Warning – English is not my first language and I have no beta right now, so if you see some mistakes let me know what and where they are. If you don't see them, go find a pair of glasses or some English vocabularies and grammar books, because you're either blind or ignorant. Hell, there are probably some mistakes in this warning! Or maybe in this last sentence… or in this one… or in this one… or in this one… I think you got it.
Disclaimer – If by reading this story, you find elements that are similar and/or about something you wrote, then you are either JKR (who owns the Harry Potter Universe by the way) or another fanfiction author who I chose to compliment, criticize or mock somewhere in here. Enjoy.
Chapter 4: Trapdoors and Platforms
"Open up! You stupid trapdoor!" Harry grumbled pulling the brass handle with both his hands.
He was sweating profusely and mentally wondering where had gone into hiding the infamous English bad weather. There were more than ninety degrees Fahrenheit and the air was hot and sticky. Sporadic gusts of wind were the only relief for the poor miserable human beings who ventured out into the open.
But the problem was that Harry was not in the open.
The boy reached for his wand on the floor near him and casted on himself a weak cooling charm. He sighed in relief when he felt his skin suddenly chill. Magic really is useful.
He was crouched in the middle of the Lovegoods' little shack, trying to open that damn trapdoor on the floor, in vain. He discarded his wand again and resumed with the physical assault on the brass handle.
He had tried the magical way too. Magic really is useful, right?
Not in this instance, apparently.
Opening charms? Useless. Parseltongue's orders? No effect. He had even tried to blast the trapdoor open with a Reducto, but to no avail.
It was locked and had no intention whatsoever to let Harry jump in its passage.
"Why don't you just open up!" he screamed against it, not a little annoyed.
Harry sighed tiredly and sat on the floor right in front of the entryway that led to the past… roughly a month in the past. He wiped the sweat away from his forehead and a strong smell of metal filled his nose, not entirely unpleasant, but surely not delicate. He had pulled that damn handle for quite some time.
"Let's think… think… think…" murmured Harry like it was a powerful mantra of some sort.
The first time around, Luna had opened the trapdoor by hand with little to no effort. Now it didn't move in the slightest. And while Luna at the time had been a twenty-seven years old woman and now he was an eleven years old boy, Harry doubted it was because of lack of physical strength that he couldn't effectively lift the wooden hatch.
Maybe it could only be opened by an adult. Maybe only by a Lovegood?
Another important thing was that the trapdoor seemed to be able to somehow absorb magical energy. When he had casted the Reductor curse against it, there had been no blast. The light of the spell had struck the wood but had seemed to disperse.
Harry raised his old wand again and casted a standard detection charm. Immediately a faint blue glimmer appeared on the brass handle, revealing the presence of magic. The boy then used a more advanced spell and this time four more glimmers lit up at the four corners of the trapdoor. Licking his lips, excited, Harry used the best detection charm he knew and he had to narrow his eyes to shield them from the lights that now came from the wooden surface.
He just had the time to notice how the four corner lights were connected to the one on the brass handle by tiny bluish lines, when the entrance door of the shack creaked slightly and a booming voice scared the shit out of him.
"Who's there?"
Harry's head snapped towards the voice's direction and he started to point his wand at a tall figure who stood in the doorway. The afternoon sun shined over it and Harry relaxed slightly noticing that the hands of the newcomer were currently empty. The boy relaxed completely when he finally saw who the man was.
Xenophilius Lovegood was a very tall wizard. His every movement, even the littlest, was somewhat clumsy, slouchy, giving the impression of a teenager who had grown up too fast and had yet to understand how exactly his new developed body worked. His long white hair made him appear older, and his crossed eyes weirder.
People often mistake weirdness with stupidity – but Harry knew better.
Xenophilius Lovegood was not stupid. Far from it.
He was a very talented wizard with a great mind. He just used it for things most people would judge stupid. Harry could use his help with the strange trapdoor, and considering it was his trapdoor anyway, odds were he knew how to open it already.
Harry stood up from his crouched position and turned around facing the newcomer completely. The man wore a plain beige robe. It would have been completely normal – an abnormal thing for him – if it hadn't been for the oval hole in the front that showed the skin around the navel. The fact that said skin was hairless and on top of it, smeared with strawberry jam, revealed Harry that he had interrupted the annual chase of the Tridestep Bunghogs.
"Good afternoon Mr. Lovegood. How's the Bunghogs' chase going? Any luck so far?" asked Harry really interested. He had taken part to four editions of that event and the third time he had been able to catch one of those creatures all by himself. That wasn't an easy task, not even for the veteran and expert Mr. Lovegood, who had complimented him generously at the time.
Xenophilius seemed delighted by the question, a big smile threatening to split his face in two.
"Oh, little Luna has just caught her very first one. She ran after it from the woods, cornered it near the house, and then pounced on it like a panther," he said proudly and a little sigh escaped his lips. "She was the picture of her mother."
Right at that moment, from a little farthest came the excited shouts of a little voice.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Soon enough a ten years old Luna Lovegood appeared in the doorway next to her father.
Her blonde hair and bulged eyes were already there, but there was something off in how she looked in comparison to Future Luna and Harry didn't grasp exactly what was different. Anyway, she wore the same 'outfit' of her father, a beige robe with a hole at the belly level, but there was a furry little creature in her arms, happily lapping at the strawberry jam on her skin.
