. It disturbed him a bit that he was not as collected when in the crowd as he wished. He had a reason for that, but he did not consider it a good enough reason for him, a person that had faced Voldemort several times and come out alive, to be so spooked by being touched unexpectedly.
The train hadn't started moving yet, but the door to his compartment was beginning to open. Harry becamecurious. Ron and Hermione were in the prefects' compartment and wouldn't be here for a while. After a moment's thought, he decided it had to beNeville or Ginny. By then the door was open and he was proven wrong. It wasn't Neville or Ginny. In fact, Harry was pretty sure he would have remembered if he had ever seen the person standing casually in the doorway.
He looked much taller than Harry, his posture straight and unmoving. What made Harry sure he would have remembered him was the long, dark green, almost black hair that was obviously tightly pulled back, and the golden eyes piercing his.
"Mind if I sit here?" asked the person, and before Harry had the chance to answer, he was walking in and pulling his trunk behind him. Harry's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to tell him off for being very rude, when the person turned to face him and extended his hand.
"Dimitree Zahariev". he said and Harry noticed the strong accent accompanying the unusual name. Harry didn't answer or reach over to take his hand, but stared at him, his eyes still narrowed. Dimitree's mouth curled up and he turned around towards his trunk. Harry was a bit amazed at the ease with which he picked it up and set his trunk above their heads. Dimitree turned and Harry was happy to note that his amazement was well hidden.
Golden bore into green yet again and Harry fidgeted. Dimitree sprawled on the seat across from him and Harry knew that there was something about this person that he really did not understand or like.
"So, aren't you going to tell me?" asked the accented voice and Harry froze, raking his brain for what exactly he was talking about. "Your name." Clarified the boy and the British wizard couldn't help but sneer.
"No!" He didn't like him. He didn't know why, but the arrogance that came off of him made Harry want to gag. Actually, he considered, he knew exactly why: it was the same arrogance that Malfoy dripped everywhere he went.
Dimitree's mouth fully curled into a smile and Harry wanted to growl. At the first movement the train made, Harry shifted his attention to the window on his right. The decision to ignore the arrogant ponce made him happy and he gave his full attention to the window.
It wasn't long before Harry got bored looking outside and he turned to Hedwig instead. She nipped his finger affectionately and returned to looking outside. Harry felt flustered. There wasn't much one could do to ignore a person in the same compartment as them if one didn't want to look at them. Finally, Harry glanced offhandedly towards the other boy and felt a bit disappointed. Dimitree was reading a book, obviously not bothered at all that Harry was ignoring him. Curiosity took over and he tried reading the title of the boo,k but it did not make much sense to him. He recognized some of the letters but was sure that several did not exist in any form of English. Harry shook his head, hoping that it might somehow make the letters make a bit more sense, but alas they did not.
"It's Bulgarian," said Dimitree as a way of explanation. "It says 'Curses of the Century'. It's rather boring, actually." One of Harry's eyebrows went up.
"Then why are you reading it?" he asked, trying his best to sound like he did not care for the answer, but failing horribly.
"Well," started Dimitree while putting his book to the side, "I was bored, you were ignoring my existence, and I thought that it might catch your attention." The smirk on the end of that sentence was unmistakable. Harry had fallen for it. Instead of feeling mad, however, he felt amused. People wanted his attention after they knew his name, not before that.
Before Harry could say anything, there was a racket outside their door and it slamming back, it revealed none other than Malfoy. His eyes swept over them and seemed to narrow when they spotted Dimitree. Harry decided to deal with him before he started insulting the foreign boy.
"Have you finished pestering the first years already, Malfoy?" The silver eyes turned on him. "Or did you decide to skip the snack and just move onto the entree?" Malfoy sneered.
"I am surprised you even know what the word entree means." The arrogance of a rich little boy dripped off of every syllable like thick goo. 'About as disgusting.' Went through Harry's head "As a matter of fact, I am here to pick up my cousin." his gaze shifted back on Dimitree and Harry's eyes widened. "Well?" came Malfoy's voice again and Harry turned to stare at the boy sitting across from him, his eyes showing his betrayal.
"I think I'll pass, thank you." Said Dimitree. "The company and conversation here are much more interesting and intelligent than anything I could hope to hear from you or your cronies." Harry gasped. This was a turn of events he had not expected. At that moment, said cronies filed in behind Malfoy, with confusion across their faces. They were obviously having trouble deciphering what was being said. Malfoy, however, did not have that problem. He had become as red as, Harry thought, only Ron ever did. His eyes were murderous.
"I am sorry to disappoint you, but I refuse to talk about rabid weasels and filthy mudbloods!" said Malfoy and with that was gone, taking his thugs with him. Dimitree, however, seemed a bit confused.
"What was he talking about?"he asked and Harry sighed.
"That would be us." Came a soft voice from the doorway and Harry saw Hermione, her eyes resigned, and Ron, who looked ready to kill. Glancing back at Dimitree, he realized that the confusion was still there.
"These are my friends Ron Weasely and Hermione Granger." The confusion seemed to disappear a bit, but there was still some left. Hermione beat Harry to the explanation.
"I am a muggleborn." In a moment the confusion was replaced by anger and he stood up, hurrying out and in the direction Malfoy had disappeared in. Right before he disappeared, however, the trio heard a murmur containing the words "Malfoy" and "unforgivables". Ron stared at the place were Dimitree had just been sitting, his face no longer red, and Hermione had a small smile on her face. Once over his shock, Ron opened his mouth to ask about the identity of the fury that had just gone past them, when Harry interrupted.
"His name is Dimitree Zahariev." He said the last name slowly, hoping that he had said it right. At the name, Hermione brightened.
"He is from Bulgaria." She explained to the questioning gazes. "The Zahariev are one of the most powerful families in Europe. I wonder what he is doing here though." She sat where Dimitree had been sitting moments earlier. Picking up his book, she looked at the title. After a moment she nodded and set it beside her, seeming to the two boys, as if she knew exactly what it was.
One look at Ron told Harry that he should probably stay out of the oncoming conversation. Ron's face was a shade of red that could only be described as anger. The hatred that the red headed boy had for the Bulgarian visitor in their fourth year had never really left him. Harry backed up in his seat. Hermione, however, seemed to catch onto Ron's emotional condition and wasn't particularly impressed.
"Don't be silly, Ronald, I did a research on Bulgaria when Victor was here two years ago." It seemed like that made some of the red anger disappear, but Harry was still tense, waiting for the inescapable 'KABOOM'. That however never happened. Instead, Ron sat beside Hermione keeping his mouth shut. Harry felt like he might get a heart attack. A miracle had happened and he was right there, able to witness it.