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The Troubles of Neville

Previously:

"Hey, are you okay?" Harry jumped at the voice, eyes widened. His shocked gaze shot to the other side of the compartment, where a boy with orange hair, a smidgen of dirt and several freckles stared at him. For the first time he realised he'd barged in someone else's compartment, and he smiled sheepishly.

Oops. I need to be more observant sometimes.

Neither Harry nor the other boy spoke and the silence between them quickly became awkward. Having grown up in a house that was rarely silent, Harry decided to fix that.

"Hi!" he said. "Sorry to barge in on you like this. I had to wave goodbye to the family…"

"I saw," the other boy grinned.

"Oh, yeah, I s'pose you would've," Harry scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh. As the other boy looked around his age, he decided to find out if he could make his first friend. "Are you a first year too?"

"Uh huh," the boy nodded. "I'm Ron, Ron Weasley." Weasley? That rang a bell. His dad had mentioned it a few times, usually when he was dealing with cases involving muggles.

"Your dad works at the ministry, right?" he asked. "To do with muggles?"

Ron looked surprised, then pleased. "Yeah, that's right. Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. You've heard of him?"

"Dad's worked with him a few times," Harry said, "says he's a good bloke, if a bit mad on the muggles."

"Yeah," Ron said with a sigh, slumping down in his seat. He looked at Harry through his fringe and then narrowed his eyes. "Hey, you know you kinda look like a mini James Potter."

"I should hope so!" Harry laughed. "He's my dad."

"Blimey! You serious?" the red-head's eyes were wide as he moved so he was on the edge of the seat. "What's it like?"

"What's what like?"

"Having a famous dad," Ron said, the 'duh' not said but heard anyway.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, tugging on a few strands as he shrugged and gave a lop-sided smile. "What's it like having a normal dad?"

"Boring," Ron rolled his eyes, "I wish I had an auror for a dad. The most interesting thing my dad does is collect muggle stuff."

"Yeah, having an auror for a dad's pretty cool," Harry said and nudged the other's leg with his foot and a small grin, "but you know what's cooler? Helping keep us secret from the muggle world. Think that's a bit more important than taking on a few bad guys, right?" But Ron didn't look convinced. Harry started to reach for his trunk when he realised something. "Oh!"

"What?"

"I left my stuff outside!" Harry leapt to his feet. "I'm just gonna get it, then I'll be right back." He darted out the compartment into the hallway, stumbling as the train rocked from the motion on the tracks before adjusting. He dodged around a student and found his trunk with Hedwig's cage on top, the owl looking displeased he'd apparently left her. "Sorry Hedwig, I didn't mean to leave you behind, I just had to say goodbye. You understand right?"

She hooted and, relieved she wasn't too mad, Harry dragged his stuff back to the compartment. With Ron's help they managed to get his trunk up on the shelf above the seat before settling back on the benches opposite each other, Hedwig's cage resting against the window.

"Thanks," he said, gesturing to his trunk, before sinking back on the bench. A glance outside the window showed they were starting to leave London, the houses less crowded together than they were before. It was going to be a long train ride. "Say -"

He was interrupted by a knock on their compartment door. Turning, Harry saw a toothy old lady, reminding him much of a grandmother, smiling at them.

"Anything off the trolley dears?" Harry brightened. His mother had said he didn't need any food, but he hadn't understood what she meant. Obviously, she had known about this trolley and had just wanted to surprise him. He felt about his pockets for his money, gesturing for Ron to go first.

Only, Ron didn't. Instead he held up some wrapped sandwiches with a grimace.

"No thanks, I'm all set." He didn't look very enthusiastic about it. There was a pause where Harry glanced worriedly at Ron and then looked back at the patient lady.

"We'll take a little of everything." He didn't see Ron gape at him out the corner of his eyes when he pulled out his many galleons and handed them to her, before making sure to get at least two of everything - some for Ron and some for himself. There's so many sweets! He was practically drooling over the vast selection and couldn't resist buying just that little bit more.

With a much lighter trolley, the elderly lady bid them goodbye and then Harry and Ron were alone again. Harry dumped all of his sweets on the seat he'd just been sitting on and went about splitting them in two. Once he'd done that, he picked up Ron's pile and placed them beside him. "Here! This is your pile," he said cheerfully. Only then did he see Ron's awed face and he frowned. "What?"

"How much money do you have?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged.

