A/N: I would like to apologize for the lack of update. I took on a course load in school that left me little time to do much except work, study, go to school and occasionally sleep. I have a bit of a break so I will definitely try to get updates up quicker. Reviews do help though.

J.K. Rowling's original words are in Italics.

Harry stared up at the ceiling with a feeling of complete and utter despair. September 1 was less than a week away, and he was very nearly convinced that the events on his birthday had been a figment of his imagination.

The events since his homecoming were not the worst it could have been, but it was still pretty bad. The Dursleys started with completely ignoring his presence. He was not woken up to make breakfast or asked to do menial household chores. However, he was also not served food. They did not spare him a single thought. At first.

It was not until he tried getting food from the kitchen himself that things went downhill. His uncle, who rarely hit him, used Dudley's Smelting stick to spank him. As those things go, Harry's entire backside, including his thighs and back, had purple stripes across them. Things regressed from there.

Harry was fed once a day when they remembered and generally ignored unless he did something that they felt warranted punishment. Uncle Vernon had never been particularly heavy-handed, but Harry had been spanked more in the weeks since his eleventh birthday than in his whole life.

Although he knew it was wrong of his family, he could not begrudge them. The anger within his uncle was born from fear of the unknown. Magic was not something that was particularly fathomable in relation to his idea of a normal existence. That a child within their own household would exhibit not only signs but outright displays of magic was a source of deep fright for the Dursleys. Harry's suffering for their fears was an unfortunate side-effect, but it was something that he had become accustomed to.

Another of the things that had happened that was nearly a comfort was the retraction of the second bedroom. He was put back into the cupboard "for Dudley's safety." It made his punishments more uncomfortable, as he was forced to sleep on his stomach in such a cramped space, but he did not mind the small space. The desperate feelings within him, however, scared him. He did not know if he was going to be able to make it to Hogwarts. When he brought up the fact that he needed a ride to King's Cross Station to his uncle, the response was basically that he would need to find his own way.

Hedwig was with Draco, sent with instructions to keep her until school began. Harry did not want to subject the beautiful owl to the cramped space, along with his school trunk and himself. The solitary existence was painful, but at least there was no other creature treated the same.

That conviction was nearly impossible to hang onto when staring up at the ceiling, stomach empty to the point of pain.

Severus stared into the fire lit within his hearth with an expression of disgust. "Draco, have I a need to assign you detention before the term begins?" he asked. Floo was not a dangerous means of traveling, but he knew without a doubt that Lucius would never allow his son to risk it alone.

Draco took on a petulant look, but it was wiped off a moment later when the reason for the clandestine floo call came back to him. "I think Harry is in trouble, Sev!"

Though Severus's facial features did not alter, his heart certainly stuttered. "Do tell, Mr. Malfoy."

The flat look accompanying the order did little to persuade the boy that Severus did not care. "He sent me Hedwig—that's what he named our owl! There was a note that said to keep her until the first night of school, but you know...I wanted to talk to him, to tell him about father and the Manor. I sent Hedwig with a letter, but she brought it back. I thought maybe the owl was just stupid so I sent her back. She came back again so I thought maybe Harry was just mad or something."

Severus listened to the boy prattle on with growing anxiety. Perhaps he did The Boy Who Lived a disservice by sending him back to the wretched muggles. Perhaps something had befallen the young savior. There was no way the child was as spoiled as he initially thought or hoped, so it was doubtful the lack of correspondence was out of irritability.

"I sent her back yesterday," Draco continued, apparently not noticing or not caring about his Professor's distress, "and she came back today with the same letter, except this time it looked like someone tried to hurt her." He uneasily looked up at Severus.

The crackle of the fire was the only sound within the room. "Perhaps you are mistaken, Draco," Severus said silkily after a long stretch of silence.

"Someone tried to yank her feathers out!" Draco raged. "She would barely allow Father to look at her wing. I know there is something wrong, Severus. Harry wouldn't just-" The boy silenced and turned his head as if listening to something. A look of despair took over his small face and he huffed. "I am sorry to have bothered you with my paranoid ramblings. Perhaps you are correct in assuming I am mistaken. Good evening, Severus."

