A/N: Ok, ::takes in a very deep breath and stares at screen:: here's the deal.
AHHHH! School! School! Oh, the woes of having school! ::screams and bangs head on desk:: I'm sorry if the first chapter disappointed you, blame school... I really wanted to get something up, so I typed that and posted. I guess it was necessary, though. ::calms down:: Sorry, but I promise some INTERESTING things happen in this chapter... towards the end, so pay attention.
Uhh, now, I'm working on this AND LOtFP. So, now I'll be working on chapter 3 of that story. As result, you won't see chapter 4 of this for a while... it depends. National Art Honors Society has me painting stupid ADS on the baseball field WALL after school in the HOT SUN for THREE HOURS! So, that takes up precious WRITING TIME! You may blame that too. Let's not forget the one word that makes me cringe.
Homecoming.
I won't ellaborate on that, other than that it's next week.
::sighs:: I really do hope that you like this chapter, please tell me by leaving a review. All of you are ever so peachy for doing so, luvs yeh all!
I'll stop blabbering now and let you read. ::moves out of the way for you to read::
DISCLAIMER: See Orca. See Orca type. See HP book. See JK's name. See Orca disclaim rights to the Potter name and affiliates. See Orca claim Timothy and all the other people that she made up. See Orca slap those who try to sue her.
Chapter Two: The Journey to Hogwarts
Time seemed to speed up so fast to Timothy that the night before he was to ride the Hogwarts Express came before he knew it. He had spent the last few weeks of the summer listening to stories about Hogwarts from everyone he knew that went there. While each story was fascinating, especially the ones his great-uncle would tell about his grandfather's adventures in the great castle, Timothy found that the most intriguing and exciting stories came from his parents. His father had been telling him all about what had happened to him at Hogwarts for years, and Timothy knew every detail by heart. He would stare up at his father's scar as he would sit on his bed and explain about the mysterious Mirror of Erised and what happened in the Chamber of Secrets. Timothy would dream about all those things, but when he would tell his father he would only sigh and say that all those things are no longer there, lost in the fire with the original castle. He would say that he would have his own adventures; the only thing that would be the same as before would be the layout of the castle. Up until then, Timothy couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts, but now as he was getting ready for bed for the last time in his own room, butterflies began to swarm his stomach.
"Can't see why you just could take me, and not that feather brain!" Muttered Jeff, the Jefforagon, who was sitting on the edge of Timothy's bed, eyeing the dark gray owl that was asleep in it's cage on Timothy's dresser. The little yellow dragon had been one of Timothy's closest companions since they met, when he was five years old. Jeff had helped his mother through a great ordeal she had to go through, in order to defeat the evil wizard known as Voldemort. Now he was a part of the family, and the wise-cracking dragon had always been there for Timothy.
"You know that dragons are not allowed in, or even near the castle!" Timothy told him for the one hundredth time. However, it hurt every time he said it, for he was going to miss Jeff more than he thought Jeff knew.
Jeff eyed him smugly, but the look didn't last. He was soon shaking his head sadly.
"I know, I know… it's just, well… who's gonna be there for you, huh? I don't think that over-grown canary there is gonna be much help!"
Timothy couldn't help but to giggle; Jeff did not get off to a good start with his new owl, Windstone. Apparently, Windstone is exceedingly picky, and is only the most affectionate for Timothy and no one else. While he acts polite to his parents, and even his little sister, the owl wants nothing to do with Jeff.
"Windstone's gonna deliver mail and stuff… it would be too hard for you to do that." Timothy pointed out. Jeff's mouth hung open to counter him, but he was a loss for words. Timothy laughed again and turned around to look back at his packed trunk. He sighed loudly, and sat down heavily on his bed. Looking up, he stared at the starry ceiling which the mural had changed to when the sun went down. A shooting star whizzed by, and the swirls of Jupiter blended silently as it turned magically.
The butterflies returned, as they had been for the past few days. Would he fit in at Hogwarts? Sure, his parents were world-famous and top graduates from there, but would he? Would everyone act the same way towards him there as they do on the streets? Following him where ever he would go, bugging him for autographs, squealing as he would come into sight? He turned on his stomach and stroked his worn-out, stuffed owl.
Would he make friends that would like him for who he really is, and not for his name?
Jeff came and walked casually on top of Timothy's back, like he would usually do when he knew that he was troubled. He sat down and twirled his long, purple tentacle tipped tail around Timothy's head, his own elongated snout towards Timothy's feet, wearing a considering expression. Timothy looked over and smiled a little, feeling a tug at his heart, for he missed his dragon friend already.
"You may be famous, bright eyes, but only for your name. What you need to do when you get to that school is let everyone see you for who you really are, and not as the shadow of your parent's achievements. You must make your own." Jeff said with a deep, wise voice that he rarely spoke with, but when he did you knew he was serious.
Timothy grimaced and closed his eyes; Jeff knew what he had been thinking for a long time. He shook his head.
"How, Jeff? Everyone's gonna expect me to be exactly like mum and dad, but how could I possibly be able to do what my parents did?"
Jeff began to tap Timothy's head with his tail to the point where he got annoyed and swatted at it.
"Oh, don't be silly. You'll have your own adventures there, what your parents did is in the past, and won't be able to be repeated again… not by anyone, not even themselves. Now it's your turn!"
Timothy was about to argue, twisting his body to face Jeff, when there was a soft knock at the door.
"Bedtime, sweetheart." It was his mother, her long brown hair highlighted by the candle in the hallway. "You're gonna have a long day tomorrow, so you need your rest."
With a loud sigh, Timothy faced the wall next to his bed quickly, rubbing his messy black hair absentmindedly.
"Say goodnight, Jeff." His mother said to the yellow dragon, who gave a puff of smoke and sauntered off of Timothy's back.
"Goodnight, Jeff." He pouted, jumping to the ground. Timothy tried to stifle a giggle, always loving it when he said that. However, he frowned slowly as he turned around to see his friend beginning to leave his room.
"'Night, Jeff. I'll see you tomorrow, won't I? Before I go?"
Jeff turned and gave him his toothy grin.
"You think I'd let you go off without my lecture? I think not! Better prepare for it, I plan to snap at your heels before you walk out that door tomorrow morning!"
"Oh, boy." Both Timothy and his mother said in union. Jeff left and Timothy's gaze met his mother's. Her big blue eyes were warm and kind in the low light of his room.
"So, all ready and set to go?" She asked him, pulling back the covers of his bed. He didn't answer, just nodded solemnly as he glanced back at his packed trunk. A soft coo from his dresser reminded him of his owl, asleep and dreaming in his cage. His mother finished with the sheets and was looking at Timothy curiously.
"Alright, honey? Nervous?"
Again, Timothy didn't answer, but nodded his head so slightly that his mother leaned in closer to get a better look at his eyes. He tried to hide his fear, but his mother had a sixth sense at knowing what he was feeling. She put on a sad smile and brought him into her arms, stroking his black hair gently.
"Don't worry, Timothy. It's normal to feel this way, and I know you feel even worse… knowing who you are and all." She brought his chin up to look into his eyes, and he found himself staring into hers, finding comfort there. "But don't let it get to your head. You are Timothy, and don't let people's expectations of you change who you really are inside."
"Everything alright?"
Timothy drew back a little to see his father coming into the room, wearing a smile but showing concern in his green eyes behind his black glasses. His hair was just as wild as Timothy's, and he could partially see the lightning bolt shaped scar that he had had since he was a baby.
He came over to them and drew them all into his own embrace.
"Well, I knew tomorrow had to come, but I didn't know it would come so soon." He muttered.
Silence ensued, the three of them holding each other in the dim light of Timothy's bedroom, the painted magical ceiling above moving about it's business. Kalina had already gone to bed, and Timothy felt jealous of her, not for the first time. She would stay with their parents, and Timothy wouldn't see them at all until Christmas. He had never been away from his family for that long.
"Come now," His mother finally said, breaking them apart and leading Timothy's arm to his bed. "Bedtime."
Timothy climbed under the sheets and reluctantly laid his head on the pillow. His parents smiled down at him, exactly the same way they did nearly every night of his life. He felt tears threatening to push through his eyes, but he fought them.
"Don't worry, you'll be having so much fun at Hogwarts that you'll forget about being homesick. We'll be together for Christmas and Easter, then there's summer vacation." His mother said to him soothingly, brushing away his bangs. Her hand caught his eye in the light, and he could see the old burn scar on her palm. A few years ago, she told him how she had gotten it, how when she was being held captive by Voldemort that her wand was hexed to burn to the touch if she tried to retrieve it. It was a story he liked to hear, for in the end his father had come to save her life.
