Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Hogwarts Express. I do, however, own the Hogwarts Connect. I don't own anything else in the chapter except most of the dialogue. Just the speeple peaking.

Again, I am removing the bold from ex-canon lines. The story will probably want a rewrite, I suppose, but I can't imagine people who really haven't changed that much saying different things! Ex-canon lines will start to disappear over time, though.

Summary: A Harry Potter who spent four years on the London Underground now has to deal with a magical education. Canon diverged in 1987, no matter what you may think while reading this. Yes, it's this one. The one with all the trains. Go back and read from the start if it doesn't ring a bell.

I'm going to re-address my point about things not having changed much. Sure, Hermione's joined up with Harry and Ron early, but only her and Ron are really changing at this point in time. To this end, I'm going to rush through some events because they stay the same as canon, though the story arc is starting to happen.

On a less serious note, the spell checker I am using is trying to change Malfoy into Malformed. I take pride in the knowledge that my computer is not a Tom Felton or Jason Isaacs fanmachine (the mechanical version of a fangirl/fanboy).

Harry Potter and the Hogwarts Connect

by whoturnedoutthelights

Chapter 6: Wolverine Longbottom, or Bedlam and Broomsticks

After their first week, things began to settle into a routine. They weren't casting many spells in classes (mainly because in Charms they were focusing on wand movements, and because of Professor Quirrell's inability to teach more than theory), but the teachers piled homework on them all the same. On the second Wednesday of term, Ron, who did not enjoy the work, snapped.

"This is boring," he moaned. "Why are we even bothering to wave our wands in silly patterns, it's not as if any of us can't do it. Can't we play chess or something?"

He continued in this vein for another few minutes until Hermione pointed out to him that if he wanted to do magic, he'd have to learn the wand movements.

Harry, who was enjoying Hogwarts (with the glaring exception of Potions, of course), waved his wand absentmindedly. It squeaked at him, and he looked at it perplexedly. Shrugging, he continued the wand movement practice.

Something purple and fluffy ran past him, making burping noises, closely followed by Fred, George and their friend Lee Jordan.

Yes, Harry was enjoying Hogwarts.

Well, he was, until on Saturday morning he woke to find a piece of parchment pinned to the noticeboard, talking about Flying Lessons, which would be starting on Thursday - and Gryffindor and Slytherin were learning together. Harry wasn't happy about this, for reasons ranging from "I'm going to make a fool of myself in front of Malfoy" to "Human beings aren't meant to fly on sticks of wood". And he wasn't the only one with these worries - Hermione and Neville seemed to be freaking out as well. Ron attempted to reassure them.

"Flying's perfectly safe, it's great! There's loads of charms on the brooms, so it won't break underneath you, or anything."

Unfortunately, Ron had picked precisely the wrong moment to say this, as Fred and George materialised on either side of him just as he finished the sentence.

"Well, I wouldn't trust the school brooms not to break underneath you," George pointed out. Hermione buried her head in her hands.

"Yes, if you go too high, they'll start vibrating," said Fred, winking.

"And they'll veer off to the left quite suddenly."

"No-one's died in years."

"Can you shut up! You're not helping!" snapped Harry. Fred stepped backwards in apparent shock.

"ANYWAY," said Ron loudly, "you don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself. It's a bit of a lottery, flying - some people are really good, some people aren't. I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

"Malfoy?" asked George. "You mean Lucius Malfoy's kid?"

"Yep, that's the one," said Ron. "I mean, he's supposed to have all the best tutors, and yet he's still only average in lessons. Hermione beats him hands down every time."

Hermione lifted her face out of her hands. Fred and George grew identical, evil grins. Ron hit Fred.

"Our dear brother struck me!"

"This demands an act of revenge."

"You have been warned."

"Come on," said Ron, leading Harry and Hermione down to breakfast.

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared their dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Ron's attempt at consolation had only partly worked. Harry could now deal with flying, but Hermione, usually the most logical member of the trio, had got even more nervous. Fred and George evidently had had an effect on her, and she had retreated to the library all weekend. On Sunday evening, she came staggering onto the common room, carrying four heavy tomes and a small, paperback book.

After History of Magic on Monday, Hermione returned three of the heavy books to the library, keeping both Encyclopedia Futharkia and, surprisingly, the small paperback book, which was called "Quidditch Through the Ages", which she spent the following two days perusing.

