August 1996

Harry stood in the middle of Ollivander's wand shop, barely managing to hold on to his newly acquired holly and phoenix feather wand as it released yet another tornado of abyssal darkness. A gaping chasm ripped the floor in half, unleashing a stream of fire into the shop, setting the surroundings ablaze. The front window exploded into pieces, and soon most of Diagon Alley was filled with impenetrable hellish blackness and echoing with the screams of the damned, as well as the desperate cries of countless children who were convinced they'd never see another Christmas.

Over the last five years, Harry had accomplished several truly amazing feats of magic with his cherry wood and dragon heartstring wand he'd bought in southern France during his first week abroad, but he'd always felt as if something was lacking. Now he knew what.

"I CAN FEEL THE OVERPOWEREDNESS FLOW THROUGH ME!" the prodigiously proficient potterer yelled with the exuberance of the batshit insane.

"Holy fuck, I think there's an earthquake on the way," his secret uncle shouted through the noise, doing his best not to get swept up by one of the tornadoes and flung into the heavens, never to be seen again.

After a few more terrifying seconds, the singularity stopped as suddenly as it had started. Ollivander repaired the entirety of Diagon Alley, his shop and his numerous broken bones with a single wordless flick of his wand, thereby proving that he wasn't human.

"I believe we have found your match, Mister Potter," the ancient man calmly stated, as if all of this had been just another Tuesday to him, even though it was Wednesday.

"I predict you'll surprise the populace of Magical Britain on a regular basis," he went on. "This is most curious however, for not only does this wand share a phoenix with the one that gave you your fabled scar, it also was a special commission by Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, High Chancellor of Rivendell and Supreme Wugglebump of the International Council of Werewolves. Most curious indeed... "

Harry and The Uncle narrowed their eyes at each other.

"Well that's not suspicious at all, is it?" they muttered in perfect sync.

Almost a month later, Harry was sitting alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, nearly bursting with excitement. Finally he'd get the full Hogwarts Experience. During his gruelling training under The Uncle's ever watchful eye, he'd gone from abused orphan to archmage of a rarely seen before caliber, and he couldn't wait to rub it in everyone's faces. Especially Dumbledore's.

Saying his goodbyes to the man who'd done so much for him hadn't been easy, but it wasn't like he would never see him again. Furthermore, while The Uncle seemed to understand Harry on a level that had made him wonder more than once if they might be two versions of the same person, he was a hard taskmaster and had the annoying tendency of amusing himself at Harry's expense on a regular basis.

I can't believe he managed to avoid going to Gringotts again, Harry thought. He'd really wanted to finally try "the thing" on the goblins, but somehow The Uncle always seemed to have just enough cash on him to make such a trip unnecessary. Even Harry randomly deciding to buy the newest Firebolt model hadn't blindsided the man. Ah well, maybe he'd manage to visit the pesky critters during Christmas break.

Harry grabbed his sixth year transfiguration textbook from his barely enlarged single-compartment magical trunk and was about to begin a session of knowledge-refreshing, when he was interrupted by the door of his compartment opening, letting in two identical redheads. They wore vaguely evil grins and seemed one or two years above the maximal recommended Hogwarts age.

"Harry Potter!" they chorused in eerie sync.

"So the rumours-" the first one began.

"-weren't lying!" the other continued. Harry had a very bad feeling about where this was going to go.

"The legendary-"

"-Boy Who-Lived-"

"-slayer-"

"-of dark lords-"

"-and dragon lords-"

"-finally-"

"-graces us-"

"-with his-"

"-p-"

"-r-"

"-e-"

"-s-"

"Mother of Godric, please stop, you're going to destroy my mind!" Harry pleaded, his eyes wide.

"-ence," the second twin finished. Harry wanted to stab something, possibly himself.

"You may refer to us as Degree and Frog, Britain's number one connoisseurs of all things candylicious," the first twin proudly declared, displaying generous amounts of mock pomposity. "May we offer you a few samples of our newest creations as a welcoming gift, Mister Potter?"

Ohohoho, so that's what they're doing, Harry thought. He activated his word- and wandless detecting magic and scanned the bag of colourful treats Frog was brandishing. Noticing multiple high level pranking enchantments, Harry pointed an accusing finger at them.

"Fools!" he proclaimed as theatrically as he could, "You weren't ready for my skill. This candy is full of admittedly expert pranking magick. Nothing escapes the son of Prongs!"

They stared at him in total flabbergastationment.

"Son of...Prongs?" Degree choked out. Tears of joy were beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. "Godric's galloping gargoyles!"

