Okay, first I know that chocolate frogs only have one good hop in them...I think...but I messed with it a bit so we could have the fun scene there at the end...also...the train ride lasts all day, in case some of you were wondering, and Harry's not supposed to meet Hermione yet...and I know emo is a relatively new concept and wasn't around back in the early 90s but I don't care.

And then since a couple of people have pointed it out Harry does not have full control of his assests, Dumbledore is pretty much looking after the money he gets/spends and that's followed by Rubella and Minerva, so Harry has money, but he doesn't have access to it...yet.

A big thanks to my reviewers and to timydamonkey for betaing, and for the comment about Malfoy and the other children together making one average looking fat person...apparently, we're both on the same crack or something...

Chapter Seven: Go Baby, Go, Go!

Harry crossed his arms and stared at the wall before him.

"I swear to God, you people seriously need to get checked out or something because damn," Harry told Ruebella, "I mean, what the fuck—"

"Language, Harry," Ruebella chastised, "and the train's on the other side."

"I gathered that," Harry replied. "I'm talking about the wall. Can you people get any less creative? 'Oh,'" Harry mocked, "'here's an idea that's never been done before — we could have them go through a wall.' If this was in a movie, I would never pay to go and see it."

"Even if the acting was good?" Ruebella asked with a grin.

"If the acting was good," Harry replied, "then I might think about it, but with a cliché like this, you know the acting won't be any good."

"Just out of curiosity, what if you were in the movie?" Ruebella asked.

"If I was in the movie," Harry stated, "then the movie wouldn't suck, and no one would notice the going through walls thing, because guess what, I'd be completely overshadowing it."

"You know," Ruebella sighed, "it's amazing that an abused, neglected child can come out of such a situation an egomaniac."

Harry grinned and held his arms out and declared, "I just have mad skills like that."

"Harry dear!" Harry heard the very motherly voice of Molly Weasley call out and he took off running into the wall. Then he grabbed a blonde, stuck up looking boy and skidded behind him whispering, "Hide me."

The boy jerked away and replied snootily, "Malfoys don't hide people!"

"Really?" Harry asked curiously, "You're a Malfoy?" Harry looked over the boy, noticing the heavily gelled blonde hair and pale blue eyes. "I've never met anyone from a different species before! My name's Harry, do you have a name or do Malfoys not have names?"

The boy didn't appear to know what to make of this and simply glared at Harry.

"Harry, that was rude and unnecessary," Ruebella reprimanded as she walked up to him; apparently there was no escape from the woman she could even follow him through walls…

"Isn't everything I do?" Harry asked curiously, "But you can answer that later! This boy's a different species, they call themselves Malfoys."

Ruebella choked and covered her face with her hand. "Harry," she sighed, "his surname is Malfoy."

"Oh, so you were just referring to yourself in the third person!" Harry exclaimed in understanding, and then he leant close to the boy and confided, "Just so you know, that's a sign of insanity."

"Come on, Harry, why don't we go talk to someone else?" Ruebella suggested, and she took of Harry's arm, but he wasn't quite ready to move onto another victim just yet.

"Nice hair, by the way," Harry told the albino boy brightly, "Is that to get rid of the lice?"

"Harry!" Ruebella exclaimed.

"What did your child say to my son?" a firm voice, sort of similar to Snape's, demanded. Harry turned to look and then raised his brow.

"You know, I think they are their own species," Harry remarked, "That coloring is just too specific…not only that but me and Ruebella aren't even related."

"Actually, Harry, we are related," Ruebella replied, "In fact, you're related to a lot of the people here."

Harry stared at Ruebella, speechless and mildly horrified.

"Because of all the inter-breeding betw—"

"You mean inbreeding?" Harry demanded, now looking distinctly horrified, "Oh God! I'm a redneck!"

"Harry," Ruebella said, slightly amused, "it's okay—"

"Yeah," Harry replied, throwing his arms up, "because we're all family here, right?"

