Chapter 1

The Morning of Harry Potters eleventh Birthday on July 31st started just the same as any ordinary day might. But then again Harry Mused, St. Hilda's Orphanage where he had lived his last 7 years would never allow one of the boys to break the routine for something so mundane as a Birthday.

He woke early, and was down to the dining hall before anyone else, he grabbed a bowl of Shredded wheat from the counter, and sat down behind one of the wooden benched tables. The orphanage had for the last 4 years benefitted from the patronage of a very wealthy London businessman who felt that some degree of philanthropy would do his enterprise good, whatever the reason, Harry was pleased with the situation. This had led to the entire building being perhaps not comfortable, but at least clean.

By the time the first wave of children entered the dining room, Harry had finished his cereal and was watching the children attentively. The relationship Harry shared with his housemates was frosty at best. It wasn't Harry's fault, but whomever crossed Harry often ended up in a bad way. One boy had once slapped Harry's food from his hands, and that night had fallen into a coma. That was four years ago and he still wasn't awake.

There had been other examples of Harry's peculiar ability to control things, and these abilities had, over the years developed, Harry could now command animals without training them or make people hurt when he wanted to. Naturally the other boys and staff had questioned Harry at length, but they never had proof, He could disguise his emotions well. Too well sometimes.

Aside from his mountains of book, His only real companion at the Orphanage was Cecil, a runty little boy with a large forehead and bulging eyes. Harry only tolerated his company as it amused him how easy to manipulate he was, and Cecil benefitted as Harry offered him a great deal of protection from the older boys.

"Happy Birthday Harry!" Called a voice from the door, Cecil bounced over to his table, left conspicuously empty as the rest of the room started to fill up,

"Thank you Cecil, I trust you slept well?"

Cecil, as always when Harry took an interest in his life, beamed, "Very well, very well thank you"Harry smiled slightly. "I got you a present, it took all this year's savings, but I think you'll like it."

"That was very kind, do you have it with you?" The smaller boys smile didn't fade a bit.

"No no, it's in my room, I thought… if you wanted, we could maybe use it this morning" Harry nodded, and Cecil settled happily into his bran flakes.

"Here you are" A Large rectangular box was thrust into Harry's arms. He held it up to his ear and shook, Cecil grinned, "Just open it for pity's sake!"

As the wrapping paper was thrown to the ground Harry was left with a cardboard box with the words "Risk: The Ultimate strategy Board game." Harry cocked his head and looked at Cecil,

"It's a strategy game Harry!" Cecil grinned

"I am aware of that, I can read." The small boy flushed,

"It's a game, you pick a country and then fight other people to try to take over the world. I thought it would be a level up from that chess board we always use!" Harry smiled, he had been a great fan of strategy based games and situations for as long as he could remember, and this gift would certainly allow him to exploit his passion.

"Well come on then Cec, lets open it up!" Cecil immediately tore of the plastic outer coating and pulled the lid of the box,

"Pick a colour Harry"

"Red." Harry answered as he peered at the small figurines in the box. Cecil chose green and together they set up the board. Soon they were thoroughly engrossed in the game, as in their chess games, Harry was wiping the floor. Europe fell to the red soldiers, followed by North America, South America, Africa and most of Asia.

To Harry the board was awash with possibilities, and Cecil's rapidly thinning troops were unable to keep up with Harrys Voracious appetite for conquest. The first game was over in 40 minutes. They played again, this time Harry won in 30.

"One more Harry, I can't handle being destroyed too many times in a day!" Harry grinned apologetically and they reset the board.

This match Harry played differently. Whereas before, Conquest had been Harry's goal, this time he attempted to minimalize his casualties. Thus over an Hour later, Harry commanded only 2/3rds of the board, however his armies were more than three times the size of his enemy's. Cecil had just launched a last hurrah invasion of Africa, in which Harry had easily trapped and massacred Cecil's best effort with minimal casualties when the door opened.

"Harry are you in here? Ah, Cecil, good morning," the Matronly head of the orphanage, Mrs Phelps, poked her head around the door. "Harry you have a visitor, from a school your parents put you down for."

Harry's looked up at the door, the gleeful expression he had had at the possibility of destroying Cecil almost immediately replaced by an innocent look of confusion. The Matron shuddered at the boy, he had been nothing but trouble ever since she took him in 7 years ago.