She kissed his forehead gently, with a small smile. Timothy smiled back weakly, then looked to his father. He was looking at his mother and she nodded, leaving the room.
"I'll see you in the morning, Timothy. Love you."
"Love you too, mum… g'night." He replied. She left the door open a crack as his father blew out the candles on the walls with his wand. Then he looked back at Timothy and sat beside him in bed.
"Dad?" Timothy asked, pulling out his stuffed owls from the depths of his sheets. "How did you feel, the night before you first went to Hogwarts."
His father sighed deeply, looking away for a moment. To Timothy, he seemed so powerful and tall, the only other person he admired just as much was his mother. His black, messy hair seemed even darker in the absence of light, and the light that did trickle in from the hallway reflected off his round glasses.
"I've told you how it was like for me to grow up; it wasn't fun. For my entire life until then, I thought of myself as alone and worth nothing. When I found out about who my parents really were, and that I was a wizard, well… I couldn't wait to get out of there! When I was were you are now, there was nothing I wanted more than to be off to that mysterious castle." He looked directly at Timothy, with a sad smile.
"However, you, Timothy, have grown up in a loving family who cares for you very much. I never had that. So, I would assume that what you're feeling now would be that of great apprehension and nervousness. But like your mother said, that's normal. It'll be alright, trust me."
Timothy nodded, closing his eyes as his father ruffled his hair. He then patted his shoulder and Timothy threw his arms around him, and they stayed in a hug for several minutes before his father kissed him goodnight as well and began to leave. He watched intently as he saw the last of his great father, closing the door to let the only light shine from the painted stars and planets on the ceiling. A soft contented hoot came from Windstone, and Timothy tried to push his worries away, and fell asleep.
Everything the next morning was a blur, up until he found himself standing beside his parents at the newly renovated King's Cross train station in London. Kalina looked around curiously as their mother led them past groups of muggles, their father pushing Timothy's trunk and things along with a cart. People stared as they went past, however, not with awe and surprise as they usually got. Timothy and Kalina were nearly the only ones wearing anything close to muggle clothes. Their parents were wearing their wizarding robes, yet they paid no attention to any of looks as the four of them came up to a wall separating platforms 9 and 10.
"Where's platform 9 and 3/4?" Timothy asked, looking at his parents with puzzlement.
His father grinned, almost mischievously.
"Watch me, I'll go first."
Timothy stared suspiciously as his father steadied the cart and began a brisk walk towards the wall. It did not look like he was going to walk around it, it looked like he was going to hit it! Timothy's mouth gaped open and he stepped forward to lunge at his father and warn him to stop. But his mother held him back with a smile and whispered,
"Watch."
Kalina looked just as nervous, and the two siblings let out a loud gasp when their father simply disappeared through the wall!
"What the…?"
"How did daddy…?"
"You next, Timothy." Their mother said cheerfully, giving him a little nudge in the back. He looked back and up at her with part confusion, part skepticism.
"Just do what your dad did, honey. Don't be afraid, otherwise you will hit the wall." She reassured him.
Slowly looking away from her and taking a long swallow, Timothy started to walk towards the wall. There were no muggles around, just the barrier in front of him. He made another look back at his mother and sister, who was staring at him with an astonished face. His mother smiled and nodded for him to go on, and before he knew it… he was no longer looking at his mother and sister, he was looking at a solid wall.
"Hey, see… you made it!"
Timothy turned to see the smiling face of his father, messy black hair and all. His trunk and Windstone stood off to the side, and he heard a loud train whistle go off. Jaw dropping once again, Timothy saw a large, scarlet colored train. One the side were golden letters bearing "Hogwarts Express". Children his age and older were waving goodbye out of windows, others were loading trunks into compartments. Hoots, chirps, and loud meows sounded from every direction as magical families darted here and there to get to where they needed to go.
"Wow!" Timothy shouted as his father put a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, his mother and sister appeared at his side. Kalina looked ecstatic, her eyes wide and her long dark brown hair billowing with gusts of wind that blew through the station.
"Oh, I want to go too! Mum! I want to go with Timothy!"
Both their parents laughed, shaking their heads.
"We better move out of the way before someone walks into us." His father said, taking Timothy by the shoulder and walking out from the shadows. The cart with his trunk and Windstone magically began to follow them.
It was then that loud gasps, stares, and shouts of awe rang out as Timothy and his family began to walk down by the train.
"Could it be?"
"Yes, it is!"
"The Potters!"
"Little Timothy must be starting this year."
"Oh, I can't believe it! Harry and Renee Potter!"
"I feel flush!"
Timothy sighed, leaning closer to his father and looked up at him. Behind his round black glasses, same as Timothy's, his father's green eyes were set and determined to ignore the familiar praise.
"This looks like a good spot," His father suddenly stopped in front of one compartment on the train that was somewhat out of the way. "This is where your Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, mum, and I sat. I sat here on my first trip, and so shall you."
Timothy stared up at the window, which was empty of people. At least he wouldn't start out being gawked at for the whole trip to Hogwarts. With a wave of his wand, his father sent his trunk and Windstone into the compartment. When it was settled, his father turned to face him and the rest of the family.
"Well, now… I think you should get going. Better settle in, it's a long ride to Hogwarts." He said dryly, wringing his wand in his hands. Timothy looked at his mother, who was absentmindedly playing with Kalina's hair. His sister looked hopelessly jealous, eyeing her brother.
His father cleared his throat loudly, then suddenly pulled Timothy to the side. He knelt down to his eye level, and the two of them stared.
"I have something for you," His father whispered. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a very, very old looking piece of parchment. It was completely blank, and yet his father stared at it with nearly a tear in his eye. "This belonged to your grandfather, he and his friends made this when he went to Hogwarts. It was passed down to me, and now I pass it on to you."
Taking the worn parchment in his hand, Timothy stared at it blankly.
"It's just a plain piece of parchment, dad, what is it?"
"Harry, what are you doing? He needs to get on the train now!" His mother called over their shoulders.
"Just one minute, Renee!" He called back. Looking back at Timothy, there was a large, mischievous grin on his face. Timothy couldn't help but to grin back.
"What does it do, dad?" He asked eagerly.
"When you get to Hogwarts, and when you're alone, mind you… take your wand and tap the parchment and say 'I solemnly swear, I am up to no good'." He looked over Timothy's shoulder quickly, and hastily added: "To clear it, tap it again and say 'mischief managed'."
"What is it?" Timothy looked at the parchment with newfound curiosity.
"You'll see!" His father winked, then stood up, pulling Timothy back towards the train. Kalina pulled away from their mother and ran to their father.
"What did you two do?" She asked as he picked her up.
"Yes, Harry, what did you do?" Their mother had a suspicious look on her face, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. Timothy was still staring at the blank parchment when his mother pulled him into a ferocious hug, nearly knocking the wind out of him.
"You be good now. I don't know what your father talked to you about, but keep your head and stay out of trouble." She said sternly, fixing his hair as she allowed himself to pull away. He fixed his glasses and looked at Kalina. She took in a big breath and held it, then when their eyes locked she burst into tears and leapt into his arms, making his own eyes go wide.
"I want to go with you!" She wailed. Timothy looked up at their mother and while smiling, she pulled her back.
"Oh, don't cry, Kalina! I'll be sending you and mum and dad letters with Windstone… then I'll see you at Christmas!" He said as calmly as he could, fighting his fear of leaving.
The train whistle blew loudly twice, and people began to run onto the train. Timothy ran his hand through his hair nervously.
"Time to go, Timothy. Up you go." His father needlessly picked him up and placed him on the stairs leading inside the compartment. They looked at each other and fell into one last, long hug. Then the whistle blew again, and the train began to lurch into life. With a weak wave, Timothy climbed inside and sat next to the window. Both his parents, and a tearing Kalina were waving to him… and he could see his parents crying too. To see them that way, he couldn't help but let a tear slip as well, as the train began to move. He suddenly, for the first time in his life, felt completely alone. His head fell against the window, and the train left the station, his family fading out of view.
"Excuse me, mind if I sit in here with you?" Said a voice.
Timothy turned to see a boy his age and height, with shaggy black hair and gray eyes. The boy had his trunk dragging behind him in the doorway, and he suddenly dropped it as their eyes locked.
"It's you! Timothy Potter!"
Timothy stopped himself from rolling his eyes, instead giving a slight nod and a small: "Yes."