"What's wrong with him?" Mrs. Weasley asked curiously, apparently Harry hadn't managed to outrun her… damn that Malfoy boy for thwarting him.

"I told him about the interbreeding and he freaked out," Ruebella replied.

"Yeah," Harry said to the people who were staring at him like he was crazy; clearly these people needed to reevaluate their definitions of crazy. "Because, who knows, I might be my own grandfather!"

"That's impossible," Mrs. Weasley replied gently, and the Weasley twins looked at each other, raising their brows and Harry hated to wonder what they were thinking about.

"Okay then," Harry retorted, "since you can't accept that I could marry my father's mother, and I may very well do so. Let me freak out about something else—I might have six fingers!"

Ruebella groaned and rubbed her temples. "Why don't you count and see?"

"Well, I would," Harry responded, "but because of all the genetic disorders I have, I am unable to think in any sort of complicated manner—outside of insulting all of you for making me like this."

"Harry," the little future romance novel addict explained with a strange, slightly perverted smile on her face, "because of magic—"

"Oh, go read a romance novel," Harry snapped at her, pulling his wand out of his pocket, "or better yet, come over here and let me cover you in multi-colored dots, because in case you hadn't noticed, I'm having an emo moment over here."

"All of this is completely beside the point," the tall, devilishly handsome blonde man interrupted, "That child accused my son of having something as inferior as lice."

"I was just trying to understand the bad villain look," Harry explained and then he leveled his wand and pointed it at everyone in the assembled group, "and the next person to ruin my emo moment gets splattered with multi-colored dots."

"Harry," Ruebella warned, "I told you not to do that somewhere you could ruin things."

"Well, it's too bad you're not my mother," Harry replied, "or I might listen to you, but as it were, she's dead, so I don't have to listen to anyone…unless, because of the 'inter-breeding', you are, in fact, my mother."

"And if I were?" Ruebella asked curiously.

"Then I would scream like a little girl," Harry replied, "and quite possibly end up accidentally splattering everyone with multi-colored dots, so the point would clearly be moot."

"You're a little pain, you know that?" Ruebella told Harry, brushing his hair affectionately.

"It's part of the job description," Harry replied cheekily. "But speaking of inbreeding, no offense to either the living Malfoys or the Weasleys, just the ancestors, but did the two of your families work together to achieve the hair colors? I'm quite stunned at the hues you people have created."

"Limits, Harry," Ruebella reminded.

"I'm curious!" Harry exclaimed, "I'm trying to learn, damnit, and this is the encouragement I get!"

Ruebella swatted lightly at him and directed Harry to: "Shut your mouth, apologize, and get on the train."

"I can't apologize if you want me to be quiet," Harry exclaimed, "It doesn't work that way! Haven't you ever done those 'put the scene in order' questions?"

"Yes," she replied with a grin, "but you seem like the type to put them out of order on purpose for comical reasons. I was just trying to speak your language."

Harry had to admit that was a pretty clever cover-up for a mistake, but Harry wasn't quite ready to give up and be put on the train…where was the stupid thing anyway? He'd been told it was bright red and Harry couldn't help but wonder why they let Gryffindors design everything. He was sure having everything red was nice, you know, in Hell, but it gets tiring to look at.

In fact, Harry had half a mind to believe that a Gryffindor decided they should all wear dresses.

Of course, Harry was basing this belief and many others off the décor in the Gryffindor Common Room, which he was allowed into because he was all nice and cozy with the Gryffindor Head of House…and he of course got to see all the other House Common Rooms because he was all nice and cozy with the deputy headmistress, so Harry knew exactly which houses had fashion sense…

Then Harry found himself being gently pushed away from the blond Malfoy creature… Harry wasn't done with him yet! Ruebella couldn't make him leave now!