The woman behind her was old, with her steel grey hair bound into a tight bun behind her head, she had a severe, if fair expression on her face.

"Mr Potter, My name is Minerva McGonagall, I am a teacher from a school where we would like you to attend." Harrys face remained politely puzzled, however his eye showed a shrewd cunning that Minerva had never seen on one so young, it was neither malicious nor friendly, it was… unnerving.

"Yes yes, we will leave you two to chat, come now Cecil, you can play your game later. Come come." Mrs Phelps called. Cecil left, promising to clear up the game later. Harry ignored him, but pulled out a chair for the teacher, and sat across from her at his small desk for homework.

"Mr Potter, I represent a… special… school, in Scotland called Hogwarts" she paused to take a breath when Harry interrupted her,

"Special how?" the words were spoken calmly, but Professor McGonagall couldn't help but sense that what she had said had set him on edge.

"Special as in it is for Wizards and Witches, that is to say, practitioners of magic." Harry's eyes flickered from the Risk board, where he had been silently reviewing strategy, straight back to the teacher. Neither said anything, She waited for him to react, he waited for her to either laugh off her poor joke or expand. Finally,

"Your Mother and Father, before, well, before they couldn't take care of you they placed you on our lists. Have you ever managed something incredible, impossible or unexpected when you felt strong emotions?" She looked at him, seeing as how a fire suddenly lit in his eyes,

"So it's magic? I can do magic?" McGonagall nodded and Harry smirked "I always knew I was different, they could never keep up with me, no wonder if they were lesser beings." He said this mainly to himself, but McGonagall interrupted,

"Would you like a demonstration of what we can do?" Harry's nod came at once. And the aged professor smiled before pulling out her wand. She noticed Harry's eyes stick to the thin stick of wood in evident envy. She gave it a wave and all the chess pieces on Harry's board started to sing. Harry blinked then grinned, a wide toothy smile.

"May I take it you are interested in pursuing your education at Hogwarts?" asked McGonagall,

"I am certainly interested in gaining a magical education professor, however I feel I would be a fool if I took the first opportunity presented, forgive me, are there any other magical schools I could attend?" He said this with a humble and embarrassed look on his face, and if McGonagall hadn't been paying such close attention to his eyes she would have fallen for it. She sniffed haughtily,

"There are other schools, certainly, however none are in the same league as Hogwarts in Britain, as for international schools, most of them tend to be rather… selective in their students." She said this as though it were a great strain for her.

"Forgive me professor I did not mean to infer your school to be any less than exemplary." McGonagall looked appeased.

"Anyway Harry, your parents did leave the school adequate funds to put you through your education before the uh, incident." Harry looked at her, for the first time a look of genuine puzzlement on his face,

"Incident professor, forgive me, I know nothing of my parents before they died, and would certainly appreciate any insight you could offer." The grey haired witch suddenly appeared strained.

"Mr Potter, Harry, Your parents, well your father, is not dead. He is… he… I am afraid he has been incarcerated, he is in Azkaban. The Wizarding prison, where he has been for the last eight years. I am sorry to tell you this." Harry looked down at his lap, his gut had clenched tightly, his father was a criminal. He opened his mouth to speak, but to his embarrassment his voice wouldn't come to him.

"Why?" It was all he could manage, the single syllable sounded horribly forced to the boy who prided himself on being able to bluff through any situation.

"I should start at the beginning Harry, It is a long story, but I hope you will forgive me if I give you a far more condensed version. It is not wholly appropriate for a person as young as you are."

Harry nodded and the professor leant back, before continuing.

"Harry, you were born on the 31st of July 1978 to James and Lily Potter. Your mother was one of the best witches, best people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and your father, well I had thought him a good man also. I know for certain that when you were born both your parents loved you very much. However at the time of your birth, there was a war in magical Britain. There was an evil, dark wizard who wished to control all of Britain. And he was willing to use any means necessary to achieve his goals of domination and subjugation." Harry raised his head,

"What was the dark wizard's name?" his voice was strained, but steady.