The boy hastily dragged his trunk fully inside and stowed it away, quickly sitting down close to Timothy and staring at him happily, his gray eyes bright.
"Remember me? From a few years ago, back at Hogwarts when it was officially declared open? It's me! Darian Hall!"
Timothy studied his face for a moment, and then the memory came back to him. His face split into just as happy a smile.
"Oh, yes! We went around the castle together, I remember now!"
They both erupted into spirited giggles as they exchanged the usual conversation. How they'd been, what they'd done; stuff like that. Timothy's apprehension was forgotten as they chatted for up to an hour.
"My mom left for Hogwarts a week ago," Darian said casually. "Can't wait to see her again."
Timothy nodded, trying not to dwell on his own mother. He wouldn't see her at all until Christmas.
"So!" Darian cheered. "What house do you think you'll be in?"
"My parents were in Gryffindor. Everyone thinks I'll be in it, but… I'm not too sure." Timothy mumbled, looking away. Darian looked at him intently.
"Why aren't you sure? Of course you'd be in Gryffindor!"
Timothy shrugged and didn't answer. For as long as he'd known about the Hogwarts houses and what they stood for, knowing that his parents fit perfectly into the Gryffindor house, he was sure he'd be sorted there as well. However, lately, he hadn't been feeling all that brave… and wasn't so sure any more as he had when he was five years old.
"I think I would fit into Ravenclaw, my dad was a Hufflepuff though. I don't think I'd be sorted there, both my parents have told me that I don't listen to them half the time." Darian grinned. "That I agree with. Or even Gryffindor! That would cool to be in the same house as you!"
Timothy looked back at him and smiled. That thought made him feel better, but he still had doubts. He was about to voice this, when a loud crash from outside their compartment made both their heads snap to attention.
"Hah! Get out, skinny!"
"Yeah!"
Timothy and Darian looked at each other with puzzled looks. With a concern look in his eyes, Timothy stood up and went to the compartment door. He opened it and the laughter from other compartments became loud and clear. Sticking his head out further with Darian coming to look over his shoulder, Timothy looked up and down the walkway, seeing other people looking out too. He ignored their turned attention to him, and focused on a tall figure lumbering towards his compartment.
"Who's that?" Darian whispered in Timothy's ear. He just shrugged as the figure, a tall and skinny boy, came clearer into view. His face was red with embarrassment, sweat making long and shaggy brown hair stick to his forehead. People snickered and pointed as he walked past, and Timothy couldn't help but to feel sorry. He looked over his shoulder at Darian, who was wearing a similar expression.
"Let's ask him to sit with us, he can't be that bad." He whispered.
Timothy nodded and turned to the boy, who was just about to reach them, his face staring at the floor as he drug his trunk behind him.
"Hey!" Timothy called out as friendly as he could. The boy didn't look up, but continued his way down the walkway. He nearly came next to them before Timothy tried again. "Hello, need a place to sit?"
The boy slowly looked upward, red hazel eyes tired and shy. He straightened up more, and Timothy gulped, as this boy's height was at least a handful of inches higher than both him and Darian.
"You're asking me to… sit with you?" The boy asked quietly, astonished.
Both Timothy and Darian nodded. Darian inched out to grab the boy's trunk. Timothy smiled warily and motioned for the boy to come in. With an uncertain look, and a glance back at where he came from where people were staring incredulously, the boy obliged. Ignoring the looks he was getting, Timothy helped Darian with the trunk and closed the door behind them. The boy stared at them with puzzlement and relief as they stowed it away with their own. When they sat down across from them, there was an awkward silence. The boy, even sitting, was taller than the two of them… and he was deathly skinny. His arms and legs were long and gangly, a thin face with his shaggy pale-brown hair. The long sleeved shirt he wore was old looking, and it swam around him; his blue jeans were tattered in some places and just as worn. Timothy tried not to stare, and his gaze met Darian's as they both were trying to avoid the same thing… adding to this boy's unfortunate situation.
"Er…" Timothy ran a hand through his black hair, fiddling with his glasses as well. "My name's Timothy Potter, and this is Darian Hall. What's yours?"
The boy shifted in his seat, looking away and back again nervously.
"John. John Stanton." He nearly whispered, his voice small for such a tall boy.
"Well, John… why was everyone laughing at you?" Timothy asked as politely and nonchalantly as he could. Darian nodded.
"Yeah, why'd you have to move?"
John flushed deeply and stared back down at his feet, his large hands wringing each other tightly. He shrugged after a moment, but Timothy and Darian kept looking at him intently for an answer.
"If I told you, you'd laugh too." He whispered simply.
Timothy immediately shook his head.
"No I wouldn't." Darian shook his head.
John suddenly laughed silently, rocking back to lean against the bench. He shook his own head, his hair flinging into his eyes, which he brushed away.
"Everyone makes fun of me, why wouldn't you? And you," He looked directly at Timothy. "You're mum and dad are Harry and Renee Potter, you're famous… why would you care?"
Darian looked at Timothy, who had blushed himself. Timothy's eyes narrowed behind his glasses at John.
"Just because I'm famous doesn't mean I don't care about things. I don't like to be picked on just as much as anyone else."
"Who would make fun of you? You're a Potter, everyone admires you and your parents. Me? I'm taller than anyone else my age, skinny, weak… and… shy. More than one reason to pick on me."
Before Timothy could say anything, Darian spoke up.
"So what? I could care less what you look like, as long as you're a good person. Anyone who makes fun of anyone for just what they look like, is stupid! I don't consider myself like that, and I really don't think Timothy is either."
Both John and Timothy stared at him. Darian put on a wise look, but couldn't help but blush. Then, just as suddenly, all three of them began to laugh.
"Sorry." Darian said, sheepishly scratching his head.
John looked more at ease.
"So, you really don't care about how I look and all?" His small voice did not fit him, but it was more confident.
"Don't be silly," Timothy continued to laugh. "I could care less about that."
"Funny, I thought that someone of your representation would, Timothy Potter."
The laughter stopped as abruptly as it had started. All three of them realized that the compartment door was open, and standing in the doorway was a girl. She stood tall, slender and healthy looking, with short blonde hair and cream colored skin. Her arms were crossed and her expression wore a cocky sneer.
Timothy immediately did not like this girl.
"Who are you?" Timothy asked.
The girl opened her sly mouth to answer, when she suddenly stumbled forward. Her eyes narrowed in outrage as she turned around to reveal a boy, with spiky blonde hair and pale skin, cowering before her.
"Sean! You idiot! Watch what you're doing!" She screeched, her voice so high in pitch that Timothy cringed at the noise.
The boy that was Sean winced and nodded. He was just as tall as she was, and yet he cowered before her as if she were ten feet taller. Timothy noticed that Darian was trying to keep himself from laughing, and John looked slightly afraid.
"Now then, what were we… oh yes! That's right. My name is Carla Haughton. The blundering idiot behind me is my brother, Sean." She pointed behind her, Sean doing and saying nothing but looking at his sister with tense apprehension.
"Are both of you… first years?" Darian asked cautiously.
Carla narrowed her blue eyes, which were not like Timothy's at all, but ice cold and menacing.
"Yes," She said with her nose in the air and a cold sneer. "I am. Oh, yes, and my brother too." Carla's mouth upturned into a fake smile. "So looking forward to Hogwarts, we are. I hear it's built exactly like the old one, before it was burnt down by that evil wizard. What was his name? Oh, yes… Voldemort."
Timothy, and he could sense everyone else with him, took a nervous swallow at the mention of the name.
"Of course, our famous Mr. Potter's parents saved us all and killed the guy! So that we could all be here this day… going to school." Carla's narrowed gaze fell on top of Timothy, and he suddenly felt himself grow angry.
"That's right. My parents did kill him, and that was a long while ago. So, can we just move on?" He said coolly, eyeing Carla and her brother.
"Yeah, like yourselves for instance." Darian added; Timothy turned to look at him, as well as John, with amazement at his boldness towards someone who was obviously trouble.
Carla huffed, and Sean let out a whine like a lost dog.
"I'd watch that attitude… Mr.?"
"Hall. Darian Hall, and don't you forget it!"
She put on an amused grin, and put a hand on her brother's shoulder, making him jump slightly.
"Darian Hall. Heh, don't you worry, I won't forget you. Or your famous friend." She looked over at John for the first time and let out a snicker. "And look! It's our friend, Mr. Stanton, from further up the train! Why, I believe you've finally found your niche with these fools, John."
John turned beet red and sulked in his chair. Both Timothy and Darian stood up, anger surging through them.