"I dunno, mum just gave me this bag," he showed Ron the now much lighter bag of money.

"Oh." Ron glanced down at his lap.

"Is something wrong?" Not understanding why the boy had suddenly gone quiet, Harry followed his gaze and realised it must be the sandwich which had him all upset. He eyed it. It had a familiar look that made him want to be sick from memory alone.

"Are you gonna eat that?" he asked.

Ron pulled a face as he held it up. "Mum'll know if I don't."

"Rubbish," Harry said and plucked the sandwich out of Ron's hands. It reminded him of one of the many concoctions Sirius had tried to cook, back when everyone was a little less wise and thought he deserved a chance. As it turned out, not only did he suck at cooking, he was also a latent pyromaniac.

Since then, the house elves hadn't allowed him back in the kitchen.

Ignoring Ron's protest, Harry opened the window and threw it out. It disappeared almost instantly, to either be crushed under the train or eaten by something that could stomach it. "Sorry," he said at Ron's surprised look. "It reminds me of my godfather's cooking, and that stuff's deadly." That drew a laugh out of the boy.

"Are you sure this is all for me?" Ron asked, glancing at his pile that Harry had given him. Harry chewed on his lip.

"If you want, we could just bundle it all together again and eat what we fancy?" he suggested. The compromise seemed to please Ron and so before too long, they were sat on opposite ends of the seat with the pile between them and discussing who had the biggest chocolate frog collection.

"I've got five Albus Dumbledores," Harry said.

"Seven for me," Ron said, "but I've only got two Merlins."

Harry grinned triumphantly. "Ha! I've got four of him!"

"You'd think there'd be loads more wizards to make cards of," Ron said, frowning at his latest card - Andros the Invincible.

"I guess," Harry said as he popped another Bertie Botts bean in his mouth. "There haven't been any new cards for ages have there?"

"Nope," Ron shook his head, "but don't you think it's strange there isn't one of the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"There isn't?" Harry frowned. "I wonder why."

"I reckon a lot of money could be made if they had different versions of him," Ron said. "When he's a baby, or going to Hogwarts, or a teenager, an adult…"

"He's coming this year," Harry said, reminded of what Remus said suddenly.

"What, as a first year?"

"Yup. Maybe that's why there's no cards, 'cause he's a kid like us."

"Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived is not like us," Ron scoffed. "Compared to him we're dirt - well," he amended, shooting a look at Harry. "You're probably just a few layers below him, like concrete, but me? I'm dirt compared to both of you." The red-head stared moodily at the empty chocolate frog packet in his hands.

"That's not true…" Harry bit his lip, but was stopped when their compartment door slid open, making the two boys jump and turn. There was a girl with big bushy hair peering in.

"Excuse me," she said and Harry saw she had large front teeth. She should get them fixed. It wouldn't be hard. "Have you seen a toad? A boy's lost his."

Harry and Ron shared a glance before having a quick look around the compartment. The floor was littered with sweet wrappers, but none of them were moving, so Harry looked back at the girl and shook his head.

"Sorry," he said and the girl sighed. She'd probably been wandering for a really long time. "You're not going to have much luck finding it, you know. If it's gone, it's probably gone for good." Either it got squished, or it jumped off the train – still dead, whatever way. If he had a toad for a pet, he'd have 'accidentally' lost it and pretend to be upset enough Sirius would go out and buy him a new pet, preferably one Harry chose.

"A toad," Ron snickered.

The girl narrowed his eyes at him. "And just what is wrong with having a toad for a pet?"

"You mean besides it's a toad?"

"It wasn't his choice!" the girl said. "It was a gift, or do you expect people to just throw away what they've been given?"

"Well, if it was a toad," Ron muttered and he and Harry shared a grin.

"And just what pet do you have, hm?" the girl crossed her arms over her chest. Ron's cheeks reddened as he scowled at her.

"What does that matter?!"

"I have an owl!" Harry broke in, gesturing to where Hedwig was sleeping in her cage. The girl's frown faded to an awed look.

"She's beautiful," she said.

"Right?" Harry beamed, pleased someone else had noticed how amazing his owl was. Ron had shrugged, like she was just another owl. "Her name's Hedwig. Do you wanna touch her?" but to his surprise, the girl suddenly looked flustered. Her hands gripped hold of the bottom of her robes.

