Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters and places belong to J.K. Rowling.

If you didn't read the warning in the first chapter, you might want to do so. There will be no further reminders.

EiR Infusion: Remortal at Hogwarts

Year 1: Eric Crome and the Sorcerer's Stone

Written by Upgrade

Chapter 2: Diagonal Shopping and Fractional Trains

After another dose of Floo Powder in one of Hogwarts' many fireplaces, Eric and Hagrid entered Diagon Alley. "So, yeh'll be needin' ter sell those treasures of yers, right?" Hagrid asked.

"No, I've got some bars of platinum I can trade, if you know a place to do so. Should be more than enough to fund my school supplies," Eric replied. I can always pawn off the usual junk later. I want Dumbledore to know that I don't need taken care of, and this might help convince him.

"Plat'num?!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Better take it ter Gringotts, then."

"Gringotts?" Eric repeated questioningly.

"Wizard's bank. Only one we've got. Run by goblins," Hagrid explained.

"I see," Eric nodded slightly.

Hagrid led the way through Diagon Alley, passing shops of flying broomsticks, cauldrons, wands, books, robes, and a multitude of other things. Eric could see a lofty white building ahead, and correctly assumed this to be their destination. Soon, they were standing in front of Gringotts' shimmering bronze doors. Beside the doors was a small, dark-skinned being with elongated fingers and feet, wearing a scarlet and gold uniform. The goblin, for that was what he was, bowed as they passed. After the bronze doors was a set of silver ones. Eric noted the warning poem written on them.

"Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it. All the vaults 'er hundreds of miles deep under the Underground. Enchantments. Dragons guard some of 'em. Only place might be safer to keep anything safe would be Hogwarts," Hagrid muttered to his young companion.

Two more goblins guarded the silver doors, and again, they bowed as the boy and giant passed through. Beyond the doors was a gigantic marble hall. Countless doors lined the walls. Over a hundred more goblins sat behind an extensive counter, working with money or other accountancy tasks.

Hagrid walked up to a goblin who was not currently busy. "Morning. We've come to make an exchange. In plat'num."

Eric pulled six bars of platinum from his pockets, although they hadn't been there just a moment before. Each bar was about the size of a roll of quarters, only rectangular. He set them on the counter. The goblin's eyes widened for a moment. He picked one up and examined it closely, even using a little magnifying scope. He weighed them on the scale next to him, finding them to weigh about 600 grams each (approximately 1 lb 5 oz). Eric estimated their worth as about $170,000 all together, or £83386.47.

About half an hour later, Eric had half the money from his platinum in an account at the bank, while he carried the rest himself, stored away in his soulspace. "So, Hagrid, how exactly does wizard currency work? Galleons to Sickles to Knuts, I mean."

"One gold Galleon is seventeen silver Sickles, and there're twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle. Simple enough, right?" Hagrid said.

Seems more convoluted to me, Eric thought. Seventeen and twenty-nine? What for?!

"Ugh, glad I hadn't eaten yet. That cart ride down to yer new vault would've made me lose it fer sure," Hagrid commented.

"Really? I thought it was fun. Like riding a roller coaster on overdrive," Eric stated. "But speaking of food, I'm hungry. Any restaurants around here? I'm buying."

"Well, there's the Leaky Cauldron. More of a bar than a rest'raunt, but the food is good. Yeh wouldn't mind if I got a pick-me-up there, would yeh?" Hagrid checked.

"Sounds fine to me," Eric gestured for Hagrid to guide the way.

A jaunt down to the end of Diagon Alley brought them to a brick wall. "Three up, two across. Right. Stand back, Eric," Hagrid tapped three times on the wall with his umbrella. The brick he tapped vibrated before turning into a hole that progressively got wider until there was an archway in the wall. On the other side was a tiny walled courtyard with a couple of trash cans and weeds, and a door. They walked through the door into a small, darkly lit pub. Conversations stopped as most everyone greeted Hagrid warmly.

"The usual, Hagrid?" queried the bartender, reaching for a glass.

"Sure, Tom. And a late lunch for me an' Eric here," Hagrid told him.

After eating, Hagrid took Eric back into Diagon Alley. Their next stop was Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. Eric didn't want to wear the robes, much preferring a t-shirt and pants, but he had to admit, they were comfortable. Following that, they bought Eric's school books at Flourish and Blotts, a shop full of books in sizes from immense to miniscule. Eric scanned the pages of his school books like they were flip books. They picked up his telescope, brass scales, dragon hide protective gloves, and black winter cloak at various shops. Eric wore the cloak, using the clasp he had found back in the United States. They also bought a large trunk, to hold all of the supplies.

