Inspiration – Chapter 2 – A Stranger on a Train
A/N: Hello! I know it was short but my first chapter seems to have garnered a good response. Hopefully more becomes clear below…I hope I have done it justice.
After Hermione ran through the barrier and out onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, she had to pause to take of the magnificent sight. The scarlet locomotive, hissing every so often under a cloak of brass and steel. Trunks were already being loaded into the baggage van as Hermione approached along with dozens of caged owls and other various parcels and pieces of luggage.
Before she handed over her trunk and Crookshanks' cat carrier, she extracted a satchel that she had prepared that morning, that carried everything she would need for the eight and a half hour long journey to the Scottish Highlands: wand, cloak, uniform, robes, purse, quill, ink, parchment, books and some knitting if she got bored. The bag wouldn't have been able to contain everything had she not prepared ahead the previous year and learnt how to perform feather-light and undetectable extension charms.
Bag in hand, she made her way to the nearest carriage, found a bathroom and changed into her school robes before reappearing minutes later on the platform, her prefect badge pinned to her chest.
For Hermione, the next quarter of an hour was spent guiding people towards the train, confiscating contraband, putting three second-year Slytherins in detention for foul language and comforting a first year who had just left his parents. It was hard work but Hermione took it in her stride – after all, it was only the first fifteen minutes. The scene on the platform could only be described as organised chaos.
In the minutes before eleven o'clock, the only bright spots were bumping into Neville Longbottom (the other Gryffindor Prefect) and Daphne Greengrass – who had been made a Slytherin Prefect along with Draco Malfoy. Daphne was somebody Hermione considered a friend, despite the differences – a Gryffindor muggleborn and the heiress of one of the last pureblood magical dynasties were not considered instant bedfellows but each had an enormous amount of respect and admiration for each other after Daphne helped Hermione defeat a troll that had somehow made its way into the castle during their first Halloween at Hogwarts.
Neville Longbottom was one of the only people Hermione could call a friend within Gryffindor Tower and one of the few people who had ignored Ronald Weasley who had tried to go out of his way to isolate Hermione from her housemates since her first year after Hermione 'embarrassed' him – she was only trying to help. He was just incompetent.
Weasley was considered 'Prince of Gryffindor' by some after he saved his sister from the jaws of Slytherin's monster during his second year, but Hermione and some of the other, more mature Gryffindors saw him as possessing below average intelligence and gifted with tremendously bad manners. Even his twin brothers looked on at his actions in disgust.
Hermione was pleasantly surprised that Neville had made prefect; she had worried that due to his popularity and demonstration of leadership within the house, Weasley would have made prefect over either of them. Then she had to remind herself that Professor McGonagall probably shared her opinions of Weasley.
The teasing of Hermione, from Weasley and his cronies - Seamus Finnegan and Cormac McLaggen – had continued from the last four years. It came to head when they decided to trick her into believing that Quidditch superstar and Durmstrang champion, Victor Krum, had asked her to accompany him to the Yule Ball.
Although originally intended as a joke at Hermione's expense, she would never forget the looks of fury shot at her by almost every girl in the room as she danced with Krum at the ball. As it happened, Hermione bothered to check the facts and checked with Victor whether the invitation was genuine. Weasley's farce was revealed there and then and Hermione's hopes were crushed, but Krum who was against the odds, still without a date asked her to come along anyway. They had a wonderful evening and their friendship had blossomed from there. They had kept in touch over the summer and Krum had promised her ticket to his next game in Britain. The joke was all on Weasley as Hermione became the envy of the ballroom.
Hermione was pulled from her thoughts by Daphne and Neville. Daphne was tapping her watch.
"It's two minutes to eleven, we'd better get on board, it wouldn't do to be late," said the young blonde witch.