"Helga's horny honeybadgers!" Frog rallied.

"Rowena's rambunctious rhinoceroses!"

"Salazar's sneer-adorned snobs!"

"Could it be?!"

"We're not worthy, we're not worthy," they cried, rolling around on the floor and straight out of the compartment. On their way out, they threw a piece of nondescript parchment at Harry, who avidly picked it up, having heard many stories from The Uncle about the only Potter heirloom Dumbledore hadn't managed to steal.

He didn't have time to check it's authenticity though, because another visitor entered his compartment just at this moment.

"Uh, I, uuuh, sorry, uhm," the insecure looking boy stammered. He seemed to be about Harry's age. "Have you seen my toad?"

Harry took one look at him and immediately knew that this had to be the Longbottom heir. Longbottoms were famous for unleashing their massive potential in spectacular feats of heroism and being utterly useless before that. Harry decided to declare his alliance to him on the spot, as it was bound to come in handy sooner or later. He ejected himself from his seat with all the force he could muster, making Longbottom jump into a wall.

"Accio toad!" he intonated imperilously.

A whole swarm of poor innocent toads were ripped from their homes in the wilderness and flung through the window of the Hogwarts Express, even though said window was closed. No one could withstand the power of a Potter on a mission.

"M-Merlin's underwear, Harry," Longbottom hyperventilated, clearly recognizing the Boy-Who-Lived for who he was after this demonstration of power, "don't scare me like that, I almost died."

Indeed, the last scion of Longbottom seemed to be about to reach his fear-induced ebullition point. Another toad came flying into the compartment, this time through the door.

"Well, at least you found Trevor, so thanks for that," the slightly pudgy, potential-filled and walnut-orbed blonde ball of aristocratic nerves said, grabbing his toad and recombobulating himself. "I'll totally take your side in the Wizengamot and stuff once I'm of age."

Then he left. Harry made another attempt at opening his transfiguration textbook, but it wasn't meant to be. His compartment was intruded upon by another young man, looking even richer and blonder than the previous one.

Harry's newest visitor sneer-smiled at him in a way that tried to be unsettling.

"Well, well, well, look who finally deigned to show up."

Harry decided he didn't like whoever this was. Probably a Malfoy, going by the description The Uncle had given him.

"Luckily for you, I come in peace," Malfoy grandly declared, puffing up his chest like a turkey during mating season. "My illustrious father has decided to bestow upon you an offer of alliance, coming with a yearlong No Backstabbing Clause, no less. Thus, I hereby formally invite you to come over to my compartment and have a look at my ever-growing collection of pureblood acquaintances."

He tried to punctuate this offer with a winning aristocratic smile, but it ended up coming across as a warped version of a saucy wink. The guy's lacking skill at sounding pretentious despite using complicated wording didn't endear him to Harry either.

"When you say your illustrious father, are you per chance talking about Lucius Malfoy?" Harry asked, piercing the poncy pureblood's armor with a single well-aimed question.

"Lucius 'Luscious Lucius' Malfoy?" Harry mercilessly went on. "Lucius 'I was totally imperiused' Malfoy?"

"I think you meant Lucius 'will definitely hear about this' Malfoy, you fucking prick," Malfoy spat, dropping his facade without hesitating. "No one can say I didn't try my absolute hardest. If you'd rather have me as an enemy, so be it."

He proceeded to poutingly leave the compartment. Harry sent the toads after him.

Before he could even think about picking up his textbook again, his compartment was invaded by a pugfaced girl.

"Seven hells," Harry frustratedly erupted, "I just want to read my fucking book!"

The girl raised a sneer-implying eyebrow at him.

"Well excuuuuuuse me, princess," she sarcasticated, "I was just looking for my ferret. I won't steal your precious reading time for longer than necessary, as I would get polluted by your clearly half-blooded presence anyway."

"Oh, that one," Harry said, ignoring her attempt at an insult. "He left not even a minute ago, just follow the frog noises."

She left without thanking him. Harry repaired the still broken window, and waited ten seconds. Then he carefully extended a hand towards his transfiguration textb-

"Oi mate, have you seen my rat?"

"I give up," Harry sighed, before addressing the tall redhead who'd just entered his compartment. "Also I'm not doing another summoning charm, I just repaired the window."

"Now why the hell didn't I think of that," the other boy muttered. "Accio Scabbers!"

Soon after, the ugliest rat Harry had ever seen flew through the door, followed by a girl wielding a prefect badge and hair that filled about half of the compartment.

