Disclaimer: All I own is the idea and the changes to the plot that happen because of it...

Ron folded his arms and slouched down in his seat.

Fred had made him sit with them. He had tried to join in on a conversation with the twins and Lee Jordan, but it had gotten rather strained when he had accidentally hit Lee with his elbow when signing and George (who was translating) had doubled over in laughter at their expressions.

The compartment door opened and Ron looked up in interest to see who it was. The trolley witch had already come by and George had pinched a few chocolate frogs, while Lee made a great show of examining licorice wands to choose the one of most superior quality. Ron had to pretend he was sleeping with his head under a pillow, because if he hadn't been trying to be absolutely still, he would have ruined everything with a laugh at Lee's antics.

But this witch was much younger, wasn't plump like the trolley witch, and most importantly, was wearing Hogwarts robes and missing the trolley.

"Hello, have you seen a toad? Neville's lost one" she said, her head tilting slightly toward a small dark haired freckled boy who looked to be a first year.

Ron shook his head as the boy sniffed, rubbing tears from his face furiously, not noticing that his grubby hands left smudgy dirt marks on his cheeks

Fred opened his mouth, no doubt to tell the boy that toads were out of style anyways, but promptly shut it when he noticed that the boy was crying.

Ron stood up and signed to Fred "Let me help them, please"

Fred shook his head "No Ronnie, not without me and George"

"I don't want you hovering over me like you always do when I'm around other kids" Ron scowled at his brother, his hands lifted slightly, ready to return an answer to what ever his brother said back

George opened his mouth to speak when there was a loud bump in the next compartment, followed by muffled yells.

"Slytherins with a first year" George groaned, pushing the young witch and Neville aside. Fred and Lee followed suit, Fred pushing Ron back into the compartment.

Ron crept out and watched his brothers in interest

George grabbed out his wand and tossed open the compartment door. Curled up against one bench, trying to vanish into it, the black haired boy from the platform was sporting a bloody nose. Two huge goons were giggling and kicking him. A tall blond first year was holding the boy's hair in his fist as if he had been hitting his head against the bench.

"Well if it isn't a Bloody Malfoy. What'd this kid do to make you mad?" Lee asked, looking bored.

"He wouldn't give us his compartment, the little brat. You should all be bowing down and singing praises to the Malfoy name and instead he acts like he's so much better than me" The blond seethed

Fred yawned again and flicked his wand at the two goons, freezing them. They fell down to the carpet when their legs were kicked out from under them.

"Shoulda checked who was in the next compartment Malfoy" George said, almost apologetically "Also shoulda checked who this kid was. If you didn't notice, look down. The kid is Harry Bloody Potter"

Everyone sucked in a breath and looked at the famous lightning bolt scar. Malfoy removed his hand from the wild hair and blinked quickly.

"Come on Potter" Fred called, sounding kind "George's got your trunk" and, Ron noticed, George did have it, his hands gripping it awkwardly before he shoved his way out of the compartment.

All eight of them crammed back into the compartment, George shoving the trunk up on the luggage rack.

Ron looked closer at Harry Potter. He was small, smaller than Ron even, whose growth had been stunted slightly by the dragon pox. His face was ashen, almost too white for a human being but the back and sides of his neck were tanned and Ron suspected that he was just pale from fright. The shock of black hair stood up messily, pointing in many different directions and the green eyes darted around nervously behind the glasses for a few moments before settling for staring at a spot near Fred's feet. Ron wasn't exactly sure what it was, but Harry's forearms seemed slightly mottled, as if covered with faded green and purple patches of skin. They obviously weren't bruises, they wouldn't have formed between now and being jumped in his compartment, that wasn't enough time.

Well what were they?

Ron made a face at himself. He needn't be so curious, just because the kid was the Boy-Who-Lived.