On Thursday morning, Hermione's nerves had risen to such a panic point that she started reading the book aloud. This did not help anyone - Neville, who was doing remarkably well despite having a track record of accidents, was hanging onto her every word. Dean Thomas and Lily Moon, the other Muggle-borns in first year Gryffindor were starting to get nervous as well, and everyone was glad when the mail arrived, because it interrupted Hermione's talk.

Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things - this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red - oh..." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet,

"You've forgotten something..."

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Very few of the school brooms jumped into the hands of their respective first years, which was probably to be expected. Harry's broom had, Malfoy's broom had, and so had the brooms of Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil and Gregory Goyle. Ron's was slowly making its way into the air, while Hermione's was twitching on the ground. Neville's was not moving at all.

Eventually, all the brooms were in the air - it was partly a test of confidence, as Madam Hooch explained, as normally you'd just pick the broom up from the ground. She then taught them how to mount their brooms - Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two - one"

Neville, who was obviously worried about being left on the ground, kicked off hard, then rose into the air, higher and higher. Madam Hooch took out her wand, ready to stop him, when the broom, true to form started turning to the left. Neville, thirty feet off the ground and frozen with terror, simply slipped off the broom and fell.

WHAM - Neville hit the ground hard. The broomstick soared through an open window on the fifth floor, but nobody noticed this. Madam Hooch bent over him.

"Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get.".

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Hermione stared at Neville as he limped away.

"That was a fifty foot fall! That should have killed him, how is he still alive?" she whispered to Harry.

"Accidental magic - that's really, really powerful stuff," said Ron. Harry, however, was distracted by a commotion. Draco Malfoy had bent down and picked something up from the ground.

At dinnertime, Harry was hungrily devouring a steak and kidney pie, while telling Ron and Hermione about his appointment as Gryffindor Seeker. Ron was so surprised he dropped his fork.

"Seeker?" he said. "But first years never - you must be the youngest house player in about -"

"- a century, said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt particularly hungry after the excitement of the afternoon. "Wood told me."

"Professor McGonagall rewarded you for breaking the rules?" Hermione said. She'd managed to remember she was holding a fork, but it was a close call.

"What was I supposed to do, Hermione?" asked Harry. "Neville may be able to fall fifty feet and simply get a broken wrist, but I don't think a glass ball could manage the feat!"

"So when do you start training?" asked Ron, a little too loudly. Angelina Johnson, a third year, looked over at them and made a frantic shushing motion, as did Harry.

"Keep it quiet, Ron," said Harry. "Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.

"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too - Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?" Hermione looked appalled. Malfoy looked between Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other. "What is a wizard's duel?" said Harry. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Harry and Hermione looked at him in horror.

"People only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

"Real wizards - what are we then?" quipped Harry. Hermione wasn't convinced.

"What if you get caught wandering around at night?" she asked. "Then you really will get expelled. Anyway, Malfoy's probably not going to risk it going there."

"Why wouldn't he?" asked Ron.

"Use your brains, Ron, why would Malfoy risk expulsion? He's probably going to tell Professor Snape or something, and then you'll be in real trouble."

Ron looked up at the staff table and shuddered at the thought of Snape looming out of the darkness in the trophy room.

"It would be just like him, the sneaky git," he said. "If only there was a way to check whether he was going to leave the Slytherin common room..."

"Where is the Slytherin common room?" asked Harry. Hermione tilted her head in thought.

"Dunno," said Ron. "Fred and George would, though." He looked down at the twins, who were halfway down the table. "I'll ask them later."

Ron never did ask Fred and George about the Slytherin Common Room, because he was too busy attempting to explain wizarding duels to Hermione, who had, as usual, a barrage of questions, such as:

"Is it like an honour duel?"

"Is it magic only, or is contact allowed?"

"Do people still do it?"

and of course, once she'd managed to ascertain enough, went on a rant about barbaric wizarding traditions. Only Neville had the daring to interrupt, which was quite unlike him, thought Harry, and Hermione only came to a stop when she remembered there was still a two foot essay about goblin wars.

Ron and Harry did not end up going to the duel when Professor McGonagall entered the common room five minutes before curfew started, and informed the room at large that under no circumstances was anyone to break curfew that night and go to the trophy room.

"That bloody Slytherin!" said Ron. "Language!" said Hermione. Ron shut up.