With a droll look, Severus banked the fire and prepared to depart. It was the night before the children were due to arrive, and it would not hurt to check to make sure the child was okay.

Harry huffed as he dragged his trunk from his family's house. His back, legs and behind were aflame as he stomped away. There were no tears to be had as he paved his way down the street, and it was not until he ran straight into a solid object did he realize that his glasses did not survive his escape.

"Mr. Potter," Severus said sharply, "where do you think you're going?" His obsidian eyes took in everything from the oversized clothing to the empty bird cage sitting atop the rather large trunk. The boy's glasses were nowhere to be found, and the squinting was enough to give anyone a headache.

"Heading to London," Harry answered begrudgingly. He suddenly found himself having to resist the urge to rub his bum. The adult before him reminded him sorely of his most recent punishment.

Worried, Severus glanced up at 4 Privet Drive. "You planned on walking from here to London?" he checked.

Huffing, Harry rubbed his eyes. He was hungrier than he had ever been in his entire life, which somehow made him more exhausted than ever. On top of that, he suddenly felt the need to cry and beg his new professor to take him away from his terrible relatives. Instead, he stood up straighter and lifted his chin defiantly. "I can take care of myself."

"Read that street sign for me, Potter," Severus instructed. He was irritated, and Harry's sudden likeness to his father was not helping.

"Magnolia Crescent," Harry answered, barely glancing at it.

Right, Severus thought dryly. The boy had been living in the same place nearly his entire life. "You can no more see that than you can see the Continent from here. Explain yourself."

"The train leaves at eleven so I figure I have plenty of time to find the train station."

"From here." It was not a question but a clarification of what was being said. It was a completely ludicrous idea the boy had, and he wanted to be sure before he completely blew his top.

Harry's bristled. "Yes." He gripped his trunk as he swayed. Though his behind was aching, he wished he had been successful in his attempt to grab some food before he left.

"Where are your glasses? Your journey would be quite a bit more pleasant if you could see."

Harry shrugged. "Dudley crushed them," he answered matter-of-factly. "Even the lenses were useless."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. Draco was not wrong then. "Are you hurt?"

Harry's hand twitched toward his back, but he stopped himself. "I'm fine. Dudley and I got into a little scuffle and my glasses didn't make it is all."

The movement of Harry's hand did not escaped the older man's notice, but he decided not to pursue it in their current setting. "Why are you planning on walking to the train station rather than riding with your relatives?"

Harry swallowed convulsively. "My uncle does not want to take me. He told me to find my own way." He pretended to scratch his back and carefully readjusted his pants. "So I am."

"You are a ridiculous child, Potter. Did I not tell you that you are famous? That fame comes with enemies, boy. Departing from your relatives home on this absurd little adventure is not beneficial to your overall health." Mentally counting to three, he sighed. "Why did you send your owl to Draco after agreeing to keep her for the duration of the summer?"

Scuffing his foot on the sidewalk, Harry tried to come up with a plausible excuse. His stomach was hurting so badly, and the lack of food for so long was making him dizzy. It was hard to think beyond that. "I—She-"

Severus grabbed the boy before he could pitch forward and hurt himself. "Potter," he snarled, angry in his alarm. "What has gotten into you, boy?"

"'M hungry," Harry muttered, trying to shake the man off. He was fine, just a little dizzy.

Suddenly cold with anger, Severus asked in a low voice, "When is the last time you ate?"

Rubbing his back, Harry tried to focus. "Yester—no. I think it was-" He tilted his head and studied Severus's cloak. "Maybe yesterday."

With an angry start, Severus grabbed the trunk and hauled Harry into his arms. The boy weighed no more than a child years younger, and that fact made the Potion Master more incensed. He wavered between confronting the pathetic family or getting Harry some food.