"Watch it Carla, he's with us." Timothy said, more bravely then he felt.
Carla laughed, Sean staring at her. She paused momentarily with a furious look at him, and then he joined her in laughing with uncertainty.
"Well, it's obvious now!" She said between giggles. "You all go together perfectly!"
Sean was eyeing something behind her nervously in the hallway, and persisted to tap her shoulder. Her laughter died and Carla's face contorted with exasperation.
"What is it, Sean!" She leered at him.
"D'uh, someone's comm'n." He said blankly.
"What?" She snapped, leaning further in the hallway for a better look. Her expression fell and she sighed angrily. "Figures, it's that Prefect with the funny name again."
Timothy, Darian, and John exchanged glances, still feeling hot with anger towards this rather annoying girl.
Carla turned back at them and pointed with a long, slender finger.
"I'll be seeing you around, boys. C'mon, Sean, let's go."
She left and closed the compartment door behind her, Sean at silently at her heels. Timothy let out a sigh of relief, but the door opened up again no more than a few seconds after it had closed. A tall boy, muscular in built, with long red hair and blue-gray eyes, stood in the doorway with a powerful aura around him.
"What's going on in here?" He said in a smooth, commanding voice.
"Nothing." The three of them answered immediately.
The boy considered each of them in turn with an intense stare. When he looked at Timothy there was jolt in his eye and he gave what looked like a painful smile.
"Well, well… look, it's Timothy Potter. Nice to meet you. Your parent's are great magical people, wouldn't be here today if it weren't for them. Order of Merlin, First Class, right? Both of them? Figures, after what they've done."
Timothy said nothing, relaxing a little and rolling his eyes at the usual speech given to him by first meetings with people. He stared up politely at this boy, who must have been at least a few years older than all of them.
"And you are?" He nodded towards the boy.
The boy's face suddenly grew dark and he narrowed his eyes. Timothy shuddered and sighed, fearing that what had happened before with the first two acquaintances would repeat itself.
"I'm a Prefect; a Prefect for Gryffindor to be exact. I'm not to be crossed, even if you don't end up in my house. I know all of you are first years, I'm a sixth year." He crossed his arms. "You all may call me Smith."
Timothy said nothing, while both Darian and John nodded. Without another word, Smith left the compartment, slamming the door with a bang.
"Well, he obviously has issues." Darian muttered, turning back to Timothy and John.
"Glad he scared Carla away, though." John said in his small voice, still looking at his feet.
"I sure do hope I don't end up in the same house as her and her brother, or even Smith for that matter. He gives me the creeps." Timothy said.
"I heard people talking about him," John said, looking up at Timothy, his eyes wide with intensity. "People make fun of him all the time too. It's his first name."
"What's his first name?" Both Timothy and Darian asked at the same time, leaning closer to John.
"It's a really odd name," John's already small voice was lowered even more, making Timothy and Darian strain to hear him. "That's why I think he was so uptight when you asked him, Timothy. Before people turned to me in the compartment I was in before, they were talking about him. There was another sixth year in there with me, as well as some third and fourth years with their first year siblings. Anyway, his first name is Taku."
"Taku?" Both Timothy and Daian said in disbelief.
"What kind of a name is Taku?" Darian asked, scratching his head.
John shrugged.
"Who knows? But that's one reason why they pick on him; having such an uncommon first name and such a common last name. He's also just how he acted… acts all tough and powerful. They say he looks for people to make trouble, and takes away a load of house points. And then he keeps to himself, reading all the time. He has no friends that I've heard of."
Timothy sat back and blinked. He'd already met three people he knew would give him a hard time that year, and it didn't settle well with his already nervous apprehension.
Darian sighed.
"Well, one thing's for sure… we're staying out of his way, and that Carla girl too."
Everyone nodded and afterwards, soon forgot about what happened and got caught up in conversations over things like Quidditch and Wizarding Cards that came in Chocolate Frogs. Time seemed to fly, for before Timothy knew it, a voice came onto the loud speaker.
"Students must be dressed and prepared for arrival at Hogsmeade Station. The train will be stopping in ten minutes. Leave your belongings on the train, they will be taken up to the school separately."
"Better get into our school robes," Darian muttered, reaching for his trunk. "Everyone else is dressed too."
Timothy looked out the compartment door window and saw students already wearing their wizarding robes and milling around the walkway. He went to his trunk, carefully put aside a sleeping Windstone, and pulled out his robes. They each pulled them over their regular clothes, and as Timothy looked down at himself, he suddenly felt excited.
I'm gonna be just like dad! Mum too! I'm at Hogwarts, and I'm gonna be just as good a wizard as they both are! He thought. But then another voice came in.
Don't be stupid, how could you ever be as good as they are! They defeated the most powerful and dangerous wizard on earth, and you've done nothing! You've never even conjured a spell before, how could you possibly ever reach their level? I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't last a month at this school. Wizard indeed.
"Timothy? Hello? Timothy!"
Timothy snapped out of himself to stare at Darian, John at his side. Both were completely dressed in their Hogwarts robes; John's was all wrinkly and Darian's had fluff stuck to his.
"Would you like to go now? The train's stopped." Darian crossed his arms.
Timothy nervously ran his hand through his black hair, which felt more messy than ever before.
"Yeah, I guess… yeah, let's go."
He turned and opened the door, stepping a foot out when he nearly tripped a boy. Darian and John bumped into his back and yelped.
"Oh, sorry!" Timothy cried, leaning over the boy. To his horror, it turned out to be Taku Smith. He was all red in the face, which rivaled that of his hair. His hand was tightly clutched around something and he held it to his chest, almost protectively.
"Do watch where you step, Potter! You can injure someone with your lack of attention!" He snapped, then scrambled to his feet and was hastily off, the other students piling in after him.
"What was it that he had in his hand?" Darian asked curiously as they filed into the walkway.
Timothy had blushed with embarrassment after tripping Taku, but he shrugged at Darian's question and led the three of them down the train.
"It's not your fault, Timothy," Darian reassured him with John nodding at his side. "It's that Taku's fault for bolting down the walkway like that, how were you to know…?"
He stopped in mid-sentence for they had all stepped off the train and ran into the huge crowd of students, going in all directions. But that was not what they were all now gaping at. A huge, hairy figure towered over all of them. It was hard to take it, it being so huge. There was so much dark hair that it was hard to tell if it even had eyes. Hands the size of desks hung at it's side, and the feet matched in length. For a large creature, it wore clothing. A plain, hunter green leather vest was bound around it's torso. Billowing white pants that must have been made from boat sails, blew with the wind around it's legs.
The three of them did not move a muscle, necks craned to look for any signs of facial features… if it had any. The creature was making it's way through the crowd, pointing in directions. It then stopped and saw them, and the hair parted with the wind just enough to show a very large smile.
"Well now, little ones, don't just stand there! Move on with your peers, first years in the boats!"
The voice did not fit this creature at all; it was light, cheery, and most of all… kind. This was just as shocking, and still they did not move. The creature laughed.
"Ah, never seen a Timberlan before! Oh, you sweet dears. Mr. Potter, you and your friends will be late if you don't get in the boats. We're leaving now. Plenty of time to get aquatinted later."
This creature was obviously a lady creature, and with a gentle… but large push with her hand, she got the shell-shocked threesome to get to the boats.
"Dad seemed to have left that part out." Timothy muttered, as the boats they had suddenly found themselves in, lurched to move.
"This is going to be great!" Darian shouted.
"I hope I survive this." John muttered silently in his small voice.
A/N: I do hope you liked this chapter better. We met a lot of new people. Plus, one real odd guy and one really odd creature gal. You'll meet even more new people in the next chapter, as well as the professors and we meet back up with Eian Dumbledore! I hope you paied attention, if you haven't noticed... I now have a better idea of the plot, and the first hints were in this chapter!
Take note, if I haven't already mentioned.... next I'm reformatting Hatred's Prisoner so if you want, ignore the authoralerts about those. I'm off to work on chapter three of Land Of the Four Powers now, so if you're liking that... look out!
Renee's site is turning out to be a hit, and I'm already trying to transfer it to a new free service. I'm having probs with it, but when it's done... I'll put the new link on the old, current site. For now, go to http://www.expage.com/page/theworldofreneepotter
::points finger:: Hey! Hey, I see you, ready to click out... you need to review! ::points finger down to the form:: Go on, review... be a good reader. Thaaaaats right, good! Now, you're my new best friend. And hellos to all my best friends already who review! ::grins::
::waves to go hit head on desk 'cause there's more school work to do before she can write::
~OrcaPotter
AHHHH! School! School! Oh, the woes of having school! ::screams and bangs head on desk:: I'm sorry if the first chapter disappointed you, blame school... I really wanted to get something up, so I typed that and posted. I guess it was necessary, though. ::calms down:: Sorry, but I promise some INTERESTING things happen in this chapter... towards the end, so pay attention.