"Look! Look! The jam is about to finish! Should we add some more?" she asked very excited but with a slight anxiety in her tone. She hadn't even noticed Harry, her attention completely captured by the marmot-like creature on her stomach. The little animal was producing gurgling slurping sounds, its reddish tongue moving swiftly across the girl's belly. The Tridestep Bunghog had a lean brown body, short but protuberant frontal teeth, a little black nose currently smeared with jam and a very long tail. Its hand-like paws grasped Luna's robe as if afraid to fall down, despite the girl's firm grip.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. It will fall asleep soon. Then we'll start studying it," said Xenophilius beaming at her. "You did a great job."
The blonde girl seemed to calm down at that and glancing in Harry's direction, she finally noticed him.
"Hi. Do you like it?" she asked showing the little creature in her arms with a big proud smile on her face.
Harry grinned. "It's cute," he said and Luna nodded in agreement. "Is it male or female?"
Luna started answering but then stopped. She closed her mouth, frowning a little. She then turned towards his father who had a similar expression on his face.
"How do we know it?" she asked him.
"Well…" Xenophilius started making a jerking wave with his hand. "I suppose…"
"Here," said Harry advancing towards them and stashing away his wand. "Let me take a look at it."
The two Lovegoods watched as the dark haired boy lifted the Bunghog's tail and crouched a little to peer under it.
"There," he said standing up. The animal smelt of wood and musk despite the area Harry had just sniffed at wasn't exactly the best to do it. "He's male."
"How can you tell?" asked an awed Xenophilius.
Apparently, most of the man's discoveries regarding the Tridestep Bunghog had yet to come, because Harry had been told that particular thing about those little creatures by Mr. Lovegood himself. The Tridestep Bunghogs are a vastly unknown species, not at Nargles' or worse Snorkacks' level, but close enough. The fact that to find and study them you have to fulfill a specific series of unusual conditions doesn't help the matter.
"Have you ever seen them breeding?" Harry asked and both man and girl shook their head. "They entwine their tails and the male insert his sexual organ in the female's. Both are under their tails. Here, take a look."
The boy gestured at Xenophilius and the man crouched in front of his daughter and the creature. Harry held the tail up for him while the man peered under it.
"Wow…" he breathed out, fascinated. "It's so tiny that if I hadn't known it was there I would not have noticed it."
"Now, now, Mr. Lovegood. You cannot go around insulting people's virility like that," said Harry in a chastising tone.
Sure enough, the Bunghog's tail shot out from the boy's hand and slapped the man on the face lightly. The fact that Harry had made no effort whatsoever to prevent that, went unnoticed. The little creature stopped licking for a moment, huffed sleepily once at Xenophilius and then started licking again, his eyes half closed. Mr. Lovegood just rubbed his injured cheek, continuing to stare under the animal's tail.
"I want to see it too!" Luna exclaimed excited, shifting pivot foot restlessly, and Harry found himself wondering again what was so different in her. There was something off, he was certain of it.
Anyway, the Bunghog didn't seem to mind too much all that bouncing and kept on lapping at what remained of the strawberry jam. He wasn't licking furiously anymore, sign that it was both satiated and tired. His grasp on the girl's robe was weakening as well.
"Wait till he falls asleep, dear," Mr. Lovegood soothed her.
Then the man erected himself and stared at Harry for a couple of minutes, his crossed eyes unnervingly unwavering. Well, one of the two was pointed at his own nose, but the other was unnervingly unwavering on Harry, sure.
"Who are you and who told you what you know of the Tridestep Bunghogs?" he asked, his voice slightly awed.
Harry just watched Xenophilius in his good eye for a long second.
"I'm Harry Potter," he then answered with a small smile, "and the person who taught me those things is you."
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
"Hmmm… interesting," mused Xenophilius kneed in front of the trapdoor in the shack near his house.
"Quite," Harry agreed next to him.
They were finally examining the mysterious entrance after a long discussion about it and about Harry's travel in time. The boy had decided not to omit anything relevant to both the Lovegoods and he was happy about it. It had turned out that neither Xenophilius nor Luna knew anything about the trapdoor – not even its existence – but the man had resourcefulness, knowledge and genius, and it appeared like Harry could use some of them to unravel the mystery.
Both man and daughter had tried and failed to open the trapdoor, much to Harry's disappointment. There they went his 'Adult only' and 'Lovegood only' theories. Maybe it could only be opened under certain conditions – a specific weather, day of the week, of the month, of the moon phases...
Evidently, it was easier to study its magic.
Or maybe not.
In the next two hours, Harry and Xenophilius examined the trapdoor scrupulously. The ward that protected it and gave it power was absolutely alien. There was not a single rune they recognized. Worse, there was not a single rune that had even a vague resemblance to any kind of known wizarding symbol.
The ward – or wards for what they knew – didn't respond to wand magic like every other ward did. They had tried numerous spells of cursebreaker's level to open the trapdoor, to overcharge its magic, to undo it, you name it.
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Harry and Xenophilius were quite frustrated.
Luna came and went bringing blocks of sheets, beverages and news about the Tridestep Bunghog sleeping in the backyard. At the end of one of her trips, she came near Harry watching him casting spells and reporting something on a piece of parchment. She hadn't said anything during all the previous conversation about Harry "the time-traveler" Potter, but apparently, she did have something to say.
"So… you traveled back in time?"
"Yep," replied Harry continuing to write down what effects his spells had.
"And you are twenty-seven years old?"
"Huh huh."
"But in human or in dog years?"