"His name, although I do warn you, it is not said in society often if at all, is Vol... Voldemort" she gave a small shiver "and he had radical views on Blood Purity. He believed that only wizards and witches with Pure Blood, that is to say two parents with all magical ancestors were worthy of living in magical Britain. When he was in school, yes, he was a student at Hogwarts too," she mentioned when Harry's eyebrows rose, "When he was in school, he was an exceptionally charming boy, with a brilliant mind and a passion for knowledge. I did not know him personally, as the year he left was the year I began teaching, however he was held in great esteem by most every student who knew him. However, many years later, he returned to the public limelight, but now as Lord Voldemort," she twitched again. "A terrible leader with an army of sympathetic wizard's, witches and beasts." She paused and took a long breath.

"When you were born the war had been raging for many years. There had been thousands of casualties and most everyone was desperate. The first few years of your life you lived with your parents in hiding. However when you were 2 years old, Neville Longbottom was born. Now no one knows why, but as soon as this happened, the Dark Lord began targeting him to kill him." Harry looked surprised, and opened his mouth as though to speak, but then quickly closed it again.

"Neville and his family were put into hiding and the Dark Lords efforts were frustrated for over a year. However, on Halloween 1981 Your Father betrayed them. He was one of the very few people who knew their location, and he freely gave this information to the Dark Lord. That night the Longbottom's were attacked. Frank and Alice, Neville's parents, were both killed. However Neville lived… somehow he survived where no others did and in his survival, the Dark Lord was slain. Whether he is dead or merely in hiding is a matter of much discussion, however what is known is that two of your father's friends, Sirius Black and Algie Longbottom went to apprehend James and bring him to Justice. He killed Algie and seriously injured Sirius. But he was captured and imprisoned."

"What happened to my mother? Or was she in league with my father?" McGonagall's cheeks tinged red and her nostrils flared.

"Your Mother was not involved with your father. However when word got out of your fathers crimes there was a public backlash," she sniffed loudly, her eyes glistened, "a mob attacked your house, Your mother got you to safety, but she… she was killed in the process." The normally stern witch's cheeks were blotchy and Harry wondered if he should comfort her.

"You were sent here so no vengeful wizards could attack you like they did your mother."

McGonagall finished her story and silence enveloped the small room. Harry sat stock still his eyes fixed firmly ahead, McGonagall conjured a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes and nose. A few minutes went by. Before the Scottish witch tried to unsubtly change the conversation topic,

"So Harry, shall we get your school things, there is a magical alley in here in London." She looked at Harry as he nodded slowly, then shook himself.

"I shall get my school things. You may leave, I would appreciate directions however." The aged professor looked set to object, but then appeared to decide against it.

"Very well, I understand you wish to be alone." She withdrew from a fold in her clothes a thick yellow envelope and a small golden key.

"This contains a list of what you shall need, as well as a train ticket and directions to the platform for the Hogwarts express." She put the envelope on the table, "and this is a key to the Hogwarts Bursary vault. I am afraid your family vault and all your family's properties were seized by the government." Harry's lips tightened slightly but he nodded.

Silence enveloped them once more, before the professor stood and made her way to the door. "I am sorry to bear such terrible news Harry, though I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts." Just before she had almost left when Harry stopped her.

"Professor. What sort of treatment should I expect from Wizards?"

"It will not be easy Harry, but no one knows what you look like. I would suggest anonymity is your best weapon at this point." With those foreboding words she left.

Five Minutes later Cecil entered, peeking his head around the door. "Harry?" The raven haired boy didn't move. "Harry?"

"Get out Cec." Cecil didn't move, but looked at his only friend concerned.

"I said LEAVE!" Cecil actually recoiled at the vicious look in Harry's eyes. His voice was filled with rage and Malice and he scrambled to obey. Hurriedly shutting the door behind him. Harry sighed and picked up the yellowed envelope. Flicking through the sheaves of heavy parchment, he stopped on the one with directions to Diagon Alley.

The Pub which claimed to be the only entrance to Diagon Alley was not much in Harry's opinion. The floor was stained and the counter dusty, there was a smell of old beer and stale tobacco over the whole room and Harry wrinkled his nose. "Can I help you lad?" came a friendly voice.

Harry turned to see a bald, stooping man grinning at him, a rather horrifying sight, seeing as how the man had only one wonky yellowed tooth. However Harry smiled politely,

"I'm looking for Diagon Alley, am I in the right place?" his voice was casual, whilst the hood he had covering his face kept him obscured.

"Course Lad, this is the place, the entrance is round the back, follow me, follow me." They left the bar, and entered a yard at the back, filled with dustbins and smashed bricks. "Pay attention to the sequence, get it wrong and you'll feel a right muggle." The man gave a wheezy chuckle and then tapped a series of bricks in the high wall before them.