Uhh, now, I'm working on this AND LOtFP. So, now I'll be working on chapter 3 of that story. As result, you won't see chapter 4 of this for a while... it depends. National Art Honors Society has me painting stupid ADS on the baseball field WALL after school in the HOT SUN for THREE HOURS! So, that takes up precious WRITING TIME! You may blame that too. Let's not forget the one word that makes me cringe.
Homecoming.
I won't ellaborate on that, other than that it's next week.
::sighs:: I really do hope that you like this chapter, please tell me by leaving a review. All of you are ever so peachy for doing so, luvs yeh all!
I'll stop blabbering now and let you read. ::moves out of the way for you to read::
DISCLAIMER: See Orca. See Orca type. See HP book. See JK's name. See Orca disclaim rights to the Potter name and affiliates. See Orca claim Timothy and all the other people that she made up. See Orca slap those who try to sue her.
Chapter Two: The Journey to Hogwarts
Time seemed to speed up so fast to Timothy that the night before he was to ride the Hogwarts Express came before he knew it. He had spent the last few weeks of the summer listening to stories about Hogwarts from everyone he knew that went there. While each story was fascinating, especially the ones his great-uncle would tell about his grandfather's adventures in the great castle, Timothy found that the most intriguing and exciting stories came from his parents. His father had been telling him all about what had happened to him at Hogwarts for years, and Timothy knew every detail by heart. He would stare up at his father's scar as he would sit on his bed and explain about the mysterious Mirror of Erised and what happened in the Chamber of Secrets. Timothy would dream about all those things, but when he would tell his father he would only sigh and say that all those things are no longer there, lost in the fire with the original castle. He would say that he would have his own adventures; the only thing that would be the same as before would be the layout of the castle. Up until then, Timothy couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts, but now as he was getting ready for bed for the last time in his own room, butterflies began to swarm his stomach.
"Can't see why you just could take me, and not that feather brain!" Muttered Jeff, the Jefforagon, who was sitting on the edge of Timothy's bed, eyeing the dark gray owl that was asleep in it's cage on Timothy's dresser. The little yellow dragon had been one of Timothy's closest companions since they met, when he was five years old. Jeff had helped his mother through a great ordeal she had to go through, in order to defeat the evil wizard known as Voldemort. Now he was a part of the family, and the wise-cracking dragon had always been there for Timothy.
"You know that dragons are not allowed in, or even near the castle!" Timothy told him for the one hundredth time. However, it hurt every time he said it, for he was going to miss Jeff more than he thought Jeff knew.
Jeff eyed him smugly, but the look didn't last. He was soon shaking his head sadly.
"I know, I know… it's just, well… who's gonna be there for you, huh? I don't think that over-grown canary there is gonna be much help!"
Timothy couldn't help but to giggle; Jeff did not get off to a good start with his new owl, Windstone. Apparently, Windstone is exceedingly picky, and is only the most affectionate for Timothy and no one else. While he acts polite to his parents, and even his little sister, the owl wants nothing to do with Jeff.
"Windstone's gonna deliver mail and stuff… it would be too hard for you to do that." Timothy pointed out. Jeff's mouth hung open to counter him, but he was a loss for words. Timothy laughed again and turned around to look back at his packed trunk. He sighed loudly, and sat down heavily on his bed. Looking up, he stared at the starry ceiling which the mural had changed to when the sun went down. A shooting star whizzed by, and the swirls of Jupiter blended silently as it turned magically.
The butterflies returned, as they had been for the past few days. Would he fit in at Hogwarts? Sure, his parents were world-famous and top graduates from there, but would he? Would everyone act the same way towards him there as they do on the streets? Following him where ever he would go, bugging him for autographs, squealing as he would come into sight? He turned on his stomach and stroked his worn-out, stuffed owl.
Would he make friends that would like him for who he really is, and not for his name?
Jeff came and walked casually on top of Timothy's back, like he would usually do when he knew that he was troubled. He sat down and twirled his long, purple tentacle tipped tail around Timothy's head, his own elongated snout towards Timothy's feet, wearing a considering expression. Timothy looked over and smiled a little, feeling a tug at his heart, for he missed his dragon friend already.
"You may be famous, bright eyes, but only for your name. What you need to do when you get to that school is let everyone see you for who you really are, and not as the shadow of your parent's achievements. You must make your own." Jeff said with a deep, wise voice that he rarely spoke with, but when he did you knew he was serious.
Timothy grimaced and closed his eyes; Jeff knew what he had been thinking for a long time. He shook his head.
"How, Jeff? Everyone's gonna expect me to be exactly like mum and dad, but how could I possibly be able to do what my parents did?"
Jeff began to tap Timothy's head with his tail to the point where he got annoyed and swatted at it.
"Oh, don't be silly. You'll have your own adventures there, what your parents did is in the past, and won't be able to be repeated again… not by anyone, not even themselves. Now it's your turn!"
Timothy was about to argue, twisting his body to face Jeff, when there was a soft knock at the door.
"Bedtime, sweetheart." It was his mother, her long brown hair highlighted by the candle in the hallway. "You're gonna have a long day tomorrow, so you need your rest."
With a loud sigh, Timothy faced the wall next to his bed quickly, rubbing his messy black hair absentmindedly.
"Say goodnight, Jeff." His mother said to the yellow dragon, who gave a puff of smoke and sauntered off of Timothy's back.
"Goodnight, Jeff." He pouted, jumping to the ground. Timothy tried to stifle a giggle, always loving it when he said that. However, he frowned slowly as he turned around to see his friend beginning to leave his room.
"'Night, Jeff. I'll see you tomorrow, won't I? Before I go?"
Jeff turned and gave him his toothy grin.
"You think I'd let you go off without my lecture? I think not! Better prepare for it, I plan to snap at your heels before you walk out that door tomorrow morning!"
"Oh, boy." Both Timothy and his mother said in union. Jeff left and Timothy's gaze met his mother's. Her big blue eyes were warm and kind in the low light of his room.
"So, all ready and set to go?" She asked him, pulling back the covers of his bed. He didn't answer, just nodded solemnly as he glanced back at his packed trunk. A soft coo from his dresser reminded him of his owl, asleep and dreaming in his cage. His mother finished with the sheets and was looking at Timothy curiously.
"Alright, honey? Nervous?"
Again, Timothy didn't answer, but nodded his head so slightly that his mother leaned in closer to get a better look at his eyes. He tried to hide his fear, but his mother had a sixth sense at knowing what he was feeling. She put on a sad smile and brought him into her arms, stroking his black hair gently.
"Don't worry, Timothy. It's normal to feel this way, and I know you feel even worse… knowing who you are and all." She brought his chin up to look into his eyes, and he found himself staring into hers, finding comfort there. "But don't let it get to your head. You are Timothy, and don't let people's expectations of you change who you really are inside."
"Everything alright?"
Timothy drew back a little to see his father coming into the room, wearing a smile but showing concern in his green eyes behind his black glasses. His hair was just as wild as Timothy's, and he could partially see the lightning bolt shaped scar that he had had since he was a baby.
He came over to them and drew them all into his own embrace.
"Well, I knew tomorrow had to come, but I didn't know it would come so soon." He muttered.
Silence ensued, the three of them holding each other in the dim light of Timothy's bedroom, the painted magical ceiling above moving about it's business. Kalina had already gone to bed, and Timothy felt jealous of her, not for the first time. She would stay with their parents, and Timothy wouldn't see them at all until Christmas. He had never been away from his family for that long.
"Come now," His mother finally said, breaking them apart and leading Timothy's arm to his bed. "Bedtime."
Timothy climbed under the sheets and reluctantly laid his head on the pillow. His parents smiled down at him, exactly the same way they did nearly every night of his life. He felt tears threatening to push through his eyes, but he fought them.
"Don't worry, you'll be having so much fun at Hogwarts that you'll forget about being homesick. We'll be together for Christmas and Easter, then there's summer vacation." His mother said to him soothingly, brushing away his bangs. Her hand caught his eye in the light, and he could see the old burn scar on her palm. A few years ago, she told him how she had gotten it, how when she was being held captive by Voldemort that her wand was hexed to burn to the touch if she tried to retrieve it. It was a story he liked to hear, for in the end his father had come to save her life.