Harry thought about it for a moment before making up his mind, but the question demanded that he gave all his attention to the one who had asked it. He put down the quill and turned around to watch her in the eyes. "In human years," he answered. "In dog years I'm four," he explained with certainty and Luna nodded.
"I'm freshly one," she said happily.
"Wow, you're a young lady then!"
"Thanks" she said sheepishly putting a strand of her dirty blond hair behind her ear and showing her large gray eyes.
Gray eyes?
"Luna, is that your natural eye color? Gray?" Harry asked puzzled.
"Yes, why?"
"Huh, nothing…"
So, that was what he found off in Luna's appearance. She had gray eyes. Future Luna's were blue more or less – certainly not gray – but apparently they had changed through the years, although he didn't remember her with anything different than blue eyes. Anyway, now that he had finally found out what bothered him, Harry felt more comfortable, although he had to admit he thought Future Luna's eyes were more attractive than Present Luna's.
Harry resumed his work and started reproducing one of the runes of the brass handle on a piece of parchment. It wasn't simple. Those runes were exceptionally elaborate.
Luna observed what Harry had just jotted down. "It looks like a hoof," she said.
"More like a claw really," replied Harry after an instant of assessment.
"It doesn't seem like a claw at all. It resembles a hoof."
"Yeah? And what would this thing be?" asked Harry in a mocking tone pointing at a part of the rune slightly crooked.
"It's clearly a blade of grass partially trapped under the hoof," Luna answered immediately.
Harry laughed derisively. "That's a claw!"
"A hoof!"
"A claw!"
"A hoof!"
Xenophilius was a little annoyed by all the noises the two kids were producing, but fortunately, the argument didn't went on much longer… just another five minutes… without the littlest variation...
When Luna had finally gone back to the sleeping Bunghog and there was silence in the shack once again, the man gave up his work on the trapdoor and stashed his wand in his pocket. He turned towards Harry who was jotting down some runes muttering something about stupid hooves under his breath.
"I don't think it's a human ward, Harry," he said.
The boy sighed lightly, moving his eyes from the parchment to meet Xenophilius'.
While neither of them had yet voiced it because of the consequences it would have meant, that idea had been lingering in the air for quite some time.
"Me too," Harry said. "The runes are carved perfectly, but they just don't make sense. They don't seem to follow any geometrical pattern, nor represent anything existent." The boy paused for a moment scratching his chin. "They're just like baby doodles. They seem completely random."
The man nodded in agreement and the two of them remained silent for a while.
It was in these occasions that Harry really longed for a Dumbledore-like beard to stroke pensively.
A non-human ward…
It was absolutely a first, a never-heard thing. Creatures like Giants, Goblins, House-Elves… they all have magic, but not refined enough to create an actual ward. Enchantments? Sure, Goblins are renown for them. Spells? Just watch a House-Elf snap his fingers. But a ward? No, it had always been judged impossible. Only Wizards can create wards. Giants can in some instances overwhelm one with their physical strength and high magical resistance. Goblins can collapse one given the proper enchanted artifacts and such. House-Elves can pop in a out of one in most occasions. But create one? It's impossible. Only Wizards can create wards, everybody knew it.
And yet, here in front of Harry Potter and Xenophilius Lovegood, there appeared to be prove of it being inexact.
"I'm sorry Harry, but I think there's nothing I can do," Xenophilius said facing the magic of the runes and finally breaking the silence. "I wasn't even aware of the existence of this trapdoor despite this had been the Lovegood property for centuries. Maybe in the family library…"
The man paused in mid-sentence. It sounded elaborated, unnaturally so, like it was meant to forcefully attract Harry's attention.
It accomplished it perfectly.
"The family library?" the boy asked.
Xenophilius turned around with a malicious smile on his face and a gleam in his eyes. "Yes, the Lovegood family had always had a great library. Many of the books in it had been written by my ancestors – some by me as well. There is the history of my House in that library, and much much more. Would you like to search your answers there?" he asked in an alluring tone.
Harry was a little wary. He had known Xenophilius very well in his previous life, and he knew the man hadn't been in Slytherin for nothing. But, what the hell, Harry wanted to unravel this mystery, and searching in that library could have been the only possible way. He wasn't thinking anymore about jumping again into the passageway to enjoy another month before going to Hogwarts. He wasn't thinking about poor Quirrell's destiny neither. What he wanted now was to find out what the hell that trapdoor was.
"It would be great, sir," he said with a determined expression and Xenophilius grinned wolfishly.
"It isn't common for an outsider to gain access to the Lovegood library, but it has been done in the past under particular conditions. Let's make a deal, shall we?"
Harry nodded and Xenophilius' smile widened even more. The man put his hand on Harry's shoulder and turned him around driving him gently towards the door of the shack.
"Come with me. We have to talk."
They exited the little shack leaving scattered pieces of parchment, some quills and the mysterious trapdoor behind.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
The first of September at half past ten in the morning, Harry Potter stood in front of the platform nine and three-quarters ready for Hogwarts and his first year… sort of. He had brought his trunk right in front of the barrier and Hedwig's cage rested on it. The owl was currently glaring with her yellow eyes at all the passersby who kept on staring at her like she was a zoo animal of some sort – really… –, and she had previously ruffled her white feathers, in a quite snobbish gesture. Harry had just shook his head at her with an amused expression.
