A/N: I know I'm early to update, and I would apologise if I thought that anyone would object. I've been having a weird day, not in a good way, and I just want to take my mind off things. Any Australian readers will understand what I mean when I say that this is not a fun place to be listening to the news at the moment--extensive flooding in Queensland and extensive fires in New South Wales and Victoria. The rest of you I won't bore with details. I hope that you enjoy this chapter, and please review, I really need cheering up at the moment. Cinnamon.

Disclaimer: But naturally I own Harry Potter. However could you doubt it?...You called me a lying what!?

On The Hogwarts Express

"Mum, can't I go..." Ginny was whining, but Ron ignored her. Harry had shown up not long after this. He looked around, careful not to show that he was looking for someone in particular.

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right Percy, you go first."

There. Harry stood behind them, and a little off to one side, watching them uncertainly. Geez, he was tiny. For the first time Ron began to understand his mum's need to fuss and coo over Harry whenever he came to stay with them. He seemed so vulnerable, and Ron supposed that he had been, really. His own shyness had hidden it from him the first time though.

"Ron, what're you—? Oh," Ginny murmured, following his gaze to Harry. Before Ron could realise his mistake or stop her she had darted off towards him. Damn.

Ron watched with alarm as Ginny, with none of the shyness she used to display around Harry, marched right up to him and introduced herself.

"Hi, I'm Ginny."

"Harry." He was watching her a little warily, as though expecting her to bite.

"Fred, you next."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George. Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred."

"You're Muggle-born, aren't you?" Ron heard Ginny asking.

"Muggle-raised. My mum was Muggle-born, and her family raised me after she and Dad—" Harry broke off sharply, and Ginny, with rare tact, disregarded the last part of his little speech entirely.

"Well, don't worry about getting onto the platform, it's easy..."

"Ron, your turn," his mother prompted, and he realised he'd missed George going through the barrier. He walked through, worried about the change of events he'd just witnessed. That wasn't supposed to happen, not yet.

-x-

The scene on the platform with his family remained much as he had remembered it, and Ron was once again hit by a wave of nostalgia. This was ridiculous. He had spent most of his life watching the twins tormenting people, and it had driven him insane. It should at least be annoying him now.

"Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we met on the train?" Fred demanded.

"You know that black-haired boy who was talking to Ginny in the station? Know who he is?" George asked, almost bouncing with excitement.

"Who?"

"Harry Potter!" the twins chorused, delighted by their revelation. Ron glanced at Ginny, hoping to see the familiar expression of hero-worship cross her face, but she merely looked surprised, and a little thoughtful.

Double damn. From now on he would have to be a lot more careful not to change things.

-x-

Ron slid open the door to Harry's compartment and went in.

"Anyone else sitting there? Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head, and Ron sat down, trying to act convincingly shy around someone that he'd known for years.

"Hey, Ron."

The twins.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train—Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," he mumbled.

"Harry, did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," the two of them said, watching as the twins left. Now, what had he said next? Ah.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" he blurted out.

The conversation that followed was quite painful to Ron. Had he really been this silly? He was fairly sure that he wasn't projecting nearly enough shyness and awe, but that was probably a good thing, overall. Harry looked awkward enough as it was.

They didn't really regain their old camaraderie until after the food trolley had arrived.

"They're not really frogs, are they?" Harry asked, eying the pack of Chocolate Frogs with great trepidation.

"No, but see what the card is, I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

So Ron explained Chocolate Frog cards to Harry for the second time, and watched as he got the Dumbledore card which would later provide the key to learning about the Philosopher's Stone.

"He's gone!" Harry exclaimed suddenly, and the look on his face was so comical that Ron had to work hard to keep from laughing. Surely watching Harry discovering the wizarding world hadn't been this entertaining last time? All he remembered was thinking that it was a bit weird having to explain stuff that was so obvious.

-x-

It was considerably later in the day that Neville interrupted. Ron reminded himself that he had never seen Neville before in his life.

"Sorry," Neville said, "but have you seen a toad at all?" They shook their heads. "I've lost him!" he wailed. "He keeps getting away from me!"

That had certainly been true, Ron reflected, struggling to maintain a sympathetic face while Harry assured him that the errant Trevor would return.

After Neville had left, Ron forced himself to enact the farce involving a fake spell the twins had given him and Scabbers. He was still having a great deal of difficulty treating Scabbers as he always had rather than throwing him out the window of the moving train as he wished. He suspected that only the reflection that someone as slippery as Peter Pettigrew would be bound to survive the fall prevented that particular course of action.

He had just raised his wand when Hermione barged in with Neville in tow. Ron had forgotten how ridiculous her teeth had looked before she got them shrunk in fourth year.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she announced. Ron didn't bother responding; she hadn't listened to him the first time anyway. Sure enough:

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

"Er—all right." He refrained from rolling his eyes. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." Nothing happened.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione asked. "Well, it's not a very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells for practise and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard—I've learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough—I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

"Ron Weasley," said Ron, reminding himself that she had improved with age.

"Harry Potter," Harry responded, looking shell-shocked and more than a little worried.

"Are you really?" Hermione asked, although it was more of a statement. "I know all about you, of course—I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" Harry asked, still looking a bit dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad...Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better go change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

Ron leant back against his seat, exhausted. He didn't even have the energy to try to remember what he'd said after her departure last time. Not that it seemed to matter; Harry was searching frantically through his trunk, and Ron wondered a little fatalistically what he had changed this time, and how.

The what was easily enough answered, as Harry pulled out his textbooks and began to read intently, evidently determined to absorb as much information as possible in the minimum amount of time. The how seemed destined to remain a mystery.

Harry had just finished skimming One Thousand magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore and had moved on to The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble when the compartment door slid open once more to admit Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

"Is it true?" Malfoy asked. "They're saying down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," Harry responded, lowering the book, although he didn't seem to be looking at Malfoy but rather at Crabbe and Goyle. Ron realised that he had never before been treated to their talented impersonation of rocks.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," Malfoy said, apparently noticing Harry's curiosity. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron frowned. So far the exchange had been fairly civil; granted, Harry had only spoken one word, but there was more shyness than hostility in the way he was watching the three future Slytherins. What exactly had caused the enmity between them in the first place?

"And I'm Harry, Harry Potter." Ron was jerked out of his reverie, shocked, as Harry and Malfoy shook hands. Harry flushed ever so slightly. "But you already knew that. This is my friend, Ron Weasley," he added.

Malfoy's face grew slightly colder, but he inclined his head politely enough in Ron's direction.

"Weasley."

"Malfoy." What had changed? Nothing right up until Malfoy had introduced himself...

With slight embarrassment Ron remembered his own poorly concealed snigger of amusement at the name "Draco", and Malfoy's subsequent attack on his family.

That had caused six years of bitter hatred and rivalry?

Apparently so, because by the time Hermione returned again Harry and Malfoy were seated side by side opposite Ron, with Crabbe and Goyle flanking them.

This time she didn't come inside the compartment after seeing how many boys were seated there, and Ron was a little ashamed about the wave of relief that washed through him. She really had been quite intolerable.