"Okay, that's everything but my wand," Eric noted as they left the Apothecary, having just picked up his basic potions supplies.

"Yeh don't be wantin' an owl or somethin'?" Hagrid inquired.

"No, thanks," Eric confirmed.

"Well, then Ollivanders it is. Best place for wands, Ollivanders," the giant declared, leading the way.

Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. That was what the peeling golden letters above the door read. The window was nearly empty, except for one wand on a dull purple pillow. The building looked to be in need of repairs. As they stepped inside, the tinkling of bells went off in the back of the tiny. Hagrid sat in the only chair. Eric could feel the magic in the air, untapped. It gave the room an eerie feel. Thousands of boxes were piled nearly to the ceiling throughout the room.

Eric felt a presence behind him. "Good afternoon," spoke a quiet voice from the presence. Hagrid jerked in surprise, causing the chair to groan at him. The big man decided it was better to get out of the seat before it broke.

The boy turned to see an old man standing there, his eyes glowing with silver light in the dark room. "Good afternoon," Eric greeted back.

"And what would your name be?" Ollivander questioned.

"Eric Crome," the boy stated.

"Ah. An American," Ollivander said, as if that explained something. He looked up and saw the giant in the room. "Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid!" Ollivander and Hagrid struck up a conversation about the latter's wand.

So Hagrid's broken wand is in his umbrella, Eric thought as he listened to the exchange.

"So, Mr. Crome, which is your wand arm?" Ollivander pulled out a measuring tape. Eric held out his right arm. He measured Eric's arm in most every way possible, as well as the circumference of his skull. Ollivander said the next bit as if repeating a speech, telling Eric of the different core types used in wands, and of how one wizard's wand would never be as effective for another."

As the wand maker began shuffling through boxes, the measuring tape continued to move on its own, currently measuring the space between Eric's mouth and nostrils. "That will do," Ollivander ordered, and the tape fell to the floor. "Alright, Mr. Crome, give this a wave. Ash and unicorn hair. Nine and a half inches. Rather supple."

Eric waved the wand, but nothing happened. Ollivander set it aside on the chair and got out another wand, "Yew and dragon heartstring. Fourteen inches. Strong, yet flexible." Eric took the wand, and it felt good in his hand. He waved it around, and a trail of platinum sparks followed the tip. Hagrid cried out in enthusiasm.

A few minutes later, Eric and Hagrid exited the shop. Eric was seven Galleons poorer, but he now had his own wand. Hagrid pulled out an envelope from one of his enormous coat's many pockets and handed it to the boy, "Here's yer ticket fer Hogwarts. Kings Cross, 11:00, first o' September. I figure I better let yeh hang on to it, I wouldn't want to lose it."

Eric pocketed the envelope, "Thanks."

"Well, I suppose I better be takin' yer to yer new home now," Hagrid thought aloud.

"Hey, Hagrid, what's that?" Eric pointed excitedly to the other side of the giant. Hagrid turned his head to look, but saw nothing.

"What's what?" Hagrid looked back, only to find Eric wasn't there anymore. Neither were his school supplies. The huge man sighed, "Dumbledore told me he'd probably do that…"

Over a month later, on September 1st

Eric Crome stood outside of Kings Cross roughly a half hour before eleven. The tattoo that had been on the back of his right hand was missing. He had replaced his trunk with a large duffel bag, which looked far too big and heavy for him to carry. The shoulder strap was slung over his shoulder as he checked his ticket. "Platform Nine and Three-Quarters? Where the bloody fuck is that?" Eric took a look around the area amid the platforms, pausing as his gaze went over the isolating wall between platforms nine and ten. He walked right up to it, and passed through it like it wasn't even there.

Now, Eric stood on a different platform. A sign hanging in the air read Hogwarts Express, Eleven O' Clock. There was a red locomotive parked nearby, with crowds of people around it. Owls hooted in their cages as cats scurried about underfoot. Eric made his way on board the train, moving to the back so as to find an open compartment. He sat on one of the seats, placing his duffel bag beside him. Outside the window, a red-haired family was sending off four boys to school. Their mother was fussing over them, while a girl younger than the rest seemed put off about not being able to go as well.

Soon the train was leaving the station. Eric sighed, frowning a bit. He had been without a family for a long time, and seeing all those families out there had made him feel lonely. The compartment door slid open, and Eric put on a more pleasant expression as the youngest of the redheaded boys came in. "Anyone sitting there?" the freckled boy pointed at the seat opposite of Eric. "Everywhere else is full."

"Mi casa es su casa," Eric waved him in. He saw that the boy had a black smudge on his nose.