"I – I haven't had much experience with owls," she said. "I wouldn't want to -"

"Hedwig's really nice," he said, leaping over to the other bench and opening her cage. She hooted, a little annoyed at being woken, but climbed out onto his arm anyway. Harry gestured for the girl to come sit next to him, ignoring Ron's huff and glare. "She likes it when you do this, see?" he stroked her plumage, the feathers soft under his fingers.

The girl mimicked his movements, first hesitant but with growing confidence. "She's so soft!" she exclaimed, surprised. Harry nodded and grabbed the owl treats at the top of his bag, in easy access so he'd get them quickly.

"Why don't you feed her?" he said, giving her one of the treats. Hedwig hooted and shifted, eager to have the treat.

"Be careful, owls bite," Ron warned. "It hurts too. I once heard an owl bite off someone's finger."

"What?" she gasped.

Harry hastened to reassure her. "Don't worry, it was reattached." Strangely, the girl didn't look comforted. She started to inch away from Hedwig. "But Hedwig doesn't bite. Well, she bites me, but that's because she loves me." To prove him right, she gave his finger a little nip. "See? Doesn't do any damage though."

"If pets like you, they don't generally bite you mate," Ron said.

"She's just pulling my pigtails, isn't that right girl?" Harry cooed, stroking her again. Hedwig gave a little hoot. At Ron's raised eyebrows, Harry added, "S'what Uncle Remus said she was doing and he'd know. He's the smartest person in the world."

The girl looked back at Hedwig and held the treat in the palm of her hand. Hedwig hopped down Harry's arm, bent over and had it in a flash.

"So quick," the girl said eyes wide.

"She is an owl," Harry reminded. "Loads of people have owls as pets, to deliver post. You should get used to them quickly."

"I see," she murmured before giving a small, shy smile to Harry. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

Harry stuck out his hand and she shook it. Her palm was slightly sweaty. "Harry Potter. That's Ron Weasley over there."

"Don't you have a toad to look for?" The red-head grumbled. He clearly didn't like her very much.

Hermione gasped and leapt to her feet. "That's right! I completely forgot. Oh, I hope Neville's okay," she said and then, at their looks added, "He's the one who lost his toad."

"Neville, as in…?" Harry didn't want to believe it.

"Neville Longbottom, yes," Hermione confirmed and Harry and Ron shared a wide-eyed look. The Boy-Who-Lived had a toad for a pet? "I said I'd look for him. It was easier for me than him anyway as no one knows me."

Ron scoffed and slumped back in his seat. "He's already got people doing his dirty work. Probably hasn't ever had to do anything himself."

"Actually," Hermione said frostily, glaring at the red-head, "I offered. If Neville Longbottom was recognised he wouldn't have the chance to find his pet, too busy being swarmed for being famous. He doesn't even like the attention, by the way," she added just as Ron was going to speak again. "He didn't say why, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that what made him famous also killed his mother."

Ron turned pale at that sentence and Harry felt a little queasy too. He hadn't thought about that, always too focused on Neville surviving the Killing Curse, but his mum had died. The thought of his mum dying… he couldn't even comprehend it.

Hermione looked between the both of them now, softening her tone as she continued, "He really is a kid just like us."

There were still quite a few sweets to be eaten, but Harry suddenly found he wasn't hungry. He glanced at Ron who was now staring out the window, chastened into silence, and then looked back at Hermione. There was only one thing he could see.

"Look, we still have some food here," he said. "Why don't you bring him back to our compartment?"

Hermione brightened, "You don't mind?"

"The more the merrier," Ron muttered. Hermione glanced at him but the red-head avoided her gaze.

"I met a few other first years when I was looking. Should I…?"

"Bring them all here," Harry said, perking up. "First years stick together and all that, right?"

"Right!" Hermione smiled. Just before she left, she hesitated and said to Ron. "Did you know you…?"

At her look he let out a long sigh and glared at her. "Oh what now?!"

"I was just going to tell you you have dirt on your nose, right here," she said tartly and motioned with her finger. Ron scowled and rubbed at it with his sleeve.

"It builds character," Harry snickered.

"Shut up."

"I'll be back soon," Hermione said and then disappeared down the aisle.

Looking around the messy compartment, Harry knew they should try and tidy before the others (and Neville) arrived. After nudging Ron into joining, and putting Hedwig away, they set about picking up the wrappers and stuffing them in a far corner under one of the seats. Turned out a pumpkin pastry had been squished at some point so they just kicked that out into the aisle. The remaining sweets were put on the windowsill for anyone to grab.