It took no more than a few minutes to find his way into Figg's home. Though there was an initial struggle when pulling the boy into his arms, Harry was wrapped securely when they walked through the door. "I need to use your Floo," he said firmly, when they were alone.

Harry watched in surprise as his old babysitter produced a flowery pot full of some sort of powder. "Ms. Figg?" he asked in surprise.

"I'm sure this is something of a surprise, dear," Ms. Figg said kindly. "Do try and have a good year at school."

Harry slid from Severus's arms as instructed and stood silently as the professor shrunk the trunk and placed it in his own pocket. "Come, Potter. As this is your first Floo experience, I would rather you come along with me. I do not want you to fall out of some random fireplace." Severus tossed a handful of powder into the flames and ushered the small boy forward. Trustingly, Harry went and instinctively held onto the older man when he said, "Spinner's End!"

Harry fell to his knees before the hearth, coughing up soot. He was yanked to his feet and scourgified before pushed into a chair. With a small yelp, he readjusted himself only to be yanked back to his feet.

Severus swore colorfully when he pulled Harry's shirt up. Without a thought for the boy's modesty, he pulled the too-large pants down and grit his teeth in anger. Colorful stripes of varying degrees of healing patterned Harry's entire backside.

"It's nothing," Harry protested, trying to pull his shirt down.

"Cease your movements and do not dare utter a defense for those miserable people." A quick summoning charm brought a poultice and a cream. Within minutes, Harry was able to sit semi-comfortably in the chair he had initially been pushed into. "Batty!"

The house elf popped into existence, startling Harry into clearing off a side table with his elbow. Batty put it to rights with a quick snap of his fingers before the boy could apologize. "What will Master be wanting, sir?"

An assessing eye allowed Severus to decide, "A bowl of soup and crackers—plenty of vegetables if you will." When the elf was gone, the man took a seat across from the boy. "We seem to have come across a bit of an issue." He slowly leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He was bone-tired, not at all accustomed to taking on the emotional baggage that came with caring for a child. It was certainly not something he planned to make a habit of.

Harry scratched at a stain on his pants he felt with his fingers. It hurt his head to try and focus on the professor's face so he let his eyes fall closed. "There's no issue, sir." There was a vague feeling of unease that almost made him wish for the solitary safety of his cupboard. No one ever came into his cupboard so he was safe there.

Many emotions were coursing through Severus, but annoyance was predominant. "Your relatives are abusive, Mr. Potter. That would constitute as an issue."

Harry huffed. "I was spanked. There are many children who have it worse. Dudley likes to knock me around, but I only ever get hit in the face if I did something really bad. So I don't eat like Dudley does. Having two children can't be easy, especially when one is doing freaky things."

Severus wanted to silence the boy. He wanted to wipe the hopeful, earnest look from his face. The boy still saw the best in his fool relatives. "Mr. Potter, your abuse is predominantly neglect. The corporal punishment bestowed upon you was excessive and undoubtedly uncalled for. While bad in and of itself, you are also malnourished, badly clothed, barely sheltered, and completely and utterly unloved." Everything was laid out, in a harsh manner, but Severus could not afford to pull any punches. "Neglect is abuse, Mr. Potter, and it is, at times, the worst kind."

Blinking rapidly at the information spilling from the gaunt man's mouth, Harry's throat was suddenly tight with emotion. It was not as if any of the information was news, but it hurt to have it laid out like that. Unloved. He crossed his arms and pinched his inner arm to stem the tears that he knew were coming. A bowl of vegetable soup popped up beside him as Severus pulled his hand away from his arm.

Severus was out of his depth. Letting matters lie was not his favorite thing to do, but he did not know how to help the child. He was not one for emotion. "Eat your soup. I will find a suitable replacement for your spectacles before I take you to the train tomorrow." He held onto the hand until he was sure the child was not about to resume his previous actions.

"You're not going to take me to the school yourself?" Harry asked, surprised as his eyes stared into the blurry face of his professor. He ached for the professor to retake his hand. Instead, he rubbed his hand against the arm of the chair.