The summer heat seemed to have taken a day off and for the first time in weeks, it was finally possible to breath again without fear of internal combustion. Harry wore a white T-shirt with some sort of brown logo in the front, gray trousers and white shoes. His hair was messy as always and a black fringe concealed the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. His two wands were each in its proper holster, the old one on his left forearm – hidden by a notice-me-not and a disillusionment charm –, and the new one on his right, in plain sight because of his short sleeve.
He had also charmed his trunk lighter in order to push and heave it easily, something that without magic was completely impossible for him to do at the moment, firstly because he was a little boy now, and secondly because the trunk was heavier than ever. The fact that there were a lot more books than just his school ones could partially explain it.
He was bringing to Hogwarts fifteen of the hundreds books belonging to the Lovegood family library. He had in fact accepted Xenophilius' offer – quite happily actually.
Harry Potter was now the Hogwarts anonymous correspondent for the Quibbler.
It had happened very fast and the deal had been signed soon. Harry had become the only Quibbler reporter inside Hogwarts and would be paid with fifteen books – borrowed – from the Lovegood library per article.
Harry thought it was a fair payment especially considering he was looking forward to write those articles more than reading those books, or almost anyway. Xenophilius had told him he had tried for years to hire someone to write from Hogwarts for him, but he had never found anyone willing and/or capable. He could have waited till the next year and Luna's stay at Hogwarts, but the girl had admitted she wasn't very interested in it and the man didn't want to impose himself. Plus, despite he had talked to Harry for just a few hours, Mr. Lovegood had seemed sure the boy would have been perfect for the job. And most importantly, the man wouldn't even have to fork out money to pay him, and that was certainly a good thing.
Anyway, Harry already felt a little sorry for Snape, who was about to become the main target of his articles. Poor Snivellus… he won't know what hit him.
"Harry!"
The shout interrupted his musings and he turned around to see Ron Weasley advancing fast towards him, pushing his trunk with a big grin on his face.
"Hey Ron."
"How are you?"
Harry just nodded and asked "You?"
Ron narrowed his eyes playfully. "I'm fine… are you still talking in monosyllables?"
"No," the dark haired boy replied dryly chuckling, and the red-head laughed too.
"Yeah, I can see that."
Ron was soon flanked by the Weasley clan, a sea of freckled red. George and Fred stood at each side of their younger brother roughly matching his height, Molly was a step behind them with a sheepish Ginny in tow, and Percy stood at little distance on the right, a small pout on his face. It could have been an intimidating sight if it hadn't been for the smiles on almost every face.
"Hello," greeted Harry with a nod and a grin of his own.
"Hello dear," Mrs. Weasley replied with a gentle smile. "Ron, why don't you introduce us to your friend?"
"Huh, okay…" Ron stammered a little, uncertainly. "Harry, Family. Family, Harry," he offered simply before seeing the reprimanding expression on his mother's face. "Huh… these are Fred and George" he continued pointing vaguely at his two identical brothers, "Percy," he nodded in the Prefect direction, "my mother," and here he blushed beet red childishly, "and behind her, my little sister Ginny. He's Harry," he then said addressing his family. "Dad and me met him at the Cannons match," finished the boy lamely – and incorrectly –, shrugging self-conscious.
Harry nodded at everyone and spared a "Hi" for the uncomfortable little girl. The Weasleys replied with polite nods and cheery waves.
"Ah, so you are the boy my husband told me about. It's a pleasure to meet you. He had only good things to say about you," Molly said.
"Mr. Weasley must have omitted a good portion of our meeting then," replied Harry grinning. "But thank you anyways."
The woman smiled curiously at him and then addressed the twins for the last warnings and threats. The two were keeping on glancing at him and so was their sister.
Harry ignored it and involved Ron in a conversation.
"So, are you nervous?" he asked.
"Maybe a little…" replied the freckled boy. "But mostly, I'm hungry."
Harry shook his head, amused. Trust Ron to react with hunger to everything.
"Still ready to do the big jump if the great Slytherin will greet you in his open coils?"
Ron laughed, worried but not so much. "I had a talk with Dad and I think I will let the coils squeeze a little before eventually jumping."
Mrs. Weasley finally freed the twins and took a step forward. "All right, Percy, you go first."
The Prefect advanced towards the barrier and disappeared beyond it.
"Fred, George, you next," Molly continued. She turned towards the twins and found them rummaging in their trunks. "What are you doing?"
"Sorry Mom," replied one of the two. "We have to find something really important first. Go ahead with Ginny. We'll make sure Ron pass the barrier without problems."
The woman hesitated for an instant, then took hes daughter's hand and walked briskly towards platform nine and three-quarters, whispering instructions to her. When they weren't visible anymore, the twins straightened and fastened their trunks again. Apparently, they were lying. The two boys made their way towards Harry and Ron, two matching big grins on their faces.
"Are you him?" the one on the right asked Harry.
"Who?"
"Are you the Harry we think?" asked the left one.
"It depends… If you think I am Harry the Merry, you may be right."
The twins burst out laughing while Ron looked on with a puzzled frown. Fred and George kept on glancing at Harry's forehead until the one on the right asked…
"Are you Harry Potter?"
The dark haired boy smiled while Ron turned towards him with a flabbergasted expression on his face.
"Yeah, I am Harry Potter, twin number two," he answered addressing the red-head who had finally asked it outright.
"Why am I the number two?" said the twin in question with a mocking hurt expression and a hand on his heart.
"You're clearly the sidekick. I can tell."
The other twin was nodding his head in agreement. "True. True. The lad has a good eye, cannot deny it."
"What's your name?" Harry asked him grinning.
"George."