There was a knock on the door, but when they looked it wasn't Hermione but a blond boy and girl stood looking rather hesitant.

"Hallo!" Harry greeted them cheerfully. "Did you meet Hermione?"

"The girl with bushy hair?" the girl asked. She had her blonde hair in pigtails and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. At Harry's nod, she smiled. "Yes, she told us to come here."

"More like gave us no choice," the boy grumbled. "That girl is seriously bossy."

"Then sit, sit," Harry urged and the two settled on the seats opposite. "There are some sweets there, if you like. What are your names?"

"Hannah Abbott," the girl said and gestured to the boy. "He's Ernie MacMillan."

"MacMillan?" Harry repeated. That was a pureblood family. Not one of the oldest ones, but well-known and growing in prestige with each generation that kept it pure.

"Ninth generation," Ernie puffed out his chest. Hannah rolled her eyes; obviously it wasn't the first time he'd done it. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be related to that auror, James Potter would you?"

"He's my dad," Harry nodded, grinning at the envious look on Ernie's face. Hannah just looked confused. "I'm Harry and this is Ron Weasley."

"Hullo," Ron said.

"I've heard of the Weasleys," Ernie said. "Did you know people think you're blood traitors?"

"Kinda hard to miss, yeah?" Ron grimaced. "Did you know the MacMillans are thought to be boot-lickers and -"

"So!" Harry clapped his hands together, silencing his friend. "What house does everyone want to be in?" Ron settled back in his seat, glaring at Ernie. Ernie was glaring back and, in the awkward pause, Hannah stepped in.

"I want to be Hufflepuff or Gryffindor," she said, "but I think I'm more Hufflepuff."

"Gryffindor for me," Harry said. "My whole family's been in it."

"Same," Ron grunted. Harry grinned and held up a hand. Ron met it in a high five and Harry turned to Ernie expectantly.

"Slytherin," the boy said.

Thankfully, Hermione arrived back then otherwise Harry might have said something he'd regret. He didn't think he could imagine wanting to be in Slytherin, but from what he'd heard Ron was right in that the MacMillans did everything they could to give themselves a higher status in the wizarding world. They were pretty ambitious.

"You two made it then," Hermione said when she saw Hannah and Ernie, before she took in the compartment. "Wow, it looks much better than it was."

"What, thought we couldn't do it?" Ron demanded.

"I had my doubts about you," Hermione sniffed and settled into the empty seat near the door, next to Hannah. "Come on Neville." And so Harry turned and got his first real look at the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry resolutely tried to push away the disappointment when he saw Neville Longbottom. He told himself that Neville was a kid, just like him, and he wasn't supposed to look heroic or impressive, he was just trying to go through the same process as everybody else was. But it was hard. All his life he'd heard stories about Neville Longbottom. Not from his parents, they had always complained about the hype around him, but from Remus, when he wanted to get Harry and Peter to sleep, and from friends of the family who came 'round every now and then.

Despite his parents' wishes, he had built up a... sort of iconic image about the Boy-Who-Lived and chubby, round-faced Neville Longbottom, with slightly squinty eyes and a stocky body was almost the opposite of what he'd imagined.

"Hullo," the boy said, standing in the door.

Ernie and Hannah, who hadn't been expecting the Boy-Who-Lived, were staring wide-eyed. Harry fought past the disappointment and shuffled up so there was space next to him.

"Neville, come sit here," he patted the empty space. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Thank you for letting us join you," Neville said, moving to where Harry gestured. His voice was very quiet and his eyes kept darting from everyone, obviously nervous. Harry met Hermione's gaze across the room and remembered what she'd said. He's a kid just like us. She had been right. Come to think of it, Neville was probably more nervous than anyone.

Everyone knew him, but did he know anyone?

"Neville Longbottom?" Ernie said, straightening up. Neville nodded and Ernie held out his hand. "Ernie MacMillan. It's good to finally meet you."

"I'm Hannah," Hannah said, still looking a bit dazed but managing a smile.

"Ron Weasley," Ron said, leaning past Harry to look at Neville. "Do you really have the scar?" Harry elbowed Ron, trying to pretend he hadn't just asked the thing Harry had been dying to.

"I told you -" Hermione started with a scowl.