Before his almost disbelieving eyes the wall disintegrating, leaving an archway to a wide street filled with brightly coloured shop fronts. "Well this is Diagon Alley lad, come by the pub for a spot of tea later if you like." The old barman said with a smile before returning to his shop.

Harry stepped forward, eyes darting from side to side, barely maintaining his composure. He shook himself. Plenty of time for sightseeing later he thought. He strode purposefully towards a white Marble building that was larger than any other in the alley, if the letter was correct, this was the bank, Gringotts.

Stepping through the high doors into the cavernous bank entrance. Harry let his eyes take in the sights, incredibly high and wide, Harry thought the entire orphanage could fit into this room. He smirked, before joining one of the long lines of people queuing for service. As he slowly moved forward, he saw the tellers were not men, but instead were short humanoids, with long pointed ears, long fingers and large eyes. 'Goblins!' Harry thought, remembering his letter.

Reaching the front of the queue, he tried not to stare at the bored looking goblin before him. "Key." Harry offered the small key he had been given and the goblin gazed at it for a few seconds before nodding. "Riptooth!" he cried and another Goblin scurried over. "Get me a sack from the Hogwarts Bursary fund. Quickly!" the Goblin scurried off and a few moments later returned with a small leather purse. "50 Galleons. Here is your key. Next." Harry was pushed aside by the next customer and quickly pocketed the purse and key. He felt hopelessly out of his depth, a feeling he didn't like one bit.

He made his way outside before wandering over to a large bookshop nearby, the sign Flourish and Blotts hung above the faded green door. "Can I help Son?" asked a portly gentlemen who stood by the door. "I would like the first year Hogwarts books please" Harry asked politely, "and also any books on the Wizarding world, the government, culture, money and the like." The man looked at him,

"Muggleborn eh? No problem, we have first year book sets in row 10 and Wizarding world books are row 2, anything else?" Harry shook his head and the man nodded before heading back to the counter.

The next two hours of the morning Harry spent devouring books in the bookshop. He quickly learnt about Wizarding money. The money he had would be adequate for his school purchases with maybe a little left for extras. He had since read a brief introduction to government, which in his opinion was too brief, but he didn't help much, but the other books on the topic were too big to read properly.

Thus he was now sitting on one of the stools provided reading about the Wizarding war. He wanted to know what his Father had believed in, but the book wasn't helpful, providing a partial account of events. Harry sighed, History is written by the Victors, he thought ruefully. He read the book anyway, it wouldn't do for somehow to shock him at a later date by being more knowledgeable.

Around 3 in the afternoon, after 3 hours of intense reading, Harry stood up, purchased his first year books, and continued shopping, he hurried through the rest of the shops, quickly getting his cauldron, potion ingredients, trunk, telescope and robes. He looked down at his list. Parchment, Quills and Ink, and a Wand he thought to himself. He saw a stationers two shops away and soon all that was left was his wand.

Ollivanders appeared to be the only wand shop in the street and Harry made his way over. He opened the door and the bell tinkled, there was a family being served and he settled down to wait. Before too long, 3 red heads entered the store, a matronly looking mother and two sons who appeared to be twins. Harry kept his face in shadow and tried to remain inconspicuous, it appeared to work, for as the first family settled their bill, the red heads stood and approached the counter.

"Ah Mrs Weasely, how lovely to see you in here again, your sons have grown" said the white haired shopkeeper in a soft voice, "However, it is Mr Potters turn to be assisted, he has been in longer." Harry blinked as the man's pale eyes came to rest on him. The Matronly redhead turned and when she saw him seemed to swell.

"Mr Ollivander" she said loudly, "Is it wise to be providing him with a wand? You know what his family did!" Harry glowered, but internally knew this was to be expected, his family name wasn't the best in Britain after all. The books he had read had rather reinforced that idea.

"Mrs Weasely, forgive me, but you should not judge the son for the sins of the father. Do not let one bad apple sour your opinion." The pale eyed shopkeeper said in his creepy voice. The twins on either side of the woman were looking at him curiously, but not hostilely.

"I'm Fred, this is my brother George." Said the first brother. "Starting Hogwarts this year?"