Then the pale, foreboding man (foreboding in the manner an incubus is foreboding, that is) grabbed Harry's arm and declared, in that uppity, 'I'm gay and know it, but you better not say a word' tone, "You will not be leaving until this child apologizes to my son for—"

"Even suggesting that such a well-protected head might even be able to get a single, healthy louse within fifteen meters of it," Harry finished brightly. "Then yes, I do apologize, staunchly and readily to your blonde Highness, because clearly a Queen such as yourself couldn't produce off-spring capable of contracting an ailment as low as 'the lice.'"

Harry just smirked up at the man and tried to ignore the uncomfortable, shocked silence that was rapidly spreading all around him, like the uneasy feeling that was coiling in Harry's gut.

The man knelt down enough so that his eye level was somewhat near Harry's and Harry carefully leant away, his wand clenched tightly in his hand - though multi-colored dots wouldn't do much to stop the man from killing him, they might serve to be distracting enough that Harry could start running away.

"What's your name?" the man asked coldly and slightly speculatively.

Harry blinked and glanced around him before replying, "Harry…"

"No last name?" the man inquired, as though this were the part he was most interested in.

"Well, I have one," Harry replied, "but if I tell you, you might be able to track me down and, like, break my radio or eat my candy, or perhaps do something similarly horrifying."

The man cracked a smile, so Harry figured he wasn't in too much danger, though the albino man seemed to ooze danger like a bad action hero.

"You aren't worried for your personal safety?" the man asked curiously. "You seem like a realistic child—"

"And when I look at you, I think, realistically, that you'd like to hit me where it hurts with minimal pain to yourself," Harry explained, "and so I don't think you'd try to rape and/or kill me because you'd have to tolerate my complaints in order to so, so..." Harry smiled and shrugged.

"Interesting," the man replied, still looking slightly thoughtful, "I have another question—"

"Well, I'm no Ms. Cleo," Harry replied brightly, "but I'll do my best."

This appeared to go over most peoples' heads, but he paid them no heed.

"Where did you learn such vernacular?" the man asked curiously and like he used words like that daily, but he wasn't fooling anyone… and if he thought Harry didn't know what vernacular meant, he had another think coming.

"Primary school," Harry replied with a smirk, "Had to do something to keep the other kids from picking on me…turns out a thesaurus goes a long way on the battlefield…or playground, but I find it to be pretty much the same difference."

The man smiled and appeared to process this and stood up again, and then held his hand out.

Harry hesitantly took the gloved hand after checking to make sure there wasn't a poisonous snake up his sleeve or something… and the man actually had a very firm handshake for being so feminine, and Harry was aware of Ruebella breathing a heavy sigh or relief.

"I'm Lucius Malfoy," the man said, "and I do hope that you and my son will become good friends."

Harry waited until his hand was safely returned to him before he replied, "You are some kind of crazy bipolar, Luscious. First you yell at me for being near your son and now you want me to hang out with him."

"It's Lucius," the man instructed Harry firmly, carefully pronouncing every syllable, "However; you may call me Mr. Malfoy—"

"What is it with you adults and giving people permission to call you by your last name? It's like public property anyway…"


Harry crossed his arms and sank down further into his seat as he glared deeply at Ronald Weasley, who was glaring right back him from the seat across from him…they'd been on the train doing this for a good twenty minutes… this was, also, honestly the longest amount of time he'd had to endure Voldemrot's presence.

And yon Voldemrot had a lean and hungry look on her face that made Harry worry for his virtue…or at least a few layers of skin that the bird of prey could easily remove.

Then the door was opened somewhat hesitantly, and Harry broke his glare away from Ron and focused it on the interloper. The door suddenly opened more confidently and Harry smiled when he saw the boy that he'd met while getting fitted for his dresses.

"Hello," the boy greeted brightly, unprompted, "I guess you didn't get out of going to Hogwarts then?"

"Not quite," Harry replied, "and everyone seems to want to off me; they'd trapped me with a rabid bird and a boy I'm sure would kill me if given a proper reason."

The boy smiled at this and then moved onto why he was really here. "Well, I've lost my toad; I don't suppose you've seen him?"

