A/N: Well, here's the next part. It'll be a long one, be warned; I'm trying to cover the whole of chapter six with this, and there's quite a bit that's different. There will be scene break lines in between the points where the story follows the normal text. Let's get going, right as Harry asks Mrs. Weasley for help. As always, point of divergence is in bold.

Now, some people might think I plagiarized in this chapter, so let me try to head them off now. I used a scene which, although I originally believed I came up with on my own, I have since been told is extremely similar to one from another (amazing) story, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality. When I wrote this scene I didn't have that story in mind at all, but upon reflection I was inspired by it to write Neville going to the prefect's carriage. Therefore, I offer an apology, a thank you to limping llama, and a pointer to HP&MoR, as it is in fact very good.

Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationalityis right here: s/5782108/1/Harry_Potter_and_the_Methods_of_Rationality

And can also be found at hpmor dot com, where you can read the full story, or download a PDF, ePub, or Mobi version of the story.

"Excuse me," Harry said to the plump woman.

"Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts?" Ron's new, too."

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is – the thing is, I don't know how to-"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop -"

"Thank you," Harry interrupted. He still had ten minutes left, and he wanted to learn about these people, know that he knew how to get to the platform. He would spend a little time talking to them and board in a few minutes. "What's your name?"

"Molly Weasley," the red-haired woman said. "This is my son Ron, and my daughter, Ginny."

"I'm Harry – Harry Potter," he said. Immediately, Ginny squealed and hid behind her mother. That wouldn't do; even if he had defeated a dark wizard, he had been one at the time. Surely, it was a coincidence, and the same thing would have happened with any other baby, all else being the same. Thinking quickly, Harry formed a plan to get Ginny to stop being in awe of him. It was probably a good idea anyway, and besides, he really did want to know.

"Ginny?" he called, and she peeked around her mother. "I… well, I didn't grow up in the wizarding world. There's probably loads of stuff I don't know that you do, and I probably need to know most of it to function in society. Would you… would you write to me, and teach me that stuff? I'll write back about Hogwarts," he added.

Ginny gaped at him, open-mouthed, as did her mother. "What?" he asked, pretending not to know why. "It's true." Ginny finally nodded wordlessly.

"Great!" Harry exclaimed. "I'd better get to the platform now, the train leaves in five minutes." He rolled his trolley over to the barrier and pushed gently. There was a moment of resistance, then his cart slipped through the barrier, just seeming to disappear as it entered the stone. Watching his arms disappear was creepy, but Harry refused to close his eyes. Then again, the speed with which he hastened through the barrier was not entirely due to fear of being seen walking into a brick wall.

He looked around. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, Eleven O'Clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it.

"Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

Harry leaned out, trying to see what was going on, but he couldn't see the Weasley family.

"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"

"Yes," came Ginny's voice, smugly. "Harry Potter, and I'm going to be his pen-pal."

Harry could only imagine the looks on the twins' faces until they burst out laughing, and one of them said "Good one, Gin-gin…"

"It's not one of your jokes," he heard Mrs. Weasley snap. "Harry asked her to write to him about wizarding traditions and things like that, since he was raised as a muggle."

"Well, never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

Their mother suddenly became very stern. "I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school."

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the

train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and

their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"George!"

"Only joking, Mom."

The train began to move. Harry saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved. Harry watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a great leap of excitement. He didn't know what he was going to but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy

came in. "Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full." Harry shook his head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Harry saw he still had a black mark on his nose.

"Hey, Ron." The twins were back.

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

"Right," mumbled Ron.

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

"Bye," said Harry and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut

behind them.

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

Harry nodded.

"Oh – I thought it might be a joke, like Fred and George always do," said Ron. "And have you really got – you know…" He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared.

"So that's where You-Know-Who…"

"Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.

"Well - I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him.

"Er - yes, I think so," said Ron. "Well, I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already, right? Or do you not get wands and stuff until your eleven too?"

"Some people get wands early, but you're not allowed to do magic out of school," Ron said. "Not 'till your of age, anyway. I heard you went to live with Muggles. What're they like?"

"Horrible -well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

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

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

He began to leave, but Harry was struck by an idea and called "Wait!" the boy turned hopefully. "The prefect's car is at the front of the train," Harry told him. "You should ask one of them for help." The boy nodded thankfully and left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway…" He had just raised his 'wand when the compartment door slid open again.