"Your first train ride is not one you would like to miss," Severus said stiffly, though he had hated his first train ride. A particular incident involving Sirius Black and James Potter came to mind, but he quashed the thought before it could fully form.

No response was forth coming as Harry tucked into the soup. It was his first solid meal in quite a while, and he savored it to the last drop, feeling warmer than he thought possible. He did not realize he had drifted off to sleep until his shoes were tugged from his feet.

"S'rry Pr'ffessor," he mumbled, turning into the comfortable pillow. He could not find it in himself to mind as his shirt was pulled up and the feeling of something rubbed into his aching back took over.

"Just sleep, child," was the exasperated response. "Batty will fetch you in the morning."

Though he did not believe it possible, Harry slept until the eager house elf woke him. Once again, his clothes were replaced by nicer ones, and his shoes were polished. The house elf led Harry once again to the kitchen where Severus was already seated.

Harry automatically took the glasses that were pressed into his hand and placed them on his face. He blinked in surprise when everything came into sharp focus, far more clear than his old glasses. "Sir," he said in amazement. "I can see everything so well."

Severus nodded thoughtfully. "I suspect your old glasses were not updated in quite sometime. Your eyes have gotten worse over time, Mr. Potter. These glasses are charmed to adjust to those changes." He resolutely did not feel guilty for spending the extra amount on the square, silver, wire-framed glasses that were purposely very different from the ones James Potter owned.

Harry wished he could see how he looked. His new glasses were so much different from his old ones. "Um. I know glasses are expensive, sir." He stood up to go get his coin pouch.

"Where do you think you are going?" Severus asked sharply.

"To go get the money to pay you back," Harry answered nervously, confused.

"Sit. The glasses are a—a belated birthday gift, boy. Eat your breakfast so we can be on our way."

"You're riding the train with me, sir?" Harry asked, almost hopefully, as he poured honey into his oatmeal. He was giddy as there were nuts to put in along with the honey. He never got to eat so richly!

Severus contemplated how fun it would be to sit with Harry on the train. He would terrify even the boldest seventh years. He banished that thought, since it was nigh impossible. There were things to prepare for at Hogwarts. "No, Po—Harry. I'm certain that my presence would repel any possible friend prospects for you. I will drop you off outside of the train station and allow you to make your way onto the platform yourself."

Eating with gusto, Harry felt warmed when he realized the professor called him by his first name. There was less sneering when he called him by his first name. "What's going to happen?" he asked when he was finished with his breakfast.

The Daily Prophet was folded and placed on the table before Severus turned his attention to Harry. "Explain," he coaxed.

"Well," Harry said, drawing out the word as he thought. "I don't want my aunt and uncle to get in any trouble. I don't know what's going to happen from here, and I also don't know what the train is going to be like-or Hogwarts!" New thoughts were suddenly occurring to him as they poured out of his mouth. "What if everyone hates me? I don't know anything so I'm sure I'm going to end up failing out of everything. Everyone knows me so I'm probably not going to live up to anyone's expectations, and probably no one will like me. I'm a freak. What if I don't get into any house? What if everyone hates me so much I get sent home?"

"Stop," Severus ordered before the boy could go on. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The beginning of a headache was coming on. "I have not decided what I am going to do about your despicable family. As for your other worries...they are unfounded. Drink your juice so we can leave." He stared at him until the order was complied and gestured for the boy to stand. "Your trunk is in the drawing room. We will not floo directly onto the platform, as I have no wish to be subjected to the little dunderheads before I have to be. We will floo to a nearby outlet, and I will escort you from there."

"Was there something in that juice?" Harry asked as Severus followed him into the drawing room.

Eyebrows raised in surprise, Severus nodded. "How did you know?" he asked curiously.

Harry shrugged, nonplussed. Somehow he trusted the dour man. "There was a certain texture and the slightest hint of an almost..." A puzzled look overtook the young face. "I guess it was like a spicy taste?"