"Hey, Ron." Identical twin redheads stuck their faces in the room, each about the height as the redhead already in the compartment. One spoke, "Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula further up the train. We're going to check it out."

"Alright," Ron said.

"Hey, haven't seen you before. You're not a first year, are you?" one twin asked, talking to the boy who wasn't his brother.

"I am," Eric assured him.

The other twin talked next, "Blimey, I would've guessed you were a third year."

"I get that a lot," Eric smiled faintly. "My name's Eric Crome."

"Well, we're Fred and George Weasley. Him there is our brother, Ron," the first twin gestured to each boy as he said their name. "Be seeing you." The twins left.

"I noticed you guys outside the train earlier. You've got a big family," Eric remarked.

"Yeah. Five older brothers, one younger sister. Bill and Charlie already graduated. Bill was Head Boy. Charlie was Quiddich Captain. Percy's a Prefect. Fred and George get good marks, even with all the pranks they pull, and everyone thinks they're hilarious. I'm expected to do as well as them, but since it's expected, it's not a big deal if I do. And everything I've got is a hand-me-down. Even Percy's old rat, Scabbers," Ron pulled a large gray rodent from his coat, which was out like a light.

"Your brother's rat? How old is Scabbers?" Eric asked.

"I don't know. He was old when Percy got him," Ron frowned. "All he does is sleep."

Eric stared at the rat for a few seconds, noting its missing toe. Rats normally only live between two and five years, with an average of three. Of course, the record is over seven years, and maybe magic rats live longer. He is certainly magical.

"Percy got an owl for being made prefect, and I got Scabbers, since dad couldn't aff-, er," the freckled boy trailed off, gazing out the window, apparently embarrassed.

"So, looking forward to any of the classes?" Eric changed the subject. He and Ron started discussing what little they actually knew of Hogwarts. It wasn't long before that topic moved to Quidditch, and Ron was explaining the game to Eric. At nearly 12:30, a cheerful woman with a cart of candy stopped by to see if they wanted to buy any. Eric quickly bought a round of everything, wanting to try them out. He also got some to share with Ron, as all the redhead had to eat was corned beef sandwiches. Since Ron hated corned beef, Eric ate the sandwiches instead. Ron also explained the Chocolate Frog cards.

Eric set aside his Albus Dumbledore card when he heard a knock on the door. A teary-eyed, round faced boy slid open the compartment, "Has anyone seen a toad?"

Ron shook his head. "Nope. Sorry," Eric told the round faced boy.

The boy sobbed, "I just can't keep a hold of him! I've really lost him this time!"

"Hey, calm down," Eric said soothingly. "What's your name?"

"Neville. Neville Longbottom," the boy sniffed.

"Alright, Neville. If we see your toad, we'll let you know. Just keep looking, okay?" Eric assured him.

"Okay. Thanks," Neville left.

"I wouldn't be so worked up over a toad if I was him," Ron commented.

"Eh, to each their own," Eric replied.

"Not that I'm one to talk. All I've got is Scabbers. He could die, and you wouldn't be able to tell. George gave me a spell to turn him yellow, but I couldn't get it to work. I'll try again," Ron dug out a beat up wand, the unicorn hair core peeking out the handle. He raised the wand and said, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

The compartment door opened as he was attempting his spell. A girl with shaggy brown hair stood there with Neville, wearing her school robes. Scabbers was unchanged by the spell. The girl spoke rapidly in a bossy tone, "Is that a real spell? All the spells I've tried have worked, although they were all simple ones. I was amazed when I got my letter; no one in my family has ever been magical. Hogwarts is supposed to be the best there is. I've memorized all the course books, hopefully that will keep my grades up. I'm Hermione Granger, who are you?"

"Eric Crome, and this is Ron Weasley," the American introduced them. "Nice to meet you, Hermione. Hey, Neville, found your toad yet?"

"Not yet. But Hermione's helping," Neville replied.

"Well, good luck. You could cover more ground if the two of you split up," Eric advised.

"Yes, we had better get back to finding Neville's toad. We should be arriving soon. You two ought to get changed," Hermione said before she left, Neville not far behind.

"I think you should be more wary of spells your brothers give you," Eric stated.

"Stupid George …" the redhead grumbled.

"You might want to rub that dirt off your nose before we get there," Eric pointed out.

Ron cleaned the dirt off with his sleeve. "So, you're from America?"

"Well, I was born in England, but I've lived in the U.S. for most of my life," Eric elucidated.

"What's it like over there?" the freckled boy asked.