Harry nodded and the twins smiled again. Harry "We have three elder brothers, Bills already graduated, but Charlie and Perce are still there." Before Harry could reply, Mrs Weasely seemed to notice what her sons were doing.

"Get away from my sons! Fred, George get over her NOW!" she screamed with a hysterical note in her voice. Before Harry could respond with some choice words he had on the tip of his tongue, Mr Ollivander interrupted.

"Let's get you a wand shall we? Well come on, step up here." Harry did as he was bid, eyeing the Weasely woman warily. He didn't like the way her hand was edging towards a fold in her robes, doubtless concealing her own wand. When he returned his attention to Mr Ollivander, the tape measure had dropped to the floor and the man was returning from between two shelves with a high stack of thin boxes in his hands.

"Let me see, let me see. Elm and Dragon heartstring. 9 inches, pliable, good for charms." Harry took the wand, and at the encouragement of Mr Ollivander swished it through the air.

Nothing Happened.

Mr Ollivander smiled at this, and opened another box. "11 inches, Unicorn hair and oak. Swishy, also good for charms." Harry waved this one and Mr Ollivander yelped as the hem of his cloak caught fire. "No" he cried, hastily waving his wand over the flames, restoring the cloak as though the fire had never existed.

"Dragon Heartstring and Willow, 10 ¼ inches. Excellent for defensive magic." Again nothing.

After 10 minutes of failed wands, Harry was beyond frustrated. However Mr Ollivander appeared to be having a wonderful time. "Tricky customer hmm, well let me see, let me see, when you do accidental magic, has it ever been partial to a particular element?" Harry thought back,

"Well, I can make a room very cold when I'm angry, and if I concentrate I can set things on fire." He saw Mrs Weasely look faint. But Ollivander nodded a few times.

"Hmm, fire and air. Okay" his hands dithered over the remaining pile of wands before him, before discarding half the boxes. "And your magic, does it normally affect a specific object or the general environment?"

"Both really." Harry replied

"Neither one is more frequent?" Asked the wand maker, Harry shook his head. A dozen more wands were discarded from the pile until just three were left. The first wand was a disaster, smashing a vase on the counter.

The second wand produced no discernable result, and Harry looked down at the third nervously.

"Phoenix tail feather and yew. 12 ½ inches, unyielding, excellent for offensive spells." Harry picked up the wand and immediately felt a warm feeling surge travel up his arm, blue and black sparks flew from the tip and he laughed, exhilarated beyond belief. Mr Ollivander looked at him curiously.

"Curious, but not surprising I suppose, look after your wand, do not feel pressured into any path. Make your own destiny. The wand is 11 Galleons please." Harry ignored the old man's parting words and left the sum on the counter. His money bag now almost empty, he pocketed it and left the Stale shop.

September the first dawned like any other, and for most, life in the orphanage carried on as normal. For one particular eleven year old however the day was anything but normal. Harry woke before his alarm with a smile on his face.

He wasn't naïve, he knew there would be a faction that would hate him, but Harry was brilliant. He would figure something out, he always did. His heavy trunk was packed to the seams with clothes, books and the few personal possessions he owned. As he slipped out from between the coarse cotton sheets he shivered.

He had left the window open the night before and the cold September air had left the entire room frigid. Harry sighed, slipping his feet into a pair of comfortable shoes before picking up a toothbrush and his other essentials. No one else was in the bathroom when he arrived and for this he was grateful. He didn't enjoy the communal aspect of his living. He was one of the few children who possessed a single room, no other student wanted him near whilst they slept. Harry smirked, it hadn't taken long to teach the students respect.

When he reached the dining room for breakfast the other students had already arrived. Harry sat alone as usual and tucked into a meal of toast and scrambled eggs. The room was loud around him, but the raven haired wizard tuned out the noise. His eyes were on the large clock on the wall in front of him, as he waited for the minutes to tick away. He sat still glaring at the clock for over an hour, before eventually the clock reached 9.30. He stood, his stiff joints creaking. Mrs Phelps helped him carry the trunk into a waiting taxi and gave him his allowance.

Harry wasn't an idiot, he knew the woman, hell most of the occupants of the orphanage would be delighted he was going. Except Cecil he mused to himself, he briefly wondered if he should say goodbye to the bye, but dismissed the thought quickly, Cecil meant little to him, he would not waste his time with people who were going anywhere. The Cab pulled away, heading towards the nation's capital.