Severus was genuinely impressed. "Your juice was mixed with a nutrition potion. The spicy taste was the mixture of oak leaves and newt eyes. It creates the spicy taste." He quietly appraised the boy. "It is ordinarily not detected except by those skilled at such things."

The impressed tone was bellied by the thought that he had just drank something containing newt eyes. "Newt eyes?" he asked faintly.

"You will find, Mr. Potter, that much of the potions you will make for consumption hold something that would ordinarily make one want to expel the contents of one's stomach."

Harry looked up at the professor. "That's okay with me, sir, I would just not like to know when that is the case."

Smirking, Severus shrunk his belongings. "You may go to our destination separately if you wish." He indicated the pot of floo powder.

Remembering the feeling of being transferred from one fireplace to another, Harry shook his head emphatically. His only saving grace had been Severus anchoring him.

"Very well. Come." Severus tossed a handful of floo powder into the flames and stepped in, pulling Harry close with an arm across his chest. The trip was short, and Harry managed to stay on his feet when they arrived.

"You will want to change into your robes on the train," Severus instructed as they approached King's Cross Station. "Try not to overindulge on sweets, and behave yourself. It is a mode of transportation, not a playground."

Harry nodded dutifully and accepted his trunk, which had been put to rights when they arrived in London. "Yes, sir. Thank you for bringing me." He stared down at his hands, which were gripping the trunk tightly. He felt choked with emotion but couldn't put his finger on the reason.

"Remember, Harry. School is much different from my home. I will not coddle you or hold your hand through your trials. Come to me if you feel the need, but do not expect to be pampered."

Taking offense, Harry drew himself up. "I don't expect pampering from anyone," he said stonily before turning on his heal and attempting to march away.

Severus swiftly grabbed his arm and forced him to turn back around. "I did not mean to hurt your fragile feelings. I just do not want you to expect too much out of our relationship. It would only lead to heartache." For both of us.

Harry rolled his eyes, ignoring the tightening in his chest. Severus had cared for him as no one else had, and it hurt to hear such a thing. "Don't worry, Professor. I can take care of myself."

Severus allowed the boy to leave, though he wanted to shake him. He was obviously a scare little boy, but his temerity left a lot to be desired. It reminded Severus far too much of the late James Potter, and that would not do. He quietly stalked into the train station when he felt Harry had sufficient time to get ahead and watched as the boy stood in front of the platform and fidgeted. Just when he thought he would have to guide the boy, Molly Weasley showed up with her brood. He found himself a secluded place and Disapparated to Hogsmeade, confident that Harry was in good hands.

All bravado was gone when Harry approached the wall between platforms nine and ten. He tried not to be frightened as instructed, but it was difficult. He could not bring himself to push through the apparently solid wall. Just as he was about to push his pride aside and go find Severus, his ears perked up.

"-packed with Muggles, of course-"

Harry swung around. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Harry's in front of him—and they had an owl.

Harry fidgeted in place, his heart hammering as the motherly woman inquired about the platform number. He stood still and watched the approach and then apparent disappearance of the oldest boy. In a dizzying succession, all but the last boy disappeared. With a sinking heart, Harry realized he would have to ask for help.

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

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

She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.

"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 and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

Harry swallowed his fear and faced the wall. It looked very solid. He started to walk toward it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that barrier and then he'd be in trouble—leaning forward on his cart, he broke into a heavy run—the barrier was coming nearer and nearer—he wouldn't be able to stop—the cart was out of control—he was a foot away—he closed his eyes ready for the crash-

It didn't come...he kept on running...he opened his eyes.

It was the most majestic thing he had ever laid eyes on. A scarlet steam engine straight from the movies was already packed with people. Awe-filled, he could do nothing but stare. It was not until a snowy owl perched on his trunk that he came back to himself. "Hedwig!" he exclaimed in excitement, reverently running his fingers over the white feathers. His head immediately snapped up and sought out Draco, who was standing with a tall, handsome man. The man had long, white-blond hair, and his robes looked to be of the very best quality. It was with caution that Harry approached the Malfoys.