"No, that's your twin's probably. I bet you are Fred." Now both the Weasley boys were smiling openly. "I would like to continue to play with you, but I think we have a train to catch."
That said, Harry turned around, pushed his trunk and walked through the barrier.
Fred and George smiled faintly before turning towards their shocked little brother.
"You befriended the Boy-Who-Lived-"
"And you hadn't even noticed it."
"And Dad neither. But what is worse is that-"
"He is a Cannons' fanatic too!"
They tsked synchronically shaking their heads and then pushed the boy lightly.
"C'mon Ronnikins or we'll miss the train. Walk straight and you'll be there."
Ron did just that, his mouth still opening and closing repeatedly.
When he arrived on platform nine and three-quarters, it was only to find himself crushed in a bear-like hug. A mass of red hair obstructed his sight and soft sniffs reached his ears.
"Moooom," he complained loudly, blushing furiously.
Mrs. Weasley interrupted the hug but kept her youngest son at arm-length. "Behave yourself at Hogwarts. I don't want to receive Howlers from you as well." She let him go but added as an afterthought, "And study!"
"Yes, Mom."
"Now on the train before it departs! Your friend is already there."
Harry watched everything from not far away. He had immediately approached one of the compartment in the middle when he had seen the lean form of Rita Skeeter round on a poor little kid who vaguely resembled him.
He was about to board the Hogwarts Express, while listening to the Weasleys conversation and looking all around him at the students and parents exchanging their good-byes. When he heard the twins start talking about him, he heaved Hedwig's cage and his feather light trunk on the train and made his way in the narrow corridor. He passed various older students who he didn't recognize and when he reached the very last compartment, he glanced inside to find who he was looking for.
"Hey Rip!" he said opening the door. "How are you?"
At Harry's shouts, Ripcage startled badly, actually jumping up from his seated position near the window from where he was peering out. The half-goblin sat again, watching with a smile the newcomer tuck away his stuff.
"Fine considering I'm about to be lynched by all the Hogwarts' habitants," he said smiling grimily.
"Well, then as last meal, I suggest to raid the food cart and stuff ourselves with Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands and most importantly Every Flavor Beans. If I find a green one that seems Avada Kedavra flavored, then I'll give it to you so you can die painlessly as last resort."
Ripcage chuckled, a little of his nervousness gone.
Harry finally sat in front of his friend near the window, and studied him intently.
The half-goblin was wearing a dark green robe on top of a pair of black cotton trousers. His brownish face appeared haggard because of too little sleep and the bags under his eyes proved it furthermore. His hair and eyes were changing color at fast speed, brightening and darkening alternatively, and his long-fingered hands clasped each other tightly. He was evidently tense.
"Relax mate. You wanted this for years. Now you have it," Harry said trying to sooth him. "We'll have fun and make friends. Actually I'm going to introduce another first year to you soon."
The half-goblin took a deep breath and seemed to calm down a little. Harry pressed on.
"I'm sure the Headmaster gave you this long and responsible speech about what to expect, how to react, who to trust and other such things regarding this school year." The dark haired boy waved dismissively with his hand. "I will only say: enjoy it. Do whatever you want – bury yourself in books, train from sunshine to sunset - or viceversa -, play exploding snap, chess and Quidditch all day long. It's you who decide, really. Just don't spend your day brooding about what others say or do. You can stay at Gringotts to do that."
Harry watched his friend's face gradually gain determination, his hair and eyes stabilizing themselves to green. Ripcage gave him a resolute nod and a thankful half-smile. Harry just grinned.
Right at that moment, a whistle sounded from the platform and the intensity of the shouted goodbyes between students and parents seemed to intensify. A few seconds later, the Hogwarts Express took speed and departed from platform nine and three-quarters.
Ripcage let out a deep breath watching out of the window.
"We're off."
Suddenly, the door of the compartment slid open and Ron took a step in, dragging his trunk.
"Harry! Why didn't you tell me-" he started addressing the dark haired boy only to then interrupt himself after his eyes had shifted on Ripcage.
Ron stared at the half-goblin completely still, open-mouthed and with an expression of pure shock on his face. He stared at Rip's brown and wrinkled skin, at his long fingers, at his purple hair and at his slightly pointed teeth now set in a threatening grin. The Weasley youngest son hadn't been very often at Gringotts, but even he did see that the one in front of him wasn't a normal goblin. If his brain had been working, it would have probably considered if bolt out of the compartment or if shut itself down along with his consciousness.
Harry grinned despite he was trying not to. He stood up and took Ron's trunk from his hand.
"Come in Ron and sit down," he told the red-head, stacking the luggage in a corner. "And close your mouth" he added while the other boy complied, his mouth still open, his eyes never leaving the half-goblin who continued to show his teeth menacingly.
Harry closed the door and took his seat again.
"Rip, that is a reaction you'll probably see very often the first days of school," the dark haired boy said cheerily waving in Ron's general direction. "You probably should wear a T-Shirt that says 'I'm half-goblin. So what?' or something similar, but nobody would see it under the Hogwarts robe." He shrugged a little before his expression became thoughtful. "Although a hat could be useful… Anyway, Ron, this is Rip. Rip, this is Ron. It sounds like some kind of cartoon characters – Rip, Ron and their great adventures. Eww…"
The red-head seemed to finally regain his composure.
"Hi… err…" he told Rip. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Uhm… sorry if I…"
"Stared," Harry finished for him.
"Yeah," said Ron blushing beet red. "Sorry."