"You do know that frogs went out of style years ago, don't you?" Ronald Weasley asked, and Harry must admit he found that to be rather rude, after all it wasn't like anyone actually wanted a frog, and this boy had a toad anyway.

"It's a toad," Harry corrected, "and it wasn't like he wanted it, someone gave it to him."

"At least he got a new pet," Ronald Weasley replied grumpily. This child had way too much resentment for people as far as Harry was concerned… "I got my brother's old pet."

And then he pulled his rodent out of his pocket, and Harry squealed and pulled his feet up to his chest. Voldemrot, however — the freak — looked very, very interested in the rat.

"Wh-why," Harry asked, disgusted and, not that he would admit it, terrified, "why do you keep a rat in your pocket?"

The rat squirmed in Ron's hands and Harry gagged and shuffled back further into his seat. "Oh my God!" Harry gasped in horror, "Put the damn thing away!"

Ron held the squirming rodent by its tail and held it out in front of Harry, smirking, "What?" he asked, "Don't you like rats?"

Voldemrot made a slight squawking noise from beside Harry, and with a motion that was almost a twitch, Harry unlocked the owl's cage and the bird pushed the door open and launched herself at the rat.

"Bloody insane!" Ron yelled at Harry and pushed his rat back inside his robes to protect it from the hungry owl. "Were you trying to kill Scabbers?"

"It's gross!" Harry retorted, and Voldemrot gave up and went to perch back on her cage. "Stupid gross, diseased rats…I can't stay here with you and your dirty rat! Tell you what…" Harry blinked and looked at the slightly amused and confused boy in the doorway.

"Um… Neville," the boy replied after he gathered what Harry wanted.

"I'll help you look for your toad, because I can't stay here," Harry told Neville. "Come on."

He pushed himself up from his seat and scampered past Ron quickly, hoping to avoid the concealed rat completely.

Harry turned back to look at Voldemrot and told her, "If you want to escape, now would be the time to do so."

The owl hooted at him in a condescending manner and Harry glared at her.


"Hello, fellow Hogwarts students," Harry exclaimed brightly, after throwing the compartment door open on the canoodling couple, his hand covering his eyes, "I am currently aware of your position and I was just wondering if either of you decided to let your kinky side out and use a poor innocent toad in your perverse activities? If so, could you please clean and return said toad to me."

"What in hell is wrong with you?" a highly embarrassed female demanded.

"Better question," Harry replied, "Have you seen the toad or not?"

"No, we haven't seen your toad," an aggravated male replied. "Now leave, you little pest!"

"I'm afraid my pestilence is just beginning," Harry replied with a grin. "Have you heard anyone discussing having found a toad?"

"No, we've been in here the whole time!" the girl replied, annoyed. "Will you leave?"

"Will you please make yourself decent?" Harry countered, "My hand is going numb, and may I compliment your boyfriend on his inability to get it up, because I find that to be more likely than a sixteen year old having stamina…because you have been in here for hours, right?"

"We haven't seen your stupid toad, so leave!" the boy hissed, angrily.

"I'm afraid it's not my toad, and I'm going to be forced to remove my hand momentarily to restore blood flow, so you're going to be exposing yourself to an eleven year old, with a camera, that can easily send something, like a photo to your parents," Harry replied. "Now tell me whether or not you've heard or seen anything about the toad?"

Harry heard the rustle of fabric then, and the girl said, quickly, "I heard the Weasley twins and—"

"It's a tarantula," Harry replied, "I've explored that rumor; you won't be getting rid of me so easily — are you decent yet?"

"Yeah," the boy replied grudgingly and Harry dropped his hand and studied the two of them. They certainly looked ruffled enough to have been having sex or something of a sexual variety.

"Now, the toad," Harry said with a smile, "Have you seen it, or shall I try a summoning spell? And yes, I can do one; the Weasley twins taught it to me."


"There you are, Neville," Harry replied, carefully holding the toad, "You might want to wash him or something first though."