"It's okay," Neville interrupted. "I'm used to it." Then, to Harry's delight, he lifted his fringe and the lightning bolt scar was clear for them all to see. Hannah gasped. Harry, the closest, saw it the best. It was thinner, less obvious than Harry'd imagined, almost looking like it had been drawn on, and much smaller. He'd thought it would cover half of Neville's face, forever a mark of what he'd survived, but it was only on his forehead. Maybe it was easier to hide that way.

"Wicked," Ron breathed, settling himself down on the bench opposite. "Do you remember him? You-Know-Who?"

Neville shook his head. "I don't remember anything about that night. Sorry…"

An awkward silence followed. Harry had never been one for silence, having spent his life in a household that usually had some sort of noise going on, and fidgeted for a few seconds before deciding that he'd start the conversation.

"So, how do you think you'll do against the troll?"

"What troll?" Hermione and Ernie demanded.

"Oh no! I knew I should've listened to Fred and George!" Ron moaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"Troll?" Neville and Hannah looked pale.

"Oops," Harry muttered. I guess asking about the troll wasn't a good idea after all. What if his dad and Sirius weren't meant to tell him? Would they get in trouble for revealing it? He glanced at Ron, the only one not surprised but instead telling himself off, before back to the other four wide-eyed people and shrugged. In for a penny, in for a pound. "It was just something my dad said. You know, about being sorted. You have to... fight a troll," he winced.

"Do you really think so?" Hermione asked, looking worried. "I didn't read much about trolls…"

"I've never heard of that before," Ernie said. "I was told we were taken to the forest and how long it took for us to get out determined what house we were in."

"I've heard of the troll," Ron said, over his mini-meltdown. "My brothers said they'd had to fight one."

"You have brothers at Hogwarts?" Hannah asked. "Wouldn't they know how we're sorted?"

"I just said -" Ron began, sounding annoyed.

"They won't make us fight a troll," Ernie interrupted. "That's too dangerous."

"And going into the forest isn't?" Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "My dad told me about that place. You're not even allowed to go in there there's so many dangerous things."

"I didn't read anything on trolls," Hermione muttered, having pulled out a book and was now flicking through it frantically. Hannah joined her a moment later, reading through whatever Hermione had.

"It's a better test that fighting a troll!"

"Just what is going on here?!" All eyes turned to the compartment door where a Gryffindor stood with a shiny 'PREFECT' badge on the front of his robes. It gleamed in the light as he looked from one face to the next. "I could hear you half-way down the corridor!"

"Percy!" Ron exclaimed. "Back me up here. You fight a troll when you get sorted, right?"

Percy blinked and then sighed. "You've been listening to Fred and George again, haven't you?"

"I -"

"You don't fight a troll," Percy said.

"I knew it," Ernie said smugly. "I knew we had to go into the forest."

"What? Who have you been speaking to?" Percy snorted. "Enter that forest and you'll get a detention, at the very least. You do not go into the forest to be sorted either. Honestly, what a stupid notion." Ernie and Ron were both very red now. Harry looked back and forth from Ron to Percy. This was Ron's brother? They looked... okay, they looked a lot alike, but Percy's hair was a lot redder than Ron's. Not that Ron's was a bright orange, it was just... a dull orange. And harry didn't like the way Percy held himself, like he was better than them.

"My dad told me about the troll," he said.

"Well, I don't know who he was but he was lying," Percy replied with a shake of his head. "The troll is just what people say to scare first years."

"My dad's an auror, he wouldn't -"

"Then how are we sorted?" Hermione asked, still holding her book tightly. Hannah just looked relieved. Harry sank back on his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm not going to tell you," Percy said, "I won't ruin the surprise." At their disappointed looks he added, "But you don't have that much longer to wait. I came to tell you to think about getting changed into your robes. We'll be at Hogwarts sooner than you think." He turned to Ron. "I hope to see you at the Gryffindor table later." With a nod to them all, he turned and left.

"I'm glad we're not fighting a troll," Hannah said into the silence. "That would be really scary!"

"I guess having an auror for a dad's not all that good after all," Ernie said, looking at Harry. Harry felt his cheeks warm.

"At least fighting a troll made more sense than going into the forest."

"I'm just pleased a prefect came along and told us we were wrong," Hermione interrupted.

"Yeah, Perfect Percy," Ron scoffed.

"It's good to be a prefect!"

"You would say that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione demanded. Sensing the beginning of an argument, Harry inched away from the two hot-heads. It seemed no matter what they said, Hermione and Ron weren't going to get along. Neville shifted next to him and, for the first time, Harry remembered he was there.