Daphne had 'developed' physically over the summer and Hermione was sure that her reputation as 'ice-queen' of Slytherin would only be bolstered by it. Daphne and the Greengrass family reminded her of the muggle aristocracy and their stately homes and landed estates. Greengrass Manor was nearly the size of Buckingham Palace and as elegant as Blenheim in Oxfordshire. The Grangers had the privilege of being Daphne's guests to her parents' Mid-summer garden party for the past three years. The situation had caused quite a stir in the society pages of the Daily Prophet; muggles, at a pureblood's garden party? There was outrage, until Adrian Greengrass (Daphne's father) released a steely statement:
"If my guests have a problem with my guest list then they have a problem with me and I would kindly ask them to stop associating with myself and my family. Muggles are in many cases much better people than the wizards and witches I do business with."
It didn't stop the prejudice but it did remove it from the society pages of the Daily Prophet.
The three teenagers made for the first coach of the train, only pausing to watch the annual spectacle of the Weasley family arriving on the platform, seconds before the scheduled time of departure. As Hermione, Neville and Daphne took their seats in the Prefect's Carriage, Hermione heard the station clock chime eleven times. Somewhere, a whistle blew and the steel motion of the locomotive hissed into life as the Hogwarts Express started on its journey north.
After sitting attentively through the nearly hour long prefect meeting chaired by the Head boy and Head Girl, Hermione didn't think she could bear one more cutting remark from Draco Malfoy who decided to sit himself next to Daphne. Malfoy was still questioning why a pureblood heiress would decide to associate with a "filthy mudblood" (Hermione) and a "blubbering slob of a boy with little magical talent" (Neville) when she could be spending time with the scion of a wealthy, civilised pureblood family.
"Father assures me that there will be big changes this year at our disgrace of a school, it won't be too long until filth like yourselves will be ancient history," Malfoy simpered. When Neville heard the word 'filth', Hermione had to put a restraining hand on his wand arm.
"Hogwarts is not a disgrace, it's just attended by disgraceful students," Hermione retorted.
"You should learn to respect your betters Granger," Draco hissed.
"I think that we can all mutually agree that the youngest Weasley son is a disgrace," Daphne said and in a rare moment of unity, Hermione, Neville and Malfoy nodded simultaneously.
"Yes, but-", but Daphne cut Draco off with a sharp look.
"…and I'm sure Hermione does respect her betters," she said, her tone icy as she rose from her seat, indicating to her friends to rise also, "but I find it hard to imagine that she respects somebody who insults, bullies and teases herself and for that matter, her friends. I would be amazed if she considers you to be one of her 'betters', I certainly do not." She turned to Neville and Hermione; "Find another compartment. I'll catch you up. Mr Malfoy and myself have unfinished business to discuss," she said in a sickly sweet, almost sing-song voice whilst flashing an almost reptilian smile.
Malfoy gulped.
"What do you think she'll do to him?" Hermione asked as they made their way along the carriage.
"I have no idea, but I'm glad she isn't angry at me and I hope that whatever she does, shuts the blond prig up." Neville chuckled.
As it happened, Daphne did all the talking.
"We have to work together this year and you may not like me and you may not like my friends but it is really none of your concern. I do not need your protection and if you ever hurt my friends again, you will need protection from me. At the very least, be civil or I'll send you to the Hospital Wing in a matchbox. A situation I'm sure, that would please a great many people. Am I clear?"
"Crystal." If Malfoy could get any paler, he did now as he shrank from Daphne's gaze. Her ice blue eyes ablaze.
"Good. Why we have to work together to uphold the honour of the noble house of Salazar, I'll never know but I can tell you this; I don't like it. Remember that we have to show the first years the way to our Common Room after the feast."
Malfoy nodded.
"And if you can possibly, find a way off your high pedestal, I'd appreciate it if you apologised to Hermione and Neville." She was out of the compartment a few seconds later. Malfoy sighed in relief.