She kissed his forehead gently, with a small smile. Timothy smiled back weakly, then looked to his father. He was looking at his mother and she nodded, leaving the room.
"I'll see you in the morning, Timothy. Love you."
"Love you too, mum… g'night." He replied. She left the door open a crack as his father blew out the candles on the walls with his wand. Then he looked back at Timothy and sat beside him in bed.
"Dad?" Timothy asked, pulling out his stuffed owls from the depths of his sheets. "How did you feel, the night before you first went to Hogwarts."
His father sighed deeply, looking away for a moment. To Timothy, he seemed so powerful and tall, the only other person he admired just as much was his mother. His black, messy hair seemed even darker in the absence of light, and the light that did trickle in from the hallway reflected off his round glasses.
"I've told you how it was like for me to grow up; it wasn't fun. For my entire life until then, I thought of myself as alone and worth nothing. When I found out about who my parents really were, and that I was a wizard, well… I couldn't wait to get out of there! When I was were you are now, there was nothing I wanted more than to be off to that mysterious castle." He looked directly at Timothy, with a sad smile.
"However, you, Timothy, have grown up in a loving family who cares for you very much. I never had that. So, I would assume that what you're feeling now would be that of great apprehension and nervousness. But like your mother said, that's normal. It'll be alright, trust me."
Timothy nodded, closing his eyes as his father ruffled his hair. He then patted his shoulder and Timothy threw his arms around him, and they stayed in a hug for several minutes before his father kissed him goodnight as well and began to leave. He watched intently as he saw the last of his great father, closing the door to let the only light shine from the painted stars and planets on the ceiling. A soft contented hoot came from Windstone, and Timothy tried to push his worries away, and fell asleep.
Everything the next morning was a blur, up until he found himself standing beside his parents at the newly renovated King's Cross train station in London. Kalina looked around curiously as their mother led them past groups of muggles, their father pushing Timothy's trunk and things along with a cart. People stared as they went past, however, not with awe and surprise as they usually got. Timothy and Kalina were nearly the only ones wearing anything close to muggle clothes. Their parents were wearing their wizarding robes, yet they paid no attention to any of looks as the four of them came up to a wall separating platforms 9 and 10.
"Where's platform 9 and 3/4?" Timothy asked, looking at his parents with puzzlement.
His father grinned, almost mischievously.
"Watch me, I'll go first."
Timothy stared suspiciously as his father steadied the cart and began a brisk walk towards the wall. It did not look like he was going to walk around it, it looked like he was going to hit it! Timothy's mouth gaped open and he stepped forward to lunge at his father and warn him to stop. But his mother held him back with a smile and whispered,
"Watch."
Kalina looked just as nervous, and the two siblings let out a loud gasp when their father simply disappeared through the wall!
"What the…?"
"How did daddy…?"
"You next, Timothy." Their mother said cheerfully, giving him a little nudge in the back. He looked back and up at her with part confusion, part skepticism.
"Just do what your dad did, honey. Don't be afraid, otherwise you will hit the wall." She reassured him.
Slowly looking away from her and taking a long swallow, Timothy started to walk towards the wall. There were no muggles around, just the barrier in front of him. He made another look back at his mother and sister, who was staring at him with an astonished face. His mother smiled and nodded for him to go on, and before he knew it… he was no longer looking at his mother and sister, he was looking at a solid wall.
"Hey, see… you made it!"
Timothy turned to see the smiling face of his father, messy black hair and all. His trunk and Windstone stood off to the side, and he heard a loud train whistle go off. Jaw dropping once again, Timothy saw a large, scarlet colored train. One the side were golden letters bearing "Hogwarts Express". Children his age and older were waving goodbye out of windows, others were loading trunks into compartments. Hoots, chirps, and loud meows sounded from every direction as magical families darted here and there to get to where they needed to go.
"Wow!" Timothy shouted as his father put a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, his mother and sister appeared at his side. Kalina looked ecstatic, her eyes wide and her long dark brown hair billowing with gusts of wind that blew through the station.
"Oh, I want to go too! Mum! I want to go with Timothy!"
Both their parents laughed, shaking their heads.
"We better move out of the way before someone walks into us." His father said, taking Timothy by the shoulder and walking out from the shadows. The cart with his trunk and Windstone magically began to follow them.
It was then that loud gasps, stares, and shouts of awe rang out as Timothy and his family began to walk down by the train.
"Could it be?"
"Yes, it is!"
"The Potters!"
"Little Timothy must be starting this year."
"Oh, I can't believe it! Harry and Renee Potter!"
"I feel flush!"
Timothy sighed, leaning closer to his father and looked up at him. Behind his round black glasses, same as Timothy's, his father's green eyes were set and determined to ignore the familiar praise.
"This looks like a good spot," His father suddenly stopped in front of one compartment on the train that was somewhat out of the way. "This is where your Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, mum, and I sat. I sat here on my first trip, and so shall you."
Timothy stared up at the window, which was empty of people. At least he wouldn't start out being gawked at for the whole trip to Hogwarts. With a wave of his wand, his father sent his trunk and Windstone into the compartment. When it was settled, his father turned to face him and the rest of the family.
"Well, now… I think you should get going. Better settle in, it's a long ride to Hogwarts." He said dryly, wringing his wand in his hands. Timothy looked at his mother, who was absentmindedly playing with Kalina's hair. His sister looked hopelessly jealous, eyeing her brother.
His father cleared his throat loudly, then suddenly pulled Timothy to the side. He knelt down to his eye level, and the two of them stared.
"I have something for you," His father whispered. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a very, very old looking piece of parchment. It was completely blank, and yet his father stared at it with nearly a tear in his eye. "This belonged to your grandfather, he and his friends made this when he went to Hogwarts. It was passed down to me, and now I pass it on to you."
Taking the worn parchment in his hand, Timothy stared at it blankly.
"It's just a plain piece of parchment, dad, what is it?"
"Harry, what are you doing? He needs to get on the train now!" His mother called over their shoulders.
"Just one minute, Renee!" He called back. Looking back at Timothy, there was a large, mischievous grin on his face. Timothy couldn't help but to grin back.
"What does it do, dad?" He asked eagerly.
"When you get to Hogwarts, and when you're alone, mind you… take your wand and tap the parchment and say 'I solemnly swear, I am up to no good'." He looked over Timothy's shoulder quickly, and hastily added: "To clear it, tap it again and say 'mischief managed'."
"What is it?" Timothy looked at the parchment with newfound curiosity.
"You'll see!" His father winked, then stood up, pulling Timothy back towards the train. Kalina pulled away from their mother and ran to their father.
"What did you two do?" She asked as he picked her up.
"Yes, Harry, what did you do?" Their mother had a suspicious look on her face, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. Timothy was still staring at the blank parchment when his mother pulled him into a ferocious hug, nearly knocking the wind out of him.
"You be good now. I don't know what your father talked to you about, but keep your head and stay out of trouble." She said sternly, fixing his hair as she allowed himself to pull away. He fixed his glasses and looked at Kalina. She took in a big breath and held it, then when their eyes locked she burst into tears and leapt into his arms, making his own eyes go wide.
"I want to go with you!" She wailed. Timothy looked up at their mother and while smiling, she pulled her back.
"Oh, don't cry, Kalina! I'll be sending you and mum and dad letters with Windstone… then I'll see you at Christmas!" He said as calmly as he could, fighting his fear of leaving.
The train whistle blew loudly twice, and people began to run onto the train. Timothy ran his hand through his hair nervously.
"Time to go, Timothy. Up you go." His father needlessly picked him up and placed him on the stairs leading inside the compartment. They looked at each other and fell into one last, long hug. Then the whistle blew again, and the train began to lurch into life. With a weak wave, Timothy climbed inside and sat next to the window. Both his parents, and a tearing Kalina were waving to him… and he could see his parents crying too. To see them that way, he couldn't help but let a tear slip as well, as the train began to move. He suddenly, for the first time in his life, felt completely alone. His head fell against the window, and the train left the station, his family fading out of view.
"Excuse me, mind if I sit in here with you?" Said a voice.
Timothy turned to see a boy his age and height, with shaggy black hair and gray eyes. The boy had his trunk dragging behind him in the doorway, and he suddenly dropped it as their eyes locked.
"It's you! Timothy Potter!"
Timothy stopped himself from rolling his eyes, instead giving a slight nod and a small: "Yes."
The boy hastily dragged his trunk fully inside and stowed it away, quickly sitting down close to Timothy and staring at him happily, his gray eyes bright.