"Oh my God, are you doing M-A-G-I-C?" she squealed. "Let's see it then!"

"Merlin, 'mione," the redhead sighed. Harry noticed he was also wearing a prefect badge. "Are you really going to keep doing this every year?"

"Damn right I will, Ronald," the girl named Mione replied, "It never fails to yield entertaining results. And don't call me 'mione."

"Sure thing, 'moine."

The girl apparently not named Mione closed her eyes for a second, visibly trying not to destroy everything around her. Harry decided to honour her request before she changed her mind and blasted them all to shreds. He pointed his wand at the rat and intoned "Homorphus!"

The ugly rodent transformed itself into an even uglier man, shocking everyone into silence. Longbottom, who had trailed after the girl and hadn't been noticed so far, fainted.

"...is that Peter Pettigrew?" Harry wondered, anticipating mucho sweet revenge.

"Holy shitting fuck!" Peter screeched and jumped through the window.

"Dammit, I just repaired that," Harry sighed, unbreaking the window once more. "Whatever, doesn't seem like I'll get to read in peace today, so we might as well introduce ourselves. I'm Harry."

"I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione Granger said, taking a seat next to the window. She pointed at the redhead. "This is my fellow prefect Ronald Weasley, although he mostly goes by Ron. The unconscious boy in the corner is Neville Longbottom. That was some impressive magic, Harry!"

"Yeah, thanks for that, mate," Ron said, sitting down next to her. "I can't believe my rat was a creepy bald bloke, I have to eat to distract myself."

He unpacked several mountains of sandwiches from somewhere and began inhaling them at record speed. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"I'll never get over your eating habits, Ron. I just can't imagine it's healthy."

"Yeah, sorry," Ron addressed Harry with an embarrassed shrug, "I fell into a barrel full of magical trunk expansion enchantments when I was a baby, my metabolism hasn't been the same ever since. I'm basically a magical trunk myself."

"I get the part about having to eat a lot," Hermione said while Harry stared at Ron in fascination, "but do you really have to do it that fast?"

"I don't have to, but I want to, Mia," Ron replied, devouring another two sandwiches in two seconds.

"Don't call me Mia, Ronald."

"Sure thing, Maya."

"Please don't kill everyone," Harry pleaded, worriedly watching Hermione's increasing scowliness. Thankfully, they were distracted by the arrival of two more witches into their compartment. The first one had hair that was about as red as a carrot on fire, the other was blonde and seemed to keep her mind in an entirely different plane of existence.

"Can we sit here?" the carrot witch asked, "Everywhere else was full... of assholes."

"Sure, why not," Hermione said, calming herself once again. "Hi Ginny, hi Luna. This is Harry."

"Blessings of the snorkack upon thee, Most Exalted One," Luna addressed Harry. Then her eyes went white and she uttered several unintelligible prophecies, before collapsing next to Neville. Everyone politely ignored this.

Ginny took a seat next to Harry.

"Is it true that you were hunting vampires in Romania when you were eight years old?" she asked him with a look of fangirlish adoration.

"Actually," he replied, "I was getting punched with a sharpened frying pan by my uncle at that age."

"Ha!" Hermione triumphantly exclaimed, pointing a victorious finger at Ginny and satisfiedly smiling the smirk of the smugly superior, "I told you those books were lying. That's the kind of nonsense you'd find in the Quibbler."

Luna interrupted her sleep to hiss and spit a stream of liquid flame at Hermione, setting her hair ablaze. The bushy-haired fountain of knowledge casually put the fire out and regrew her locks without missing a beat.

"I was hunting nundus in Africa with my secret other uncle when I was twelve, though," Harry said, bracing himself for another one of Hermione's rage fits. Ginny joined Neville and Luna in unconsciousness, the image of her childhood hero being that badass clearly proving too much for her.

Hermione closed her eyes and counted to five. Then, with an over-exaggerated huff, she unpacked one of her books and took a large bite out of it.

"Uuuuuuhm," Harry uuuuuuhmed. He hadn't seen that one coming.

"I'm a bookworm, Harry," Hermione explained between two bites. "We're a separate species from humans, surviving and gathering knowledge by consuming literature."

Harry looked at her in amazement while she continued her meal. Book eating aliens. That is so fucking hot.

His improper thoughts were interrupted by Ron.

"Wait, when you said your name was Harry, you meant you were Harry Potter?!"

At the end of the train ride, Harry wept a single manly tear as he realised that, now that his globetrotting days were over, this merry bunch of maniacs would be the first friends he'd keep for more than two weeks. He felt confident that things would only go further uphill from here.