Ignoring the bickering duo, he turned to the other boy. "You're pretty quiet, aren't you?"

Neville blinked. "W-well, I…"

"Not that I blame you. We didn't exactly give you a chance to speak did we?" Harry grinned. "So what house does the great Boy-Who-Lived want to be in?"

"Everyone expects me to be a Gryffindor," Neville said.

Harry clapped him on the shoulder. "Sweet! You'll be with me and Ron then. We're gonna be Gryffindors too."

"You're really confident," Neville stared at him.

"I don't have a choice, really. Everyone in my family's been a Gryffindor, so they want me to be one too. If I'm not they're gonna have problems. If I'm a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff I'll probably be alright, but Slytherin -" he dragged a finger across his neck. "So I'm just telling myself I'm going to be a Gryffindor and that's that."

Neville's eyes widened and then he looked out the window.

"I wish I was that confident," he said. "The whole world expects me to be a Gryffindor, but my family doesn't. My dad wants me too, but I don't know if – if I will," he shrugged under Harry's incredulous look. "I'm not very brave."

Harry nudged him in the side gently, "Well, you've got nothing to be afraid of," he said, using his practised technique of sounding confident when he wasn't. "I bet you'll end up in the right house for you and whether or not it's Gryffindor, you'll do brilliantly. Haters gonna hate, remember."

"What?"

"It's what Sirius – he's my godfather – said to me. People are always gonna hate, so just ignore them," Harry laughed. Neville finally broke into a smile too.

"Thank you," he said. "Sirius, as in Sirius Black?"

"Yeah, he's dad's best friend. He's over all the time," Harry nodded. "He's really cool."

"He looks kind of scary," Neville said.

"He does?" Harry frowned. He'd never thought Sirius was anything but friendly. "He's not. He's funny and smart and, yeah, he does really stupid things. He can't cook, he kind of blew up our kitchen when he tried. He sneaked me out on his motorcycle once. Mum went ballistic but it was worth it," he grinned.

"Don't people expect you to be like him? And your parents?"

"Huh?"

Neville turned to him. "Everyone knows James Potter and Sirius Black are really powerful. They've taken on lots of criminals that other people tried and walked away with only a few scratches. And your mum – she's a Charms mistress, isn't she?"

"So?"

"Don't they expect you to follow their example? That you have to be as good as them?"

Harry shrugged. His family had never pushed anything on him, not that he remembered. His mum and Remus, and Sirius and his dad when they were around, had tried to keep them separate from the exposure that came with his dad's job. He was always told to be himself.

"Not from them," he said. "They just want me to be myself." Wasn't that was Remus had said on the platform? "I bet your family only wants the same."

"I wish…" Neville sighed.

"Oy, Harry," Ron said, having finished arguing with Hermione, and Harry turned to him. "Hannah collects cards too."

"Really?" Harry turned to her and she nodded with a wide smile.

"Yeah, 'course," she said. "Ernie does too, he just doesn't like to admit it," she added on in a stage-whisper. Harry laughed at Ernie's glare. "What about you, Neville? Do you collect chocolate frog cards?" she turned to him.

"No, I don't," he said. "Gran didn't allow it. She said I had better things to do with my time."

"Oh," Hannah's smile faded. "Yeah, I suppose you would... I guess collecting chocolate frog cards is kind of silly, isn't it?" she looked at her hands.

"He didn't mean that Hannah," Hermione leapt in. "That's what his Gran said. Do you want to collect cards Neville?"

Neville stared at her, wide-eyed. "I..."

"She never allowed you to?" Harry realised and shook his head. "Criminal. Here, I have loads of duplicates," he rummaged around his bag. "Do you want to start? It's really easy."

"I think I have a spare chart," Hannah piped up, reassured Neville hadn't been insulting her and she'd just misunderstood. "Let me see if I can find it."

"You don't have to -" Neville began.

"Believe me, mate, it's lots of fun." Ron said and Ernie nodded. "Once you start - bam, you can't ever stop." They shared a surprised look at being in agreement, but chocolate frog cards could soothe even the most ruffled feathers. "How many have you got then?" Ron challenged.

"Sixty seven," Ernie said.

"Ha! I've got seventy four."

And thus, as the sky darkened and a platform appeared in the dusky light, Harry felt that the first train couldn't have gone much better than this. He just hoped things would be just as fun all his time at Hogwarts.