Neville looked momentarily confused, and took hold of the toad, asking, "Why?"

"No reason," Harry countered calmly as he carefully wiped his hands on Neville's robes. "Just a suggestion."

"All right," Neville replied softly, "Thanks for your help."

"No problem," Harry replied. "I'm skilled in interrogation techniques; might as well use them for good. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I ought to make myself scarce before that girl realizes those dots aren't going to come out of her new silk robes."

"What dots?" Neville asked, confused, "What did you do?"

"The less you know," Harry replied, "the safer you are… and, um… hide the toad."

Then Harry took off running and a girl pushed her way out of a compartment, covered in little multi-colored dots, and Neville just barely managed to hide the toad in time.

Harry skidded into a compartment further down the way and slid the door shut behind him, while the girl banged on the door, yelling for Harry to come out.


"Wow," Harry commented dryly as he looked around at the other first years in the compartment, trying not to look like it was much of an effort holding the door closed, "this is like close encounters of the ugly kind or something, because damn…"

Harry felt his eyebrows hit his hairline when he caught sight of Draco Malfoy sitting next to this horribly ugly girl, whose face looked like it had been squashed together.

"Really, Malfoy, your self-esteem must be something awful if you're hanging out with people this ugly," Harry tsked, "What would your father say to see someone as pretty as you with people ugly enough to make a House Elf thankful for their looks?"

The girl drew herself up and sneered at him, Harry admired her technique. Clearly he would have to practice that look a bit more in the mirror so he could acquire a bit more talent in that area.

"And you two," Harry nodded in the direction of these horrible troll-like boys, "what pair of ugly creatures accidentally bred to create the nuclear fallout that is your face?"

Harry decided to not say anything about the two horrid looking girls, one of whom was the pug-faced girl mentioned earlier and the other this large masculine oaf of a girl… Harry felt rather bad for her and hoped she grew into at least some part of her face, because that was like Night of the Living Hideousness or something.

"But, you know, I guess it's kinda good that you all hang out together," Harry continued brightly, "because together, with Malfoy mixed in, you make one average looking, albeit overweight, person… and that's something."

All of his comments were beginning to grate on the two large, ugly boys, and it looked like they might just try to throw their weight around… so Harry decided he might as well just throw himself over the edge.

"And the lesson we learn with all of you," Harry finished firmly, "is that inbreeding is bad because…well, I don't even need to finish that sentence, do I? Or have your brains suffered as well?"

They began cracking their knuckles and stood up, looking like two great big monoliths. One of them geared up to throw a punch at him and Harry threw open the door and dodged between the girl with the ruined robes and her boyfriend, before taking off and running down the train.

The girl decided to give up on catching Harry, for the moment, and turned to look at all the kids in the compartment.

"Do any of you know who that kid is?"

They all shook their heads and Draco decided to do the same - after all, no one liked a snitch and his father said he had to try and get along with the boy... if it were possible.

"I'm trying to find the little terror," the girl continued, "Do you see what he did to my new robes?"

She showcased her multi-colored dots adorning the formerly unmarred robes. The girls gasped in sympathy.

"There's no telling what that boy will do next," the girl's boyfriend added, "From what I can gather, he's been making a nuisance of himself all up and down the train."


Harry finally skidded to a halt and leaned against a wall, panting, and then he became aware of a few boys complaining about how hungry they were and they started talking about what they were going to be buying from a witch with a food cart.

Harry threw the door open and asked, "There's a lady selling food?"

"Yeah," one of the boys replied, "she sells all sorts of things, mainly candy, but she has some real food."

"When's she going to start coming around?" Harry asked curiously.

"About thirty minutes," the boy replied. "She starts at the front of the train, though. If you're really hungry, you could probably catch her up there."

"All right," Harry replied as he turned to head away, "Thanks, guys… and nice hat — or is that your hair?"

