AN: Poll, Please post on reviews with your answer. Should I post one chapter at a time for as long as it takes to get the story out, or should I post the entire Hogwarts year at a time, then take a few months off posting, while I write the entirety of the next year? If I don't get sufficient votes, I will make the decision my oneself.

Chapter 03:

The Sun was setting when the couple finally left the bank. It took hours to wade through all the paperwork to claim the vaults, and they were both quite hungry. After a delicious chicken dinner, they left the cauldron, using a port key to return to their home, a six hundred year old ocean front french villa. The building sat just yards from the beach, on fifty acres of land, including a Quidditch pitch, magical wildlife stocked forest, and Hedwig's hand tended rose garden. The interior was just as loved and tended, as every piece of furniture was hand picked by the couple as they made the house into a home.

Two days later, the sun rose on a cold September the first morning. Dragging himself out of the warm bed, and away from the even warmer human Hedwig, it was almost enough to make him rethink everything coming. Feeling his emotions through their familiar bond, she looked up at him standing over her. "What's wrong, honey?"

"Why are we doing this? I can gain my mastery in every class Hogwarts offers, and some they don't, yet I'm supposed to go play a first year?"

"Because everyone's expecting an eleven year old Harry Potter to attend Hogwarts this year. If you don't, it'll cause mass panic and a world wide man hunt for you. Plus if half of what we've heard about Minister Fudge is true, the second you don't show up, he'll try to claim the Potter fortune for himself. And we both know it doesn't matter how much money we have, the money your parents and ancestors made will always be special to you."

Harry sighed heavily. "That guy is such a tool, trying to take my wizengamot seats. Just because no one claimed them for a few hundred years, doesn't mean he has any right to them."

"Five hundred and fifty eight." Hedwig corrected.

"Whatever." Harry grumbled, climbing back into the bed, wrapping his arms and legs around her. "So warm..."

"Get up, you lazy git. You need to get ready to go. We still have to turn off the ward tap at the Dursley's." Hedwig pushed him away from her, laughing hard as he flailed his arms about, and fell off the edge of the bed.

"Ow!" he leapt up grimacing. "And why aren't you getting up?"

"I'm going to be an owl riding on your shoulder. I don't think anyone will care if my hair isn't thoroughly combed."

"Cheater." Harry grumbled as he headed into the attached bathroom.

An hour later the couple port-keyed to the park near number four privet drive, then walked back to his relatives house. Hedwig riding his shoulder as an owl, they silently slipped up the stairs. The blood ward tap was quickly disabled, then Harry headed downstairs carrying Hedwig in a transfigured cage.

"Uncle Vernon, you said you would take me to the train station today, so I could get to school."

His uncle was quickly turning red. "Don't tell me what I said, boy. I'll take you when I'm good and ready."

"Aright. Train leaves at eleven, so we still have time yet." His uncle just grunted in response, ignoring Harry further. He turned and headed back up the stairs. The moment he entered his room, his uncle was shouting for him to hurry up. "I swear he just waited to give himself a reason to yell." He muttered to Hedwig as he headed down the stairs again.

Harry carefully loaded Hedwig's cage into the back seat, and climbed in after her. He hated keeping her in a cage, but would have to when around his uncle. The entirety of the ride he was going to be stuck next to his obese cousin who was being taken into London to get the tail removed, before he started at Smeltings Academy.

"Funny way to get to a wizards school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?" Vernon chuckled at his own perceived wit.

"No, magic carpets were made illegal years ago." Harry responded monotonously, not even looking in his uncle's direction. Vernon growled softly, not liking the lack of fear Harry was showing.

"Where is this school, anyway?"

"North." Harry muttered, really not wanting to give any specifics to someone with such a deep hatred of all things magic. They rode in silence the rest of the way, avoiding so much as looking at one another. He knew in a clinical way that his relatives had tortured him for the first eleven years of his life, but at this point the memories felt like they were so long ago, he could barely remember any specifics. He just wanted to be away from them. Their volatile dislike was almost a physical feeling seeping off of them into the air.

The moment the car stopped at King's Cross Station, he had hold of Hedwig's cage, and was out of the car before any of his relatives could get out a single word, quickly loosing himself in the crowd. As he approached the entrance gate to platform nine and three quarters, Harry could feel the tingle of magic that emanated from it. The temporal phase shift gate was a piece of art, as far as Harry was concerned. It took all four of the founders working together to create a gateway that could take an entire train platform and everyone who enters it just a second out of synch with the rest of the world.

Harry almost laughed aloud at the idea that the ministry Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries made time turners and thought themselves on the cutting edge of time research. A wizard using a turner to manipulate time was the equivalent of a gorilla discovering the theory of relativity using an abacus. No one knew the potential of time manipulation better then Harry.