The next day, Malfoy was pretty shocked to see Harry for some reason. He didn't say anything though, which surely meant he hadn't turned up to the trophy room either. Filch looked downcast as well, but Harry, Ron and Hermione paid him no mind.

The next event of note happened a week later, when a long, cylindrical package carried by six large screech owls made its way down to where Harry was sitting. As the owls took up all the free space on the table, Hermione quickly moved Encyclopedia Futharkia off the table and made shooing motions at the owls, who were now eyeing the bacon greedily. Harry opened the note on top of the package.

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE.

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.

Professor McGonagall

Harry handed the note to Ron, who looked absolutely gleeful, and then picked up the package and headed down the table, trying to get it out of the Great Hall. Whispers broke out throughout the hall - it was pretty obvious that the package contained a broomstick - but Harry was not accosted until he was in the Entrance Hall, where Malfoy had just come out of the entrance to the dungeons. He grabbed the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he spat at Harry. "First years aren't allowed them, you won't escape this time!"

Just then, Ron came out of the hall, grinning from ear to ear.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, Harry! That's the best... what are you doing, Malfoy? Give back Harry's package, you slimy git!"

Malfoy threw the package at Harry.

"Take your broomstick, Potter, you won't have it for long. Come," he said, and he moved towards the Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle slouched after him.

Hermione was Not Happy that Harry had received a broomstick for breaking the rules, but she stopped arguing when Neville walked by her, Remembrall in hand.

Harry, of course was a natural at flying, and at Quidditch, once it had been explained. The game of Quidditch was invented in 1017 at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in a collaborative effort between the pioneering sage Lunatius of Northallerton and the Hogwarts Founder Salazar Slytherin. Why Slytherin never took credit for this game is an issue I shall address later in the tale.

The original version of Quidditch is quite a simple game at heart - like many Muggle games, there is an attacking and a defending element to the team. Due to the less dangerous nature of this prototype of the game, heavy, homicidal iron balls were added purely to cause death and destruction, because that's more fun to watch, and of course more players had to be added to knock them about. But overall, the prototype version of Quidditch was a simple seven by seven game, with three Chasers, two Keepers and two Beaters. With there being two Keepers, Quidditch scores from the early days of the sport were always very low - especially since the game had a strict 4 hour time limit.

What we now know as the modern version of Quidditch came about in the late 1200s, when the wicked fast and damn near impossible to see Golden Snidget bird became part of the game. One of the Chasers was repurposed to become a Seeker, and it was his/her job to contribute to the mistreatment and near extinction of the species. It was not long until conservation efforts meant the Golden Snidget was banned, and a mechanical version was sought. For several years, the Golden Snatch ball was used as the replacement - this was a simple bouncing ball, charmed to rocket around the pitch at high speeds, yet was still subject to Selwyn's Laws of Motion and Burke's Law of Gravitation. This ball was unpopular, as Seekers tended to rocket around the base of the pitch, making them difficult to watch, and since the ball had not been charmed to evade other players, it often doubled up as a third, highly dangerous Bludger - indeed, it is seen by some wizards as the precursor to the modern bullet. It was some five years later when the celebrated Wizarding inventor Bowman Wright finally invented the Golden Snitch, which is the ball used to this day.

Author's Note

It's taken me far too long to get through these early Hogwarts chapters (they are not my favourite part to embellish for readers who tend to be Harry Potter experts). I am attempting to advance the plot, though. Yes, there is a plot, quite an intricate one. It's not just rambling.

I am going to reiterate that the story diverged in 1987, and that I have read Quidditch through the Ages. For those expecting some trains, I am sorry to disappoint. Hogwarts does not have many trains, although there will be rail related twists coming in a few books time.

This was a short chapter, because I really need to keep going with this story.

Good reviews are like the Levitation Charm - they lifts the person up and provide a defence against trolls.

Selwyn's Laws of Motion

1) A Charmed Object in a state of uniform motion will remain in the same state of uniform motion unless acted on by a Movement Inducing Charm, or a Movement Reducing Hex.

2) The Magical Power of a Movement Inducing Charm is proportional to the magical core of the caster to the power of three and the acceleration of the object affected.

3) The Magical Power of a Movement Reducing Hex is proportional to the magical core of the caster to the power of seven, inversely proportional to the mass and proportional to the acceleration of the object affected.

4) For every Jinx there is an equal and opposite Counterjinx.