"Hello, Harry," Draco said politely, with an air of nobility that Harry did not quite care for. "I see that you made it safely."

Harry glanced up at the older gentleman beside Draco and was rewarded with a restrained nod. "Hello, Draco," he said, struggling to match the other boy's tone. "I see that you made it safely as well." He turned to the taller man and stared up at him, no fear present within him. "Hello, Mr. Malfoy. My name is Harry Potter."

"There is not a person here that does not know your name," Lucius assured the boy. "You may call me Lucius if you so desire." He turned to his son. "I told you nothing was amiss. He made it here safely from his relatives."

"Actually, Se—Professor Snape had to come get me," Harry interrupted, forgetting his attempt at matching their regal attitudes. "I was going to walk, but he didn't really like that idea." A frown took up the little boy's face before he brightened. "I'm going to go find a seat."

Lucius watched the boy walk away. Though he was not fond of being proven wrong, he wished he had been right more than ever in this particular case. There was something disconcerting about the little savior. Almost as if he was older than his age indicated. "Befriend him but be careful," he advised his son.

In an undignified and uncharacteristic show of affection, Draco threw his arms around his father's middle and hugged him tightly. There had never been a time when he was away from his father for more than a few days. Quickly reigning in his emotions, he stepped back and schooled his features. "Yes, Father."

Lucius smiled softly. There were times when Draco reminded him so much of Narcissa that he wanted to hold the boy tightly and never let him go. "Behave, son." He passed his hand over the neatly coiffed hair. "I love you."

Draco beamed up at his father. "I love you too, Father." He turned toward the train with his heavily laden trunk. He quickly turned back. "Owl me, Father."

Lucius smirked. "Very well, Draco." He waited patiently for Draco to board before Apparating back to the manner, which felt far too empty. It was going to be a long term.

When Draco finally found Harry, he discovered another occupant along with him. "Ronald Weasley," he said stiffly.

Ron's face immediately turned red. "Draco Malfoy."

Harry looked dubiously between the two boys. "Ron, this is my friend Draco, who you seem to already know..."

Ron pulled his jacket around himself. "I know of him. Son of Lucius Malfoy, guiltless Death Eater, grandson of Abraxas Malfoy, ruthless and unashamed Death Eater. He is the product of two of the darkest pure-blood wizarding families for centuries." His dark gaze let Draco know he knew of him.

Alarmed, Harry looked at Draco, who pulled himself to his full height. "Ronald Weasley, youngest son of a family of nine. Pure-blood, poor, but powerful by sheer bulk alone." He resolutely turned his back on Ron and settled his trunk. "Powerful family, especially in love."

The last part was said quietly, but it caused Ron to soften. "Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to say-"

"Yes, you did," Draco said stiffly. "Do not insult me but trying to retract your words." He raised his head and looked Ron in the eye. "My father was exonerated, my mother murdered by her own sister. I have learned through my family's mistakes, Weasley."

Harry looked between the two boys, sympathy coating his gaze. Though the Dursleys were not poor, he could sympathize with wearing hand-me-downs and eating next to nothing. As well, he could sympathize with the loss of Draco's mother.

Silence infused the cart until Ron bluntly asked, "Can I see your scar?"

Harry glanced at Draco, who was trying his best not to look overly interested. With a sigh, he pulled back his bangs to show the lightning bolt shaped scar. "Wicked," Ron breathed.

Draco leaned in close with a puzzled frown. "It's not faded," he said thoughtfully. "It looks like it was just done last week or something."

Harry smoothed his bangs down and gently pushed the other boy back. "I don't know why. I've had it all my life." He fidgeted in his seat, not liking the hero worship he saw in Ron's eyes.

Draco, tactfully, maneuvered the subject to Quidditch. Ron was appropriately interested and argued the finer points of the Chudley Cannons' strategies with the blond boy. Harry was content to listen to the two argue.