Glancing at Hedwig, who was watching him with her wide owl eyes, he felt the need to speak his main thought. "Here we go." Once through, the platform was noisy and crowded, as expected. Owls hooted and a cat yowled as someone accidentally stepped on it's tail. He quickly found an empty compartment, and settled in, opening the cage door, and letting Hedwig hurriedly hop out and settle comfortably on Harry's leg. Out the window, he could hear an upset boy who hadn't quite grown out of his baby fat yet, telling his grandmother that he couldn't find his toad. "Poor kid, stuck with a toad. Those fell out of fashion years ago."

The boy's Grandmother was none other then Augusta Grave nae-Longbottom. With a grin and a laugh, Harry glanced at Hedwig. "Remember how flexible she was when she was younger?"

Hedwig let off a low happy hoot, and with a single flap of her wings, hopped up onto Harry's shoulder. He pulled open the compartment door, vanished the owl cage, and moved out into the aisle. He stuck his hand out, willing a wandless summoning charm to bring the toad to him. Once it was in his hand, he conjured a cage for the toad, and shredded some loose parchment from his trunk for bedding. Soon the toad looked quite happy. Harry stepped out of the train carrying the new toad cage, and headed toward the still frantic looking boy.

"Hi. I heard you say out the window that you were missing a toad. Is this him?" He held up the cage.

"Trevor!" The boy exclaimed. "But where did the cage come from?"

"Oh that's mine. Don't worry, I don't need it."

"That's very kind of you, young man." Augusta spoke up.

Harry smiled at the rather serous looking woman. "It was no problem, ma'am. I'm happy to have helped."

"Introduce yourself, dear." She told her grandson.

"Oh, um... Neville." The boy said, quietly, looking quite embarrassed. "Neville Longbottom."

"Hi Neville. I'm Harry Potter."

The somewhat pudgy boy froze, looking too shocked to say anything.

"I should have known, Mr. Potter. You look just like your father, poor soul. Your father was a dear friend of my son Frank. You and my dear Neville used to play together as babes."

"Really?" Asked Neville quietly, while Harry just smiled at them both.

"Well, it was a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Longbottom. I'm in an empty compartment, if you want to sit with me, Neville."

He led the shy boy back to the compartment he had sat in, only to find it packed with a group of giggling girls. "Huh. I guess not. Let's find another."

They headed into the next train car only to find a compartment with a single occupant, a bushy-haired brunet girl, with her nose stuck deep into a book. Harry knocked on the door, then pulled it open. "Hi. Do you mind if we sit with you?"

The girl looked quite hopeful as they entered the cabin. "Of course not, there's plenty of room. I'm Hermione Granger. Are you first years also?"

"We are. He's Neville Longbottom, and I'm Harry Potter."

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "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 really?" He asked sharply. Hermione's face fell, like someone had just kicked her puppy. Hedwig, still sitting on Harry's shoulder smacked him on the back of his head with her wing and hooted at him sharply, telling him to be nice. The girl obviously was trying very hard to make friends.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione. I just don't really like the idea of books printing my private life for all the world to read about." Harry sat next to the girl, with Neville sitting across from them. With a jerk, the train started moving.

Hermione looked relieved that the boys weren't leaving, or making fun of her. "Oh, it's okay, I understand, I'm just so excited about all this. 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 learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough."

"I'm sure you'll do great. Though you'll have to compete against me for top of the class. I'm muggle raised myself. How about you, Neville?" Harry asked, trying to include his new shy friend in the conversation.

Surprised at being included, he stuttered a bit. "I- I'm um... p- pure blood. Both m- my p- parents were magical."

Sensing a painful subject for the boy, Harry quickly moved the conversation forward. "I was quite surprised to find out about magic, but have been practising a number of spells myself. Everything I have tried so far has worked."

"You're not supposed to use your wand outside of school. You'll get in trouble." Hermione said, sounding worried.

"I know, that's why I haven't been using my wand. I-"

Before Harry could say anything farther, the door opened, admitting a tall, thin, and gangling, red-haired boy with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose, a black spot right on the end of that nose. Ignoring the others in the cabin, the red-haired boy looked right at Harry. "Can I sit in here, everywhere else is full."

Harry immediately knew that the boy was lying. The magic of the train was designed to expand so the train is never full. All the same, as the muggle-raised first year that people thought him to be, he couldn't really say anything. "Sure, come on in, there's room."

"I'm Ron Weasley." he said, to Harry, again ignoring the others in the compartment.

"That's Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and I'm Harry Potter."

"Really?" he looked gob-smacked. "Are you really Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded, starting to get frustrated on the way the boy was ignoring his new friends.

"And have you really got — you know…" He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry really wanted to pop the kid one, and had to remind himself that he was an eleven year old boy. With a quick thought, Harry willed away the scar that was apart of his 'eleven year old harry' disguise. The scar had been hidden behind his long bangs, that he kept as part of the disguise for that very reason.

"Got what?" Harry asked, faking looking confused.

"You know... the scar." Ron said with a tone like he was talking to someone not quite all there in the head.

"I have a bunch of scars." Harry responded, secretly laughing inside. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a slight upturning to Hermione's lips. He was glad she was enjoying watching him take the goofy kid down a notch. "I have a big one on my elbow, got caught on the rose bush by my house, once."