The half goblin let his face turn expressionless. "Okay."
"So you are… huh… half-goblin?" Ron asked.
"Yes."
The boy turned towards Harry.
"And you are… huh… Harry Potter?"
"Yep."
"Huh… Okay."
The compartment door slid open again revealing Fred and George.
"Hey Ron, we're going down the middle… of… the… train…" they said contemporary trailing off once they saw Ripcage. The half-goblin was at the limit of his patience. Another second of that shocked staring and he would have drawn his enchanted knife and set the two red-heads on fire.
Fortunately and surprisingly, he didn't need to do it, because Ron jumped up and shouted at his brothers.
"Don't stare like that! You are being rude! Where did you left your manners, in your trunks? Go away and don't bother us!"
He shut the door forcefully in his brothers' faces and draw the curtains, leaving behind an even more shocked pair of twins. When he turned around he found Harry and Ripcage with their eyebrows lifted.
"Sorry," he said grinning sheepishly. "Just a little revenge for a couple of things…"
"I can imagine," nodded Harry. "Twins can be quite problematic at times."
"What do you mean?"
"Well… I think I had a twin in a previous life or something, and he was a spoiled git who always took credit for all the good things I did," the dark haired boy said with a bit of annoyance in his voice.
"Huh, I don't know about that, but Fred and George are perfect to each other. It's to others that they are unbearable! Only Bill, my oldest brother, can subdue them a little."
"How many brothers have you got?" asked Rip who found a large family very interesting. Goblins don't, or better, can't have more than two children. It's a genetic thing.
"Five brothers, all older than me, and one sister."
"And they all go to Hogwarts?"
"No, just the twins – they're third years – and Percy – he's a fifth year. Bill and Charlie graduated already, and now Charlie studies dragons in Romania and Bill works for Gringotts… maybe you know him?" Ron half-asked.
"No, sorry. I'm not allowed to work with humans," Rip answered shifting on his seat, a little self-conscious.
"Oh. Because you are…" the red head made a vague gesture with is hand and the half-goblin just nodded.
"Oh," Ron murmured again. "And what's with your hair and eyes?"
"I'm a Metamorphmagus."
"Wow. My dad says they're pretty rare. It has to be great to be one!" exclaimed Ron fascinated while he watched Rip's hair shorten and become brown.
Harry could clearly see how this kind of attention was completely a new thing for the half-goblin. Oh yes, Ripcage was used to all the stares and whispers, but they were always shocked, distrustful, horrified reactions. But now, this red haired boy was watching him with interest and something comparable to awe.
The half-goblin smiled a little and turned his hair red, very similarly to the Weasleys' color. Ron whispered another fascinated "Wow".
The three of them talked for a while, all the previous tension seemingly gone. They talked about Rip's ability, Ron's family, Harry's scar and, obviously, Hogwarts.
At some point during the conversation when Ron was commenting on how everything he had was second hand, the boy reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat. Harry's eyes narrowed a little and a strange smile appeared on his face.
"This is Scabbers. He was Percy's pet, but now that he has been made a Prefect, he got an owl from my dad. So Scabbers is mine now. All he does is sleep. He's useless…" said the Weasley youngest son. The rat continued to sleep, unabashed by Ron's attentions, the sunlight, and all the noises a train full of excited children can produce.
"You could always cook it," suggested Ripcage and the red-head chuckled a little before realizing that the half-goblin wasn't joking at all.
"You would eat him?" Ron asked more than a little disgusted.
"With olive oil, salt and lemon… sure, why not?"
Harry couldn't help but laugh at the image of a "Wormtail" Sandwich in his mind, but the Weasley boy just made a nauseated face wrinkling his long nose while looking at the rat on his lap. He decided it was better not to continue that discussion.
"Anyway," he then said regaining his composure and not noticing the grin on Rip's face, "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 shrugged a little before intoning, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"
Ripcage, who had been holding his breath in excitement, was a little disappointed when Ron waved his wand and nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.
"Wasn't something supposed to happen?" the half-goblin asked curiously.
"Yeah, it was," huffed Ron annoyed. "Stupid spell – George gave it to me… bet he knew it was a dud."
"Pity," Harry said. "It was a cool incantation."
"Yeah, wasn't it?" agreed Rip. "How was it again?"
The train soon left London and ventured into huge and colorful fields, and when the cart lady opened the compartment door to ask if they wanted anything, Harry kept his promise and bought an incredible amount of sweets that he shared with his two friends and – unwillingly – with Scabbers who woke long enough to swallow half a Cauldron Cake.
They talked and ate for a long time before the compartment door slid open again.
Neville Longbottom came in, his round face twisted in an almost desperate expression. His elegant robe would have made an impression maybe, if it hadn't been for a series of reddish little spots – probably jam – at chest level.
"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"
Ron and Rip shook their heads, while Harry showed a Chocolate Frog in his hand with a gentle smile. The boy smiled a little as well, but just for a moment, before his expression turned sad again.
"I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!" he whined.
"Here," said Harry taking his new wand in hand. "I'll find him. What's his name?"
"Trevor," replied the chubby boy looking at him and his wand with wide eyes.
"Accio Trevor."
Soon enough, Trevor came flying steadily from the back of the train and entered the compartment, ending on Harry's lap. The dark haired boy took the toad in his left hand and offered him to Neville.