"Remember me? From a few years ago, back at Hogwarts when it was officially declared open? It's me! Darian Hall!"
Timothy studied his face for a moment, and then the memory came back to him. His face split into just as happy a smile.
"Oh, yes! We went around the castle together, I remember now!"
They both erupted into spirited giggles as they exchanged the usual conversation. How they'd been, what they'd done; stuff like that. Timothy's apprehension was forgotten as they chatted for up to an hour.
"My mom left for Hogwarts a week ago," Darian said casually. "Can't wait to see her again."
Timothy nodded, trying not to dwell on his own mother. He wouldn't see her at all until Christmas.
"So!" Darian cheered. "What house do you think you'll be in?"
"My parents were in Gryffindor. Everyone thinks I'll be in it, but… I'm not too sure." Timothy mumbled, looking away. Darian looked at him intently.
"Why aren't you sure? Of course you'd be in Gryffindor!"
Timothy shrugged and didn't answer. For as long as he'd known about the Hogwarts houses and what they stood for, knowing that his parents fit perfectly into the Gryffindor house, he was sure he'd be sorted there as well. However, lately, he hadn't been feeling all that brave… and wasn't so sure any more as he had when he was five years old.
"I think I would fit into Ravenclaw, my dad was a Hufflepuff though. I don't think I'd be sorted there, both my parents have told me that I don't listen to them half the time." Darian grinned. "That I agree with. Or even Gryffindor! That would cool to be in the same house as you!"
Timothy looked back at him and smiled. That thought made him feel better, but he still had doubts. He was about to voice this, when a loud crash from outside their compartment made both their heads snap to attention.
"Hah! Get out, skinny!"
"Yeah!"
Timothy and Darian looked at each other with puzzled looks. With a concern look in his eyes, Timothy stood up and went to the compartment door. He opened it and the laughter from other compartments became loud and clear. Sticking his head out further with Darian coming to look over his shoulder, Timothy looked up and down the walkway, seeing other people looking out too. He ignored their turned attention to him, and focused on a tall figure lumbering towards his compartment.
"Who's that?" Darian whispered in Timothy's ear. He just shrugged as the figure, a tall and skinny boy, came clearer into view. His face was red with embarrassment, sweat making long and shaggy brown hair stick to his forehead. People snickered and pointed as he walked past, and Timothy couldn't help but to feel sorry. He looked over his shoulder at Darian, who was wearing a similar expression.
"Let's ask him to sit with us, he can't be that bad." He whispered.
Timothy nodded and turned to the boy, who was just about to reach them, his face staring at the floor as he drug his trunk behind him.
"Hey!" Timothy called out as friendly as he could. The boy didn't look up, but continued his way down the walkway. He nearly came next to them before Timothy tried again. "Hello, need a place to sit?"
The boy slowly looked upward, red hazel eyes tired and shy. He straightened up more, and Timothy gulped, as this boy's height was at least a handful of inches higher than both him and Darian.
"You're asking me to… sit with you?" The boy asked quietly, astonished.
Both Timothy and Darian nodded. Darian inched out to grab the boy's trunk. Timothy smiled warily and motioned for the boy to come in. With an uncertain look, and a glance back at where he came from where people were staring incredulously, the boy obliged. Ignoring the looks he was getting, Timothy helped Darian with the trunk and closed the door behind them. The boy stared at them with puzzlement and relief as they stowed it away with their own. When they sat down across from them, there was an awkward silence. The boy, even sitting, was taller than the two of them… and he was deathly skinny. His arms and legs were long and gangly, a thin face with his shaggy pale-brown hair. The long sleeved shirt he wore was old looking, and it swam around him; his blue jeans were tattered in some places and just as worn. Timothy tried not to stare, and his gaze met Darian's as they both were trying to avoid the same thing… adding to this boy's unfortunate situation.
"Er…" Timothy ran a hand through his black hair, fiddling with his glasses as well. "My name's Timothy Potter, and this is Darian Hall. What's yours?"
The boy shifted in his seat, looking away and back again nervously.
"John. John Stanton." He nearly whispered, his voice small for such a tall boy.
"Well, John… why was everyone laughing at you?" Timothy asked as politely and nonchalantly as he could. Darian nodded.
"Yeah, why'd you have to move?"
John flushed deeply and stared back down at his feet, his large hands wringing each other tightly. He shrugged after a moment, but Timothy and Darian kept looking at him intently for an answer.
"If I told you, you'd laugh too." He whispered simply.
Timothy immediately shook his head.
"No I wouldn't." Darian shook his head.
John suddenly laughed silently, rocking back to lean against the bench. He shook his own head, his hair flinging into his eyes, which he brushed away.
"Everyone makes fun of me, why wouldn't you? And you," He looked directly at Timothy. "You're mum and dad are Harry and Renee Potter, you're famous… why would you care?"
Darian looked at Timothy, who had blushed himself. Timothy's eyes narrowed behind his glasses at John.
"Just because I'm famous doesn't mean I don't care about things. I don't like to be picked on just as much as anyone else."
"Who would make fun of you? You're a Potter, everyone admires you and your parents. Me? I'm taller than anyone else my age, skinny, weak… and… shy. More than one reason to pick on me."
Before Timothy could say anything, Darian spoke up.
"So what? I could care less what you look like, as long as you're a good person. Anyone who makes fun of anyone for just what they look like, is stupid! I don't consider myself like that, and I really don't think Timothy is either."
Both John and Timothy stared at him. Darian put on a wise look, but couldn't help but blush. Then, just as suddenly, all three of them began to laugh.
"Sorry." Darian said, sheepishly scratching his head.
John looked more at ease.
"So, you really don't care about how I look and all?" His small voice did not fit him, but it was more confident.
"Don't be silly," Timothy continued to laugh. "I could care less about that."
"Funny, I thought that someone of your representation would, Timothy Potter."
The laughter stopped as abruptly as it had started. All three of them realized that the compartment door was open, and standing in the doorway was a girl. She stood tall, slender and healthy looking, with short blonde hair and cream colored skin. Her arms were crossed and her expression wore a cocky sneer.
Timothy immediately did not like this girl.
"Who are you?" Timothy asked.
The girl opened her sly mouth to answer, when she suddenly stumbled forward. Her eyes narrowed in outrage as she turned around to reveal a boy, with spiky blonde hair and pale skin, cowering before her.
"Sean! You idiot! Watch what you're doing!" She screeched, her voice so high in pitch that Timothy cringed at the noise.
The boy that was Sean winced and nodded. He was just as tall as she was, and yet he cowered before her as if she were ten feet taller. Timothy noticed that Darian was trying to keep himself from laughing, and John looked slightly afraid.
"Now then, what were we… oh yes! That's right. My name is Carla Haughton. The blundering idiot behind me is my brother, Sean." She pointed behind her, Sean doing and saying nothing but looking at his sister with tense apprehension.
"Are both of you… first years?" Darian asked cautiously.
Carla narrowed her blue eyes, which were not like Timothy's at all, but ice cold and menacing.
"Yes," She said with her nose in the air and a cold sneer. "I am. Oh, yes, and my brother too." Carla's mouth upturned into a fake smile. "So looking forward to Hogwarts, we are. I hear it's built exactly like the old one, before it was burnt down by that evil wizard. What was his name? Oh, yes… Voldemort."
Timothy, and he could sense everyone else with him, took a nervous swallow at the mention of the name.
"Of course, our famous Mr. Potter's parents saved us all and killed the guy! So that we could all be here this day… going to school." Carla's narrowed gaze fell on top of Timothy, and he suddenly felt himself grow angry.
"That's right. My parents did kill him, and that was a long while ago. So, can we just move on?" He said coolly, eyeing Carla and her brother.
"Yeah, like yourselves for instance." Darian added; Timothy turned to look at him, as well as John, with amazement at his boldness towards someone who was obviously trouble.
Carla huffed, and Sean let out a whine like a lost dog.
"I'd watch that attitude… Mr.?"
"Hall. Darian Hall, and don't you forget it!"
She put on an amused grin, and put a hand on her brother's shoulder, making him jump slightly.
"Darian Hall. Heh, don't you worry, I won't forget you. Or your famous friend." She looked over at John for the first time and let out a snicker. "And look! It's our friend, Mr. Stanton, from further up the train! Why, I believe you've finally found your niche with these fools, John."
John turned beet red and sulked in his chair. Both Timothy and Darian stood up, anger surging through them.
"Watch it Carla, he's with us." Timothy said, more bravely then he felt.