Hedwig tittered from her place on Harry's shoulder. She remembered that roll in the rose bushes. He had cut up his arm, and she had thorn scratches down her back. Unfortunately neither of them were wearing clothes at the time. Thanks to their metamorphic shape-shifter gifts, neither had any permanent scars, though they could make scars appear and disappear anywhere on their bodies at will.

"No!" Ron was starting to get frustrated, his voice raising to a shout. Harry could tell how easy it was to push the kid's buttons. "The curse scar! On your head!"

Before Harry could object, Ron grabbed his hair, moving aside the bangs, looking for the scar. Hedwig didn't appreciate the angry boy manhandling her Harry. She screeched loudly, flapping her wings at Ron, causing him to jump back, helped by Harry giving him a slight shove. "Oi! Have you ever heard of personal space? Back off!"

At this point Ron looked really confused. "But... she said... I mean... uh... I heard... Ah. I get it. You're not really Harry Potter. Very funny."

With that, Ron stormed out of the compartment, leaving the others looking very confused. Once the boy was gone, Harry reformed the scar on his head.

"What a git." Neville said, then turned bright red, as he realized he commented aloud.

"I agree." Harry added, grinning at Neville.

"That boy was quite rude." Hermione noted. "I'm glad he's not staying here with us."

"Same here. I just hope we don't end up in the same house as him." Harry said. "I'd hate having to share a dorm with him."

"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 in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Hedwig ruffle her feathers in a show of annoyance at hearing Ravenclaw house be referenced as 'not too bad.'

"Oh I don't know," Harry said. "I hear only the smartest get into Ravenclaw, though I definitely think you are brave enough for Gryffindor."

Hermione blushed brightly. "You think so? Anyway, What about you, Neville?"

"I- well... both my parents were in Gryffindor, but I don't think I'm brave enough." He blushed again. The kids face spent so much time turning red, Harry would have almost suspected him of being a metamorphmagus. "I'll probably end up in Hufflepuff."

"Hey, don't put yourself down, Nev." Harry tried to console the nearly distraught boy.

"I was so scared, I barely got on the train." He didn't know why he was confiding in his two new friends, yet for some reason, he could tell that they would never judge him.

"You were scared, yet you're still here. If you ask me, being brave isn't not being scared, it's being scared, but doing it anyway." Harry knew quite well what Godric Gryffindor looked for in students. "I'll tell you what, though. If you want to be in Gryffindor, then when you get called for the sorting, you take a deep breath, march up to the sorting hat, stick it on your head, and order, heck, demand the hat put you in Gryffindor. Show the hat you mean business."

Hermione smiled, seeing the way Neville took a deep breath and seemed to come into himself after hearing Harry's words, his shoulders moving back, and his chin up. It was so different from the Neville she met at the beginning of the train ride.

The three students sat chatting for a while longer before the compartment door opened, again without anyone knocking.

Three boys entered, the one in front had a pale pointed face, and white blonde hair, slicked back with way too much hair goop, reminiscent of a white ferret or rodent of some kind. The other boys were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

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

Harry was trying to remember where he'd seen the blonde boy before, but the memories of his first visit to Diagon Alley were so long ago, as to be vague and lacking any clear detail, even with his occlumency organization of his mind which allowed him instant recall and a photographic memory.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Harry asked, giving up trying to remember.

"My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. We spoke at Madam Malkin's. You didn't tell me you were Harry Potter."

Harry recalled talking to the boy who came across as extremely stuck up. "Yeah, sorry, lot on my mind at the time. What can we do for you?"

Malfoy looked at Neville and Hermione, with an obvious sneer on his face. "You'll soon find out some Wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it. "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like them, and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Thanks to his many years practising occlumency, Harry was able to control his temper. That didn't mean he didn't want to rip the snooty little ponce into a pile of his individual organs. Standing from his seat, he slowly and steadily, clamped his right hand around Draco's throat and started squeezing. Draco quickly turned purple from lack of air. With a quick shove, Malfoy and his two stooges were in the corridor. Harry shot a glare at the blonde boy, before slamming the door, and wandlessly sealing it.

Shaking herself out of shock, Hermione quickly started to worry. "You shouldn't be fighting. You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"I should rather let him threaten me, insult my friends, and drag my parents name through the mud?" Harry asked, taking a deep breath and calming his internally raging emotions. "I'm not too worried. I could have done a lot worse. Thanks for worrying about me, Hermione. I'll be okay."

With a sharp grin at Her, he expanded his trunk and grabbed out a pair of student robes to pull on over his clothing.

"What is that?" Hermione asked. "That's not a standard student trunk."

"I know. I found it in my parents bank vault." Harry lied. "It's a military-grade seven compartment trunk."

It was actually a thirteen compartment trunk, but only seven were accessible from the outside. Harry felt no need to share the extras with anyone yet, or the fact that he had to get it specially from a man in Italy that supplied the International Confederation of Wizards emergency response squad, what was in essence the magical military.

"Anyway," he said with a grin. " You should get ready. We'll be there soon."