"Thank you!" the blonde boy half-shouted with his high-pitched voice. He held Trevor tightly to his chest, cooing over him softly, before he seemed to remember that various people were watching him, so he stopped and blushed furiously. The toad made gurgling sounds that attracted Scabbers' attention. The rat lifted his head from Ron's lap and regarded Neville's pet with a sleepy expression.
Right at that moment, they heard running footsteps and a little girl appeared in the doorway. She had bushy brown hair, rather large front teeth, and she was already wearing her new Hogwarts robe. Hermione Granger was puffing slightly, her face a little red.
"Neville! I saw a toad fly past me at the back of the train and I thought it was Trevor. I wanted to catch it before he could be hurt, but he was going too fast and I had to sidestep a lot of students who were wandering through the corridor. But I see you have him now and he's okay. How did you do it? Was that some kind of magic?" the girl said all in one breath, looking at Neville and at all the other boys in the compartment. Her gaze lingered a little on Ripcage, but then fixed itself on Harry's wand.
The dark-haired boy answered immediately… singing. "It's a kind of magic. It's a kind of magiiiic. It's a kind of magic. One dream, one soul…"
He stopped fairly early because everybody was watching him like he was insane. Hedwig too.
"What kind of Englishmen are you if you don't like Queen?" Harry said angrily. "Tell me that the Beatles suck too then, and I'll jump off the train right now!"
There was a pause in which everybody seemed to consider Harry's words.
"Technically I'm only half Englishmen," Rip replied thoughtfully.
"And I'm an Englishwoman" specified Hermione.
"Huh… I'm half Scot," added Ron quickly.
Everybody turned towards Neville – yes, Hedwig too – who looked around as if searching for help.
"I… I like the Beatles," he stammered uncertainly.
Harry though about it for a moment before nodding. "Alright."
It was Hermione the one who broke the following silence… obviously.
"So that was magic, right?" she asked watching the dark haired boy. "I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. 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 Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"
"I'm Harry," the dark haired boy replied.
"Ron Weasley," the red-head said, sparing a curious glance at his friend who seemed to never introduce himself… properly.
"I'm Ripcage."
"Ah, I'm Neville Longbottom… ah, nice to meet you," the round boy said shyly still clutching Trevor tightly.
"Are we all first years?" the girl asked and everyone nodded. "So what spell did you use to make Trevor fly like that?"
"It's called the summoning charm. It can be really useful," Harry answered, and when he finished, his eyes glimmered a little and a grin threatened to split his face in two. "And I know many other spells. I could teach you if you want."
All four heads nodded and Harry stretched his left arm towards Scabbers on Ron's lap. "May I? I will only put him to sleep," he asked the boy.
The Weasley youngest son shrugged and passed him the rat. "Sure… although for once that he was awake…"
Harry took Scabbers in his left hand, squeezing more than what was really necessary, and then put him on the empty seat next to him. Ron's pet squealed a little in distress at the boy's roughness, but soon enough he found himself on a soft cushion so he stopped complaining. He kept his liquid eyes up on the kids in the compartment and fearfully took a few steps backwards – no easy feat for a rat – when the dark haired boy pointed his wand at him.
Harry was grinning so much his cheeks hurt. Oh, how he would love this. And after all, he did have promised Kreacher that he would have briought him his Master. He would simply combine business with pleasure. Or maybe pleasure with pleasure, considering who that Master was going to be.
The old elf had all but hugged him when he had told him that his Master would have been at home in a month, top. The little bugger had sworn and promised repeatedly, with the solemnity of a teenage-girl who has to keep her friend's secrets, that the house would be ready for his Master, when actually it had been shiny and perfect for two weeks and more. Harry had tried to calm him down a little, but the psychotic elf was hyperactive all right, and Harry could not order him around. They were not bonded and on top of it, Kreacher didn't think of the boy as a wizard to serve. Hell, maybe he didn't even consider him a wizard at all! A buddy House-Elf – that was more like it.
Anyway, it was time to set in motion the plan to help Sirius Black exit Azkaban, and if he could do it and conteporary have fun, then all the better. It certainly wouldn't be the canine Marauder to criticize him for it.
"Right," he said with a big grin on his face. "Watch and listen very carefully. Stupefy!"
Hermione, Ron, Neville and Ripcage all watched in awe as a red light started from the tip of Harry's wand and hit the little form of Scabbers, engulfing him for a second before disappearing. The rat who had been left in its wake was once again asleep.
Ron stood up and accosted a ear to his pet. "He's snoring already," he breathed softly.
"Neat, huh?" Harry said. "Come on. Try it."
Everybody drew his wand and tried casting the spell. Harry encouraged them, gave them suggestions and corrections after their first failures. He seemed very willing to repeat the Stunner on Scabbers, to show them the proper waves and pronunciation of course, again, and again, and again. After a while, no one had yet been able to manage it, so Harry proposed them other spells to try.
Soon enough, Wormtail was sporting a very furry tail, blue skin, knees on the wrong side of his paws, and had been stunned at least fifteen times. While all the Stunners had been Harry's doing, after a while Hermione had been able to lengthen the fur on the rat's tail, and Ron to color him from yellow to blue. Ripcage and Neville hadn't managed anything yet, but they hadn't any intention of giving up, and they were having fun anyway, talking about Hogwarts, the four Houses and magic in general.