Daphne caught up with Hermione and Neville who were still navigating their way through the crowded carriages of the train, looking for an empty compartment. They were coming to the end of the second to last carriage when Hermione decided she had enough. The compartment she was stood in front of only had a single occupant who was staring out of the window.
"We aren't going to find much better," she told the others, before wrenching the door open. "Excuse me, do you mind if we sit in here? Everywhere else is full."
The occupant turned from the window to look at the newcomers. He appeared to take a wire out of his ear before speaking.
"Not at all, have a seat. It's busier than I expected."
The occupant was a boy. He gestured to them to sit. His voice was clipped and calm yet had a slight American twang to it. Hermione, Neville and Daphne had never seen him before, despite the fact he looked about their age. He wasn't a foreigner but his face was tanned, like he had come from abroad. His black hair was messy and his glasses sat primly on his nose. He had an athletic build and Hermione would even categorise him as being slightly attractive.
"Interesting…" the boy muttered as Hermione, Neville and Daphne took their seats.
"Sorry, but what is interesting?" asked Daphne.
"A Slytherin and two Gryffindors, sharing a compartment and not arguing, things have changed since my father's day."
"Your father went to Hogwarts?"
"A long time ago."
There was an awkward silence. The boy started to twirl the wire he had pulled from his ear between his fingers.
"Are those earphones?" Hermione blurted out.
"Yes," the boy replied.
"Earphones?" asked a confused Neville.
"Miniature devices that emit sound and fit in the ear. Muggles use them to listen to music from a music player. It's like having a portable gramophone."
"Very good," said the boy, "I didn't really think that people would recognise them."
"I'm muggle-born." Hermione smiled. "My name's Hermione, this is Neville and Daphne," she indicated her friends.
"So is my Mum," the boy said wistfully. "A muggle-born, that is."
"But electricity isn't meant to work around magic."
"Do you believe everything you've been taught? With a few modifications, of course it can work. This stuff is really quite common in the States."
"States?" Daphne asked curious as to what this stranger could be referring to.
"The United States of America, a very large country, 3,500 miles and a whole ocean away from here," said the boy, looking out of the window.
"Is that where you are from?" asked Hermione.
"No, I live on an island in the Caribbean, I got these," he indicated the earphones and an iPod which he extracted from a pocket, "on 13th Avenue in New York City." As Hermione recalled, the 13th Avenue was the equivalent of London's Diagon Alley.
"I didn't think it was possible for such things to exist. Can I try it?" asked Hermione hopefully.
"Of course," the boy handed her an earbud. She put it in her ear and heard something she identified as being by Beethoven after a few seconds.
"The Seventh Symphony?" Hermione asked, the boy nodded. "Not only a stranger, but a stranger with good taste in music, can they have a go?" Hermione indicated Neville and Daphne.
"Be my guest," the boy smiled, "it's nothing special."
"Nothing special?" Hermione asked incredulously. "Nothing special? It shouldn't be possible."
"Anything is possible if you apply yourself," the boy replied.
"Surely this violates the laws on the misuse of muggle artefacts?" Daphne said, taking the earphone offered by Neville.
"Even if it is illegal, it is brilliant. That is a really nice piece of music," Neville said.
"I have Beethoven's complete works on there and yes it is legal, my Dad checked," the boy smiled.
"That is a remarkable piece of magic," said Daphne, pulling the wire from her ear.
"Music is something that is beyond the power of magic, don't you think?"
"Oh certainly," Daphne agreed. "But I have another question, who are you?"
"Forgive me," the boy said looking sheepish. "I've been really rude to the three of you, I should have introduced myself when you came in. My name is Harry, Harry Potter."
The smiles on Hermione, Neville and Daphne's faces vanished and were replaced with frowns. Once more an awkward silence smothered the compartment.
Once again, Hermione was the one to break it: "That is impossible. Harry Potter is dead."
A/N: Well, what do you think? Thoughts? Please leave a review, I'd be eternally grateful! The next chapter will be up as soon as it can be written!