So Eric explicated to Ron about how things are in the United States of America. He tried to keep things simple and factual, listing some of the good and some of the bad. After a while, their conversation was interrupted by an announcement, stating that they were about five minutes away from Hogwarts. Ron and Eric got out their school robes and slipped them on, Eric somewhat distastefully. Eric let Ron have the rest of the candy, and the Weasley boy happily stuffed his pockets full.

The train slowed and came to a stop outside a small, unlit train platform. Eric stood back and waited for everyone else as they tried to force their way out. The dark air was chill, and Eric noted that there were trees around them blocking any light. He also spotted Hagrid, who was towering over the students while holding an old lamp above his head. "Firs' years! Firs' years, follow me! Any other firs' years?" the giant called out.

The first year students followed Hagrid up a sheer, constricted trail. "Jus round this bend, yeh'll be gettin' yer first sight of Hogwarts," the huge man yelled back. And, indeed, the trail ended at a vast black lake. On the other side of the water was a massive castle, nestled atop a tall mountain peak. Starlight glittered off of the windows of the castle's many towers and turrets.

"Four to a boat only! No more 'n that!" Hagrid motioned them toward a large number of watercraft near the shore. Ron and Eric shared their boat with Neville and Hermione. Hagrid was too big for anyone to share with him. After making sure all the students were in a boat, the giant shouted, "Forward!"

The small armada drifted toward the castle, leaving not a ripple in the perfectly still water. "Heads down!" Hagrid ordered as the ships neared the cliff face. Behind a drape of ivy plants was a cave in the cliff, which the boats took them through. After a trip down the dark tunnel, the children arrived at a dock beneath the castle. Small stones lined the earth beside where the boats stopped, and the students got out. Hagrid checked the boats for stragglers, and found Neville's toad in the process.

Ascending by a passage in the stone wall, lit only by Hagrid's lamp, the students arrived outside of Hogwarts on a patch of grass. They climbed the great rock steps there to an immense oak door. Hagrid checked on the children once again, before knocking three times. Immediately the door opened, revealing a tall, stern-faced witch with dark hair, wearing sparkling green robes and a set of square glasses.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," the giant said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," the emerald witch replied. She pulled the door open further, letting everyone see the gargantuan entrance hall. The ceiling was beyond normal human eyesight. Lit torches lined the stone walls. At the end, a marble staircase headed to higher floors. While voices of older students could be heard from a door on their right, the first year students were taken to another room. They crowded inside, as the room was not very big.

Eric listened to Professor McGonagall's introduction to Hogwarts. Houses? Points? Using competition to encourage good behavior and effort in class? Not to mention peer pressure. Well, it's not perfect, but I'll bet it's effective.

The emerald witch left, after suggesting that they neaten themselves up. While the rest of the students discussed their theories on the Sorting, Eric moved away from the others and leaned on the far wall. From this position, he was the first to see it when spectral beings started passing through the wall. A number of the first years screamed.

An overweight monk and another ghost in ruffled tights were arguing, apparently about someone named Peeves. "I say, what are all of you doing here?" questioned the tight-wearing ghost.

No one said anything. Eric, unfazed, spoke up, "We're waiting to be Sorted. First years, you know."

"Ah! New students! I hope to see you in Hufflepuff! That was my old house," the Fat Friar commented.

Abruptly, Professor McGonagall returned, and lead the first years single file back across the entrance hall and through the double doors of the Great Hall. Countless floating candles lit up the room. Sitting at four long tables were the older students. Golden cups and plates covered the tables. On the far side of the hall was the teacher's table, easily identified as such by all the adults sitting there, including Dumbledore. Eric noticed that there appeared to be no roof, but looking carefully he could tell it was just an illusion spell to make the ceiling look like the open sky.

Eric recognized the hat Professor McGonagall placed on a stool in front of the new students. It had been in Dumbledore's office, a beat-up and dirty wizard's cap. Everyone watched the hat for a few moments, before it moved. One of its many rips, this one near the bottom, began to move like a mouth as the hat sang. When it finished, everyone applauded. The hat bowed to each student table and went lifeless once more. Ron complained that Fred had told him that he had to wrestle a troll.

"Might've been fun," Eric said under his breath.

/ I doubt the other students would feel the same way,/ Negari responded.

Author's Notes

You've probably noticed that I skip certain things, like the Sorting Hat's song, or sum up conversations, like McGonagall's speech to the first years. I have my reasons. For one, I'm trying not to outright plagiarize J.K. Rowling's work too much. For two, I figure me putting these things in would just be a waste of time. Everyone reading this story should already know them. If you don't, go pick up (or maybe even borrow) a copy of the book. Or read any number of other Harry Potter fanfictions that cover his first year.

And thanks to Bobboky and Michael The-Zorch Haney for their replies! Everyone else should reply, too, even if it's just to flame me.