The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron. "And we sent him off to the prefects. What're you going around the train again for?"

"He said that it wasn't a prefect's job to find missing pets," said the boy – Neville – tearfully.

Harry's eyebrows narrowed. "What were the colors on his robes?" he demanded.

"Er…" said Neville. "Red and gold, I think."

"But those are Gryffindor colors!" the bushy-haired girl protested.

"And that matters?" Harry snapped angrily. "Come on, Neville. I'm sure they won't deny the Boy-Who-Lived help." He left the compartment with Neville in tow, as Hermione trailed behind, still protesting that a Gryffindor prefect wouldn't do that.

Harry returned to the compartment shortly afterwards, alone. "What happened?" Ron demanded immediately.

"Well, first Neville pointed out the prefect who refused to help him, and it was your brother," Harry said, settling into his seat once more. Ron look annoyed but not entirely surprised.

"Of course, who else? Percy's very strict about his duty. I bet he said," and here Ron assumed an exaggerated straight-backed posture similar to Percy's, "'A prefect's duties include finding lost items, but lost pets are the student's own responsibility.'" Harry was quite impressed; Ron had gotten down to the word. "Then what happened?"

"well, he – Percy, you said his name was? Percy refused to help me, too, so I asked a Ravenclaw prefect," Harry said brightly. "He didn't even look up, just cast something at Neville, who seemed to know where his toad was. After he found it – went straight there, too, I really want to learn that spell – Hermione and I went back to our compartments. She seemed to have something on her mind," he added.

"Who's Hermione?" Ron asked, confused.

"The bushy-haired girl who was helping Neville. Did you know that it's possible to train yourself to a nearly photographic memory? Because she did."

"What's a photographic memory?" Ron was very impressed after Harry explained. "I wish I could do that," he said wistfully. "It would make school easy, I'm sure… anyway, what's your Quidditch team?"

"Er – I don't know any," Harry confessed.

"What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the

world -" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Harry through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time.

Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once; it was the pale boy from the robe shop, Draco. "Hallo, Draco," Harry said brightly.

"Hey Harry," he said. "This is Crabbe and Goyle." The boy gestured to the tree trunks – to the boys, Harry mentally corrected himself – on either side of him. Draco glared at Ron. "No need to ask who you are, though. My father told me that all the Weasley's have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." Ron turned as red as his hair and seemed to lose his voice.

"Please don't insult my friends, Draco," Harry requested. "After all, I'm not insulting your friends, and I can think of some choice ones."

"Yeah," said Ron, still red, "now go away, Malfoy."

"I'm not going to force him to leave, Ron," Harry said.

"WHAT?" Ron blurted, as Draco watched with amusement. "Don't you know who this is?"

"Yes Ron," Harry said dryly. "In case you didn't notice, I called him by his name without being introduced."

Malfoy reentered the conversation. "As fascinating as this may be, Weasley," he drawled, "I need to speak to future Lord Potter." He stepped outside, clearly expecting Harry to follow. After he did, Draco continued. "You'll soon find out that some families are much better than others. I can help you there." He held out his hand to shake Harry's.

Harry considered this quickly. He didn't want to alienate Ron, who seemed like a decent fellow, and if he took Draco's offer than he would almost certainly lose the possibility of Ron's friendship. But he also wanted to be friends with Draco, and rejecting the offer would also be unwise. Draco did seem to be a bit more mature than Ron, though; maybe he would take it better? No, on reflection, the best choice would be some sort of middle ground. If only there was one… ah!

"Don't take this the wrong way, Draco," Harry said politely, "but I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself. I wouldn't say no to some lessons on the noble houses, though; you know, the whole future Lord thing and that stuff."

Draco shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'll see you at school, we can work out a time for me to tell you about that then, okay?" Harry nodded, and Draco turned to go.

"How can you stand that git!" Ron complained the moment the door closes. He had clearly heard everything.

"I don't know which house I'll be in yet and I'm rather not be mortal enemies with someone I'll be sleeping in the same room as for seven years," Harry said reasonably. "Besides, it's always better to be polite."

"I suppose," Ron said uncertainly. "But be warned that there's no hope for me being friends with a Malfoy, our families have a blood feud with each other.'

Before Harry could respond, though, a voice echoed through the train. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

A/N: That's it for this chapter, which is far longer than I'd planned.