The taxi pulled into the busy station and assisted Harry shifting his trunk to one of the trolleys, the man gave him a smile, assured him that Mrs Phelps had already settled his bill and drove away. Leaving Harry before the large stone building. He pulled the crumpled parchment with instructions out of his pocket and pushed his trolley forward.

"platform 5, platform 6, 7, 8 and 9" Harry stood still for a moment, the barrier before looked very solid and Harry was hardly prepared to rush into a potentially embarrassing situation. Slowly he pushed the trolley forward until it was an inch from the barrier. He paused again, pulling the instructions from his pocket again, he was just rereading it when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I don't mean to hurry you lad, but there is a queue you know, the train leaves in 20 minutes, I'd rather like my boy to be on it." Harry flushed slightly, turning around he saw he did indeed have a queue of disgruntled looking children and amused parents behind him, he forced out an apology, closed his eyes and took a step forward. Then another, then another. When nothing stopped him he carried on forward opening his eyes, inside the barrier it was very dark, but a few steps later he came out on the other side.

The platform was long, and decorated elegantly with stone carvings. The track looked old in design, but the magnificent scarlet train upon them looked brand new, steam was slowly issuing from the chimney at the front, whilst hundreds of children were scurrying around. Parents tearfully hugged children, and hefted trunks up the steps to a carriage, meanwhile attempting to dodge the veritable menagerie of cats, rats, owls and many other pets who were present.

Harry took all this in quickly, before he pulled his hood up to mask his face and lugging the trunk forwards. He reached the penultimate carriage and bent his knees to try and get his belongings up the steps.

It was a futile effort, the trunk was barely leaving the ground. Harry pulled again and would have slipped and fallen if not for a hand reaching out and grabbing the strap on the trunk. Together he and his saviour successfully manhandled the case onto the carriage, he turned to thank the man who'd helped him out, it was the man who'd spoken to him at the barrier.

"Thank you sir." He said respectfully, the man smiled kindly,

"No problem lad, the names Amos Diggory, is this your first year?" Harry nodded and Amos pulled his son forward,

"This is my boy, Cedric, he's starting his first year too. Are you a Muggleborn?" The question surprised Harry, but he shook his head,

"Halfblooded sir. But my parents are um, away" He prayed the man would leave him alone and luck was evidently with him that day.

"Sad, well why don't you and Ced find a compartment, the train leaves in five minutes." He gave Harry another wave before helping his son with his trunk.

"Good, Ced, write often, you know how your mother gets, she will expect constant information, don't leave her wanting alright lad!" Cedric laughed and then the two new first years moved their trunks into a compartment,

"What's your name then?" asked Cedric curiously, Harry still had his hood slightly up. He imagined no one would know what he looked like, but he would cross that hurdle when it came up.

"Harry, your Cedric Right?"

"Cedric Diggory, at your service" Cedric gave a short bow and Harry gave a small smile.

"Have we met before Harry? Your face is familiar…" Harry shook his head,

"I doubt it, I grew up on a muggle orphanage. I only discovered magic in July." The Wizard opposite him whistled.

"That must have been a surprise!" Harry shook his head ruefully.

"That day was full of surprises. Learning about magic was almost a small sidenote" Cedric peered at him slightly confused. But his eyes cleared shortly. Trusting Harry thought, But kind.

"So, have you read all your school books?" Cedric asked. Harry nodded,

"All bar the astronomy one, I just wish I had more books. I feel very much unprepared for this world. I know nothing of the politics customs or anything. I am afraid I may look a fool!" Cedric nodded understandingly.

"It must be weird. Did you not get books on the subject?" Harry sighed, shaking his head.

"Sadly the Hogwarts Bursary fund does not contain much in the way of extra spending money."

They spent the next hour or two speaking in relative comfort, a few people poked their heads in the door, but no one stayed, Harry got a few lingering looks, mostly by the upper years, but no one said anything.

Around Lunchtime, An elderly lady pushed open their door.

"Anything from the trolley dears?" she asked kindly, Harry eyed the trolley, it was filled with a combination of bizarre looking sweets and cakes, and a selection of sandwiches.

"What could I get for…" he emptied his money bag into his hand, it was a pitifully small pile, and the witch sighed,

"Not much I'm afraid dear" Harrys chin rose, and he glared at the seat opposite. Putting his money pouch back in his pocket, he forced a smile to the trolley lady and sat back in his seat.