Carla laughed, Sean staring at her. She paused momentarily with a furious look at him, and then he joined her in laughing with uncertainty.
"Well, it's obvious now!" She said between giggles. "You all go together perfectly!"
Sean was eyeing something behind her nervously in the hallway, and persisted to tap her shoulder. Her laughter died and Carla's face contorted with exasperation.
"What is it, Sean!" She leered at him.
"D'uh, someone's comm'n." He said blankly.
"What?" She snapped, leaning further in the hallway for a better look. Her expression fell and she sighed angrily. "Figures, it's that Prefect with the funny name again."
Timothy, Darian, and John exchanged glances, still feeling hot with anger towards this rather annoying girl.
Carla turned back at them and pointed with a long, slender finger.
"I'll be seeing you around, boys. C'mon, Sean, let's go."
She left and closed the compartment door behind her, Sean at silently at her heels. Timothy let out a sigh of relief, but the door opened up again no more than a few seconds after it had closed. A tall boy, muscular in built, with long red hair and blue-gray eyes, stood in the doorway with a powerful aura around him.
"What's going on in here?" He said in a smooth, commanding voice.
"Nothing." The three of them answered immediately.
The boy considered each of them in turn with an intense stare. When he looked at Timothy there was jolt in his eye and he gave what looked like a painful smile.
"Well, well… look, it's Timothy Potter. Nice to meet you. Your parent's are great magical people, wouldn't be here today if it weren't for them. Order of Merlin, First Class, right? Both of them? Figures, after what they've done."
Timothy said nothing, relaxing a little and rolling his eyes at the usual speech given to him by first meetings with people. He stared up politely at this boy, who must have been at least a few years older than all of them.
"And you are?" He nodded towards the boy.
The boy's face suddenly grew dark and he narrowed his eyes. Timothy shuddered and sighed, fearing that what had happened before with the first two acquaintances would repeat itself.
"I'm a Prefect; a Prefect for Gryffindor to be exact. I'm not to be crossed, even if you don't end up in my house. I know all of you are first years, I'm a sixth year." He crossed his arms. "You all may call me Smith."
Timothy said nothing, while both Darian and John nodded. Without another word, Smith left the compartment, slamming the door with a bang.
"Well, he obviously has issues." Darian muttered, turning back to Timothy and John.
"Glad he scared Carla away, though." John said in his small voice, still looking at his feet.
"I sure do hope I don't end up in the same house as her and her brother, or even Smith for that matter. He gives me the creeps." Timothy said.
"I heard people talking about him," John said, looking up at Timothy, his eyes wide with intensity. "People make fun of him all the time too. It's his first name."
"What's his first name?" Both Timothy and Darian asked at the same time, leaning closer to John.
"It's a really odd name," John's already small voice was lowered even more, making Timothy and Darian strain to hear him. "That's why I think he was so uptight when you asked him, Timothy. Before people turned to me in the compartment I was in before, they were talking about him. There was another sixth year in there with me, as well as some third and fourth years with their first year siblings. Anyway, his first name is Taku."
"Taku?" Both Timothy and Daian said in disbelief.
"What kind of a name is Taku?" Darian asked, scratching his head.
John shrugged.
"Who knows? But that's one reason why they pick on him; having such an uncommon first name and such a common last name. He's also just how he acted… acts all tough and powerful. They say he looks for people to make trouble, and takes away a load of house points. And then he keeps to himself, reading all the time. He has no friends that I've heard of."
Timothy sat back and blinked. He'd already met three people he knew would give him a hard time that year, and it didn't settle well with his already nervous apprehension.
Darian sighed.
"Well, one thing's for sure… we're staying out of his way, and that Carla girl too."
Everyone nodded and afterwards, soon forgot about what happened and got caught up in conversations over things like Quidditch and Wizarding Cards that came in Chocolate Frogs. Time seemed to fly, for before Timothy knew it, a voice came onto the loud speaker.
"Students must be dressed and prepared for arrival at Hogsmeade Station. The train will be stopping in ten minutes. Leave your belongings on the train, they will be taken up to the school separately."
"Better get into our school robes," Darian muttered, reaching for his trunk. "Everyone else is dressed too."
Timothy looked out the compartment door window and saw students already wearing their wizarding robes and milling around the walkway. He went to his trunk, carefully put aside a sleeping Windstone, and pulled out his robes. They each pulled them over their regular clothes, and as Timothy looked down at himself, he suddenly felt excited.
I'm gonna be just like dad! Mum too! I'm at Hogwarts, and I'm gonna be just as good a wizard as they both are! He thought. But then another voice came in.
Don't be stupid, how could you ever be as good as they are! They defeated the most powerful and dangerous wizard on earth, and you've done nothing! You've never even conjured a spell before, how could you possibly ever reach their level? I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't last a month at this school. Wizard indeed.
"Timothy? Hello? Timothy!"
Timothy snapped out of himself to stare at Darian, John at his side. Both were completely dressed in their Hogwarts robes; John's was all wrinkly and Darian's had fluff stuck to his.
"Would you like to go now? The train's stopped." Darian crossed his arms.
Timothy nervously ran his hand through his black hair, which felt more messy than ever before.
"Yeah, I guess… yeah, let's go."
He turned and opened the door, stepping a foot out when he nearly tripped a boy. Darian and John bumped into his back and yelped.
"Oh, sorry!" Timothy cried, leaning over the boy. To his horror, it turned out to be Taku Smith. He was all red in the face, which rivaled that of his hair. His hand was tightly clutched around something and he held it to his chest, almost protectively.
"Do watch where you step, Potter! You can injure someone with your lack of attention!" He snapped, then scrambled to his feet and was hastily off, the other students piling in after him.
"What was it that he had in his hand?" Darian asked curiously as they filed into the walkway.
Timothy had blushed with embarrassment after tripping Taku, but he shrugged at Darian's question and led the three of them down the train.
"It's not your fault, Timothy," Darian reassured him with John nodding at his side. "It's that Taku's fault for bolting down the walkway like that, how were you to know…?"
He stopped in mid-sentence for they had all stepped off the train and ran into the huge crowd of students, going in all directions. But that was not what they were all now gaping at. A huge, hairy figure towered over all of them. It was hard to take it, it being so huge. There was so much dark hair that it was hard to tell if it even had eyes. Hands the size of desks hung at it's side, and the feet matched in length. For a large creature, it wore clothing. A plain, hunter green leather vest was bound around it's torso. Billowing white pants that must have been made from boat sails, blew with the wind around it's legs.
The three of them did not move a muscle, necks craned to look for any signs of facial features… if it had any. The creature was making it's way through the crowd, pointing in directions. It then stopped and saw them, and the hair parted with the wind just enough to show a very large smile.
"Well now, little ones, don't just stand there! Move on with your peers, first years in the boats!"
The voice did not fit this creature at all; it was light, cheery, and most of all… kind. This was just as shocking, and still they did not move. The creature laughed.
"Ah, never seen a Timberlan before! Oh, you sweet dears. Mr. Potter, you and your friends will be late if you don't get in the boats. We're leaving now. Plenty of time to get aquatinted later."
This creature was obviously a lady creature, and with a gentle… but large push with her hand, she got the shell-shocked threesome to get to the boats.
"Dad seemed to have left that part out." Timothy muttered, as the boats they had suddenly found themselves in, lurched to move.
"This is going to be great!" Darian shouted.
"I hope I survive this." John muttered silently in his small voice.
A/N: I do hope you liked this chapter better. We met a lot of new people. Plus, one real odd guy and one really odd creature gal. You'll meet even more new people in the next chapter, as well as the professors and we meet back up with Eian Dumbledore! I hope you paied attention, if you haven't noticed... I now have a better idea of the plot, and the first hints were in this chapter!
Take note, if I haven't already mentioned.... next I'm reformatting Hatred's Prisoner so if you want, ignore the authoralerts about those. I'm off to work on chapter three of Land Of the Four Powers now, so if you're liking that... look out!
Renee's site is turning out to be a hit, and I'm already trying to transfer it to a new free service. I'm having probs with it, but when it's done... I'll put the new link on the old, current site. For now, go to http://www.expage.com/page/theworldofreneepotter
::points finger:: Hey! Hey, I see you, ready to click out... you need to review! ::points finger down to the form:: Go on, review... be a good reader. Thaaaaats right, good! Now, you're my new best friend. And hellos to all my best friends already who review! ::grins::
::waves to go hit head on desk 'cause there's more school work to do before she can write::
~OrcaPotter