After some time, Hermione left the compartment with a proud expression on her face – having changed Scabbers's skin color too – to speak with the conductor of the train. Neville had just been able to lengthen the rat's fur a little more when the door slid open again and three boys stepped in. Draco Malfoy was in the middle, his pale blond hair slick and slicked as usual. His pointed chin was sharp as ever, but his gray eyes lacked that cold quality that had been very evident in Future Draco. The boy was flanked by his two wannabe thugs, Crabbe and Goyle, who didn't even deserve first name mentioning. They were thickset, stupid-looking and stupid-being.
Malfoy jr. looked at everybody in the compartment and, quite predictably, stopped his gaze on the strange goblinish boy who sat near the window. Have I really to describe his reaction? Go reread Ron's. It was not that different. Suffice to say, for about five seconds, all the three newcomers seemed of very similar IQ… a very low one.
"Hey there," said Harry snapping his fingers in front of their faces and breaking their stares. "Did you want something?"
Draco opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, his eyes darting back and forth from Harry to Ripcage, his expression still very shocked.
"Ehm… I'm Draco Malfoy. I heard that Harry Potter's in this compartment," he seemed to prefer to ignore the half-goblin for the moment. "It's you, isn't it?"
"Yep," Harry nodded, ignoring Neville's head snapping in his direction. He didn't have to look to know that his brown eyes were currently wide.
Malfoy jr. was still stunned. "Hum… well, I wanted to… hum... I wanted to… Excuse me, but what in Salazar name is that thing?" the boy asked finally with apparent disgust.
The temperature in the compartment seemed to drop abruptly, and the pale boy suddenly noticed how everyone in front of him held a wand in hand, including that creature, who was now showing menacing pointed teeth and narrowed red eyes.
"That thing is a person and a friend of mine. You should try and remember it, McFinn," Harry said in a dangerous tone.
"My name is Malfoy!" Draco snarled, but Harry waved dismissively with his hand.
"Whatever. Now, what did you want?" he asked. Ripcage behind him had been happy to hear those words from Harry. It was the first time someone called him a friend. His hair and eyes changed to a bright green for a moment before the half-goblin turned again to glare at the pale boy in front of them. Red eyes seemed preferable to glare so he changed them back.
"I wanted to meet the famous Boy-Who-Lived and help him avoid the wrong sort, but I see you already surrounded yourself with it." He sneered in Ron, Ripcage, and surprisingly, Neville direction with contempt, disgust and derision exactly in that order.
"Thank you very much for your great help, Muffin," Harry answered ignoring the angry shout of "Malfoy!" from the pale boy. "Now I know that what you consider the right sort resembles very much a human-shaped mass of dung and I have to say that's not really the kind of company I enjoy."
Draco's eyes widened in rage and he started breathing hard as if he was desperately trying to maintain control while Ron snickered. His usually pale face now had a strong tint of red. "Watch your mouth, Potter," he all but whispered, his voice partly broken by the anger, but he seemed to be unable to say more.
"If you're finished here, I suggest you go back to your compartment, Mallory," Harry finished.
Draco seemed to want to shout his correct name again but in the end he just waved his hands in the air and stormed out of the compartment shouting something that sounded suspiciously like a "Ahhrrgg!". Two very bewildered Crabbe and Goyle followed him diligently.
As soon as the three boys disappeared, Ron started snickering again, soon mirrored by Harry and Neville.
After a couple of seconds, the dark haired boy stopped abruptly and addressed the red-head. "You think it's funny, Weatherby?"
They started laughing loudly at that, and even Rip cracked a smile.
"Stop joking around!" came Hermione's voice from the doorway. She stood with her hands on the hips and had her patented bossy expression on her face. "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. I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors." Her disapproving tone and sniffy voice would have made Professor McGonagall proud.
Harry turned towards her and patted the cushion next to him, while placing his wand in its right holster again. "Hermione, come here. Sit down."
The girl hesitated an instant before doing what the boy told her. As soon as she was seated next to him, Harry assaulted her, tickling her mercilessly. At first she tried to swat his hands away, but the more she laughed the more she lost energies. In the end she could only trash on her seat trying to cover her most ticklish areas.
When Harry stopped after about thirty seconds of that torture, she was breathless, red-faced and giggling like a madwoman. Everybody had those silly grins on their faces because you can't remain serious when someone is laughing like that. It's something contagious.
"Harry… you… you…" the girl screeched between giggles.
"Thank you, Hermione," replied Harry grinning.
"You should see your face!" Ron laughed.
"Yeah… You're all red," added Neville gesturing to his cheecks with his hands, smiling. "It's like you want to be angry but you can't."
She seemed to finally regain her composure. She tried to glare at Harry but the silly grin on her face didn't want to disappear. "Why did you do that?"
Harry watched her seriously.
"Hermione... you say you disapprove of childish behavior. But we are children. We act like children. We think like children." He smiled gently. "And you are a child too."
Silence descended in the compartment. All eyes were pointed on the dark haired boy and the bushy haired girl. Hermione was still very red and after a few seconds of eye contact with Harry, she had looked down. She made to speak a couple of times, but in the end she stood up and stopped on the doorway, her back towards the boys.
"You'd better put your robes on. We're nearly there," she said in a small voice before disappearing in the back of the train.
The four boys exchanged uncertain glances in the silence that followed. Then Harry clapped his hands once and rubbed them together. He looked out of the window and saw that the sky was darkening and the train was slowing down.
"Okay!" he shouted cheerily. "Let's change!"
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
Author's notes – The color of Luna's eyes will be important later. For now, just know that "Future" Luna has blue eyes, while "Present" Luna's are gray.
I fixed the other mistakes you signaled. Thank you.
I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but whatever. Let me know what you think.