"I'll get two ham and mustard sandwiches and two pumpkin juices please" Cedric spoke up from next to him, Harry eyed him in shock as he pulled a bulging pouch from the pocket of his jeans.

"Here you go Harry, have you had pumpkin juice before?" Harry shook his head dumbly. Nobody had ever bought him anything before. Except Cecil, and he barely counted as human in Harrys eyes, the wretch.

"It's good, they sweeten it a lot when you get it bottled, but homemade always tastes better. My Mum always makes litres every year and then leaves it in stasis." Harry took a sip of the orange liquid.

"It's different" Harry spoke carefully. "It is quite sweet though" Cedric had been watching him closely.

"Like I said, not as good as Homemade, but drinkable." Harry nodded and smiled.

"Cedric, there's something I have to tell you." He paused. "You're the first person who I would say is my friend, I barely know you, but you seem like great guy." Cedric looked at him confused,

"You didn't have friends at the orphanage?" He asked slowly.

"No, not really, but that isn't the point of this. Ced, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but you should know, I'm Harry Potter. My father was James Potter." Cedric recoiled and Harry's chin rose defensively. "I am not ashamed of my Father. I don't remember him."

Cedric said nothing, only looking at him slightly cautiously. His eyes flickered to the door of the compartment before returning to Harry's. He took a deep breath. Harry squared his small shoulders.

"I don't hate you for this Harry, I'm slightly concerned. But surely an eleven year old who doesn't know his parents cannot be judged for his Fathers acts?" He shook his head. Before a small smile crossed his lips and he stuck out his right hand.

"I'm Cedric Diggory, Pleasure to meet you." Harrys chin rose and he released the breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

"Harry Potter, the pleasure is mine." They shook hands and Harry allowed himself to relax. He took a deep breath. It had been a risk telling Cedric, one of the few times in his life he made a decision without considering every outcome. He cursed himself for being in such a vulnerable position.

"So, what do you know of Hogwarts Harry?" Cedric asked, Harry laughed.

"Subtle Ced, but thanks. Next to nothing really. I read the letter they give to new students and the first couple of chapters of Hogwarts: A History in Diagon Alley. But that only covered the founding of it."

"Well then, allow me to begin your education of the Wizarding world." He sat back in his seat and looked out of the window before continuing. "The four school houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. I don't know how each student is chosen for their house, but It's something to do with personality."

"Gryffindor's are supposedly the Brave self-sacrificing ones, Ravenclaws are the smart students, Hufflepuff is the Loyal House, where hard work and loyalty is chosen, and Slytherin is for the ambitious and cunning."

Harry nodded slowly, processing the information. From what Cedric said, he would fit into Slytherin best, he was neither obsessed with book learning, heroic and brave and he certainly wasn't loyal. "How many students are at Hogwarts?" he asked

"I'm not sure, several hundred though, I guess we find out when we get there."

"And does the school play uh… Quidditch?" Cedric laughed

"Yeah, there's an inter house cup each year, and any student can try out." His eyes had lit up as he spoke about the sport.

"You play?" Harry asked,

"Seeker." Cedric confirmed, at Harry's puzzled look Cedric began to launch into a full description of the game. After that it moved onto the British Quidditch league, and then onto the international circuit, Harry paid close attention, absorbing all the knowledge he could about this new world. Eventually Cedric seemed to run out of things to say and fell silent.

"I'm impressed Ced, 90 minutes of pure talking. That was interesting, thanks." Cedric beamed at him, still riding his Quidditch high.

"Do you know any of the teachers at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, Cedric nodded his head.

"Well McGonagall teaches transfiguration, Dad says she's really strict, but fair to all students. Then there is Professor Sprout, she teaches Herbology, she's a friend of my parents, and shes really nice. Just don't mess up her plants!" Harry Laughed as the lecture went on.

As it grew dark outside and the yellowed gas lamps in the compartment lit up, the two boys changed from their normal, Muggle Harry corrected himself, clothes into the Robes of their uniform.

The rest of the journey passed in companionable conversation. Around 7 in the evening, the train pulled into a dark platform, there was a little drizzle falling outside, but nothing serious. The two boys got off the train and stood on the platform looking around.