When the trolley came by, Ron watched glumly as the other two boys got a little of everything. He stared down at his corned beef sandwiches and wished his family was richer.

Draco and Harry shared a look when they noticed Ron's mood. In an atypical show of kindness, Draco showered the boy with a handful of Chocolate Frogs. "Dig in," he said. His attempt at a friendly smile was rewarded with a beaming smile from Harry.

Ron slowly unwrapped a Chocolate Frog and listened in amusement as Draco explained wizarding candies and pastries to Harry. "It's hard to believe you don't know anything about the wizarding world," he said through a mouth full of chocolate.

Draco gave the boy a disgusted look, which he attempted to wipe away when Harry nudged him. "Growing up with muggles will do that," he pointed out instead of berating the boy for talking with his mouth full.

Conversation halted when the compartment door was pushed open to reveal a round-faced boy Harry vaguely remembered passing on the platform. He looked as if he'd been crying. He was accompanied by a bushy-haired girl.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

The three boys exchanged looks, and Harry shook his head. "No. Sorry."

"You're Harry Potter!" the busy-haired girl exclaimed, startling the toad boy. "I'm Hermione Granger and this is Neville. I read about you in Modern Magical History and-"

"I'm in books?" Harry cried in dismay.

Draco smirked. "You're famous, Potter," he pointed out unhelpfully.

Unbidden, panic began to engulf Harry. He struggled to control his breathing and sank into himself in a broody silence. He barely took notice when Neville and Hermione exited the compartment.

Draco glanced at his friend and turned to Ron, who looked just as worried. He shook his head when the red-head opened his mouth. "Tell me about your brothers," he suggested. Though he was not truly interested, he could protect Harry by pretending.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet-"

"Father told me about it. Someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Harry turned his head, suddenly interested. "What happened to them?" he asked.

Ron turned to him eagerly. "Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone get scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

Draco shrugged as if it was no matter. "I think if You-Know-Who were to return, he would be less concerned with Gringotts vaults and more concerned with rounding up his followers."

Ron shrugged in agreement, though it was interrupted by the compartment door opening again. The bushy-haired girl stuck her head in. "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor and he says we're nearly there."

Excitement built up in the compartment as the three boys changed, making them act sillier. They shoved each other about and gathered the remaining candy to stuff wherever they could within their belongings. "I didn't think I would have this much fun on the train to school," Draco confessed when he sat primly beside Ron, who plopped down without care.

"Why not?" Harry asked. The darkness beyond the glass gave nothing away as to their whereabouts, but it did nothing to stem the excitement.

Resisting the urge to fidget, Draco shrugged. "I don't really talk to many people beyond my father. I thought it would be difficult to make friends."

"We already knew each other, though," Harry protested.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me," Draco asserted. "You never even took my post, and you haven't even told me why."

Harry shrugged as it if didn't matter. "I didn't get it." He would not say anything beyond that, putting both boys in a cross mood.

Ron sighed softly and dug around the sweet wrappers for his rat. Tucking him in his robe pocket, he began to clean things up.

Harry silently joined in. "I'm sorry, Draco. I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?" He silently begged the other boy to understand.

Draco did not, but inclined his head in agreement just as a voice echoed throughout 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."

The boys grinned at each other, the excitement back as they made their way into the crowd getting ready to exit.

After greeting Hagrid, the three boys followed the half-giant. Harry was quivering with anticipation and he glanced at Draco to find him in much the same state. Slipping and sliding their way to a bank filled with boats, Harry gasped audibly when he caught sight of Hogwarts.

There were similar exclamations throughout the crowd as they were ushered into boats. Harry thought the train was majestic, but Hogwarts was truly a sight to behold. There were so many lights, and it was huge.

Harry shivered in the night air as the boats lurched forward. He was in a boat with Ron, Draco, and the busy-haired girl—Hermione. It was not until they were at the door and Hagrid was knocking that the truth of the matter really hit Harry. He was at Hogwarts. He made it.

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