I'm terrible, I know. I checked my calendar and realized it's been two months since I updated, so... here you go.
The two smile at each other briefly, shyly. Harry peers at the notebook, and then gestures at it, asking, "Why're you using a notebook?"
There's no mocking in his voice – only curiosity. It gives Ron the confidence to pull out his pen and quickly scribble something on the next page. It's only a single word, but it changes everything.
Mute
He shows the page to Harry, and in an instant, understanding flashes across his face. There's no pity, none at all. He can only find sympathy in the other boys' eyes, and it's such a relief that he feels his entire body turn to weak. He gives him a huge grin, and Harry returns it. He's unbelievably happy that the first person he came into contact with turned out to be nice. It makes him slightly more optimistic at the thought of encountering others.
Harry shifts, and the movement catches his eye. He points at the pen, puzzled.
"Are we allowed to bring stuff like that on?" he asks. "Hagrid made me buy quills and ink and stuff."
Ron simply shrugs.
Much more convenient, isn't it?
Harry agrees. "I don't see why we have to use these at all." He leans closers, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'm afraid I might mess up in using these on my first day."
It's not much different from a pen, Ron writes quickly. Just messier, I suppose. Got to wait for it to dry and all. Spilling the ink well is a nightmare too.
That seems to be the ice breaker between them. They both relax, the train steadily chugging away towards Hogwarts, as the two of them jump leisurely from topic to topic. It's so strange – he'd never actually talked to anyone outside of family much, and here he was, holding a conversation easily.
Harry came from a muggle family, and lived with his Aunt and Uncle, he discovers. He didn't talk much about them, and from the way he quickly changed topics, Ron knew not to pry. So instead, he describes his huge family.
His mum, who was a great cook, and his father, who loves muggle things. He describes all his older brothers from Bill, to the twins. And then finally, he ends on Ginny.
He's used up three pages already, and he silently thanks his mum for forcing him to pack many empty notebooks. As Ron's about the last part about his little sister, with her obsession with Harry Potter, he pauses.
Harry… Potter?
He frowns. Considers. Glances at the boy sitting across from him.
The truth smacks him across the face, and he accidentally lets his notebook slip away from his hands. Ron lunges for it, then quickly flips to a new page.
Are you Harry Potter?
Harry nods.
He scrambles to writes something else. Probably around the lines of 'Why didn't you tell me?' or 'Whoa' or something equally stupid. Ron's halfway through writing it when he stops short.
The expression on Harry face is one he knows well. He sees it every time he looks in the mirror.
Harry didn't make a big deal out of his – his condition. The least he could do was the same.
So instead, he crosses out the page he was writing.
Okay.
Harry relaxes a bit at that.
"Is it noticeable?" he asks.
Ron just points at his forehead, and Harry hurries to cover the scar self-consciously.
You look pretty normal. It's just the scar. But people are going to gossip eventually. I'm sure a few people are already whispering.
Harry shrugs.
"That's alright."
The sudden opening of the door draws both of their heads. A woman stands there, with a cart, just in the hallway.
"Anything off the cart, dears?"
Harry jumps up and peers at the food offered. It's all sweets. He looks a little lost, but buys some of everything.
"Are you getting anything?" Harry asks.
Ron shakes his head, and the woman moves onto the next door.
"Haven't had breakfast yet," he says, looking at the pile of sweets.
Ron pulls out his own stack of sandwiches, far too much for him to finish on his own, and glances back at Harry's way. Corned beef. He frowns lightly, and takes a reluctant bite of the sandwich. Then another, and another. It's not his favourite, but it'd have to do.
Harry starts in on his own food, grabbing at random at the collection of sweets.
A comfortable silence settles between them, both preoccupied with eating. Well, Harry specifically, considering he'd been the only one doing the talking. It isn't until Ron's halfway through his second sandwich that Harry gestures towards the sweets.
"Want some?" he asks. "I don't reckon I'll finish even half."
Ron blinks at him, wide eyed. He sets down his food.
Really?
"Go on."
He reaches over to grab a pastry, tossing aside the sandwiches. He sighs lightly into the mouthful. Much better than any dry sandwich. He soon forgets about it, and together, the two boys slowly finish off the sweets stack.
He forgets to warn Harry about the jelly beans, and Harry's astonished cry has him whirling towards him, alarmed.
The jellybean, halfway chewed, is in his hand, and they stare at it.
"I just tasted something terrible," he said, looking vaguely horrified. Ron's face twitches into an amused smile.
Sorry. Forgot to warn you.
"It's okay," Harry says, and doesn't touch the jellybeans for the rest of the ride.
The half chewed jellybean finds a home next to the forgotten sandwich.
They're just about to start on the chocolate frogs when the door bursts open for the second time that day.
A girl stands in the doorway, her bushy hair partially blocking the nervous figure of a boy behind her.
"Is there a toad in here?" she asks, with a bossy tone to her voice. "Neville's lost his."
Ron and Harry glance at each other, and both shake their head. She glances over their clothes in distaste.
"You should get dressed soon," she says. Ron rolls his eyes. Harry frowns in confusion. "We're coming up to the school soon."
She doesn't move from her spot. Seeing as Harry wasn't going to ask her to leave, he grabs his stuff.
And we're supposed to do that with you in here, are we?
She leans forward to read what he's written, and huffs.
"If you're going to be so rude, you could at least say it to me."
"He's mute," Harry says from the side.
That makes her double take, and he feels a brief satisfaction before she goes, "Really?"
He nods, and she glances back at the boy behind her, before storming in. She sits right next to him. Neville, timidly follows her, standing awkwardly in the middle of the compartment, before Harry clears some space next to him. Ron eyes the girl, and shuffles down a bit.
"How does that work?" she asks. "Your muteness, I mean. Was it from birth? Head trauma? Hold on, how're you going to learn at Hogwarts?"
She fires the questions off one by one, and she's uncomfortably close now.
Thankfully, Harry comes to his rescue.
"Maybe we should change first?"
She sighs, eyeing him. "Oh, alright," she says. She tilts her head in thought. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way," she adds as an afterthought.
Then she's out the door, dragging out Neville as well.
They both change into their robes. There's only a brief scare when Harry catches sight of Scabbers, but it's resolved quickly enough.
By the time they're done, Neville's gone back to his own compartment, and Hermione is right back, striding into the room. She sits down next to him again, determined to get her answers, but she's hardly down for a couple seconds when the train slows to a stop.
They've arrived at Hogwarts.