"Firs' Years. Firs' years Over 'ere!" Came a great booming voice, halfway up the platform stood a giant of a man, at least 12 feet tall, in his hand was a bright lantern. Harry looked at Cedric.

"That must be Hagrid, the Game Keeper, Merlin, he's enormous!" Cedric said awed. The two boys joined the rapidly growing crowd of terrified looking first year around the Giant.

"Right, I think tha's all of Yeh's. Now Follow Me." He led down down a winding path to a vast lake.

"No More n' four to a boat. Hop in!" They all got into the boats, Harry and Cedric ended up with a girl with long brown hair and a boy tall blonde boy.

The fleet of rowboats suddenly started forward, gliding noiselessly through the water towards the enormous brightly lit castle ahead.

After arriving at a dock, and unloading the first years were transferred to the custody of Professor McGonagall. She led them through a vast entrance hall, just as big as the hall at Gringotts, this one was lit by thousands of floating candles that hovered just over their heads.

"In a moment you shall all be sorted" Began Professor McGonagall, "There are four houses to go to, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and whilst you are at Hogwarts they will be like your family. Good deeds or excellent work in class will gain you house points, whereas any rule breaking with lose points." The first years listened intently.

"I suggest you smarten up. I will return in a minute and when I do, we shall go into the great hall." She left and Harry listened as the children around him discussed theories on the sorting process. There were many outlandish theories, such as entrance exams, or fighting other students.

Before too long, McGonagall returned. She stood at the front of the mass of first and pushed open the great doors.

The room beyond was spectacular, it must have been 60 feet high, but it was impossible to be accurate due to the ceiling looking just like the overcast sky outside. This room too was lit by hundreds of bright candles floating above their heads. At the far end was a long table, where Harry saw the staff assembled, in the middle of this table sat an ancient looking wizard with bright blue eyes, resting upon a magnificent golden throne.

Arrayed before the teachers were four long tables, filled with the students. Arranged Harry assumed by house. At the head of the line McGonagall had placed a patched and frayed hat on a three legged stool. Harry stared at the Hat non plussed, until a rip near the brim opened up and the hat began to sing.

Harry tuned out the words, but clapped with the others when it was over. McGonagall unrolled a sheaf of parchment, and spoke.

"When I call your name you will come forward, sit on the stool and put the hat on your head." She cleared her throat,

"Atley, William" A nervous boy stepped forward and the hat fell over his eyes.

"Ravenclaw!" the hat shouted out, and the blue and bronze dressed table burst into applause. This continued, for a while, Bole went to Slytherin, whilst Bradley went to Ravenclaw. Clearwater went to Ravenclaw, whilst Cedric was sorted into Hufflepuff, Harry zoned out for a while and when his attention returned it was to hear Ogden, Frederick get sorted into Ravenclaw.

"Potter, Harry" Called out McGonagall, the mutters and whispered conversations around the hall ended abruptly. The silence was deafening, and when Harry started to walk towards the stool, he heard one of the Gryffindor's next to him loudly whisper "Potter? Is he the traitors son?" Harry's jaw tightened, but he kept his head held high and strode confidently to the stool.

He sat, back ramrod straight, and the last thing he saw before the hat covered his eyes was the hostile looks being directed at him.

"Interesting, you have a wonderful mind Mr Potter" Came a deep rich voice in his ear. "Lots of Talent, goodness yes, and dear me, you certainly won't fit in Helga's house, you would sell your own soul if it got you what you wanted." Harry was about to retort, before realising that arguing with a hat would be stupid.

"Now then, you're brave, but not reckless, vicious and ruthless but not cruel, very intelligent and driven, but don't seek knowledge for its own sake. Tricky. You analyse everything in a way I have never seen before, not in all my thousand years. I must say this is interesting, It's extremely evident where you belong, Merlin forbid I sent you anywhere other than SLYTHERIN!"

This last word was shouted to the whole hall, but unlike the others, this was not met with cheers, one lone boy at the Slytherin table cheered, but the sound seemed hollow and he stopped quickly.

Head held high, and face entirely blank, Harry stepped towards the table of Green and Silver.

End of Chapter 1

Feedback is always wanted, give me your thoughts, opinions where you think this story should go, etc.
This is a story I've always wanted to read, but haven't quite found anywhere, so I decided to write it!
I haven't got the whole story planned out yet really, just a series of scenes in my head, so I would love any ideas you have!

Yours

MarshallAngmar