Before they could do anything in retaliation, Harry was gone, and they looked at each other in confusion as though asking each other what exactly that was about. One of the boys got up to close the door to the compartment and then a girl covered with these little specks of paint grabbed the door.

"Have you seen a little boy with black hair and green eyes about this tall?" She held her hand up to about the height the boy had been.

"Yeah, he was just here," one of the boys said, "Why?"

"Do you know where he's going?" the girl demanded.

"He was asking about the food cart…" the boy replied slowly, then asked again, "Why?"

"Oh, God," the girl gasped to her small following, "He's going after the food cart! There's no telling what he'll do with it!"


"Um, hi," Harry said brightly as he caught the witch right as she left the room where the food and everything was kept. "Um, my name's Harry, I think Dumbledore and everyone told you to give me whatever I wanted and they'd pay for it with my money, right?"

"Yes," the woman said kindly, "I believe that's right, what would—"

"I want every single chocolate frog you have," Harry retorted with what he hoped was a straight face.

The woman stared at him for a moment and then asked, "What?"

"All the chocolate frogs," Harry repeated, "I want to give them to everyone on the train so that it'll help me make friends easier. I have a really hard time making friends; ask anybody."

"I'm afraid I will have to ask someone," the witch replied. "That's a very large request."

"I know," Harry replied, "but this is my time to make a first impression, and I really want to make friends at this school."

Harry tried to look small and pitiful… this was his best look; he could do this one without even checking the mirror once a week to make sure his technique was still good.

"I've met so many people I like," Harry continued imploringly, "and I just really want to have everyone like me, and everyone likes chocolate…"

"All right," the woman sighed and she handed Harry the little box of chocolate frogs she had on the cart and then went back into the storeroom, emerging with a large cardboard box.

Harry took hold of both boxes and thanked the woman heartily before walking away, smirking widely.


The group found the witch when she was about halfway through the train and asked her about Harry's whereabouts and doings, and they were, quite frankly, surprised at the answer.

"He bought all of the chocolate frogs?" the girl demanded in shock, "Why?"

"So he could give them away to make friends," the witch replied, "I thought it was a rather cute idea myself."

"Yeah," the girl muttered breathlessly, "very cute."

They all watched the witch move away before the girl asked, "What could he do with a bunch of chocolate frogs?"

Draco coughed and replied softly, "I have a… vague idea…"

/line here/

Harry was about to maneuver his way into one of the cramped bathrooms when he found Neville…or rather, Neville found him.

"What are you doing?" Neville asked, staring at Harry and his box in confusion.

Harry looked up and down the train and then said, "Not out here, come into the bathroom."

The two of them and Harry's box somehow managed to fit into the bathroom with a bit of careful maneuvering and Harry explained his plans to the other boy.

"This is a box full of chocolate frogs," Harry whispered, "and I'm going to unwrap all of them and put them all in the box and then set them loose on the train."

"Why?" Neville asked, looking completely bewildered.

Harry blinked and tried to think up some sort explanation, and settled on shrugging.

"You must have some reason," Neville replied, "I mean…you're setting like a hundred chocolate frogs loose on a train."

Harry shrugged again and then asked, "Do you want to help?"

Neville looked a bit taken aback and he replied, after a moment of thought, "I'll help you unwrap a few, but I don't want to get in trouble before we even get to school."

"Awesome!" Harry exclaimed and he set about opening the box. When the box was opened, Harry tossed Neville a couple of frogs and told him he could keep those.


Neville got tired and decided to leave after they'd unwrapped a couple hundred frogs…apparently there were quite a few hundred frogs in the large box… so Harry was left to his monumental task alone, though he didn't lose momentum.

Harry had settled on the toilet, the box open before him, and he set the cards on the sink next to him. The pile was slowly building as the population of frogs in the box did as well. Neville had decided to keep all of the cards from the frogs he'd unwrapped (apparently he collected the things)… Harry thought them to be as useful as used wrapping paper, but whatever…

Harry moved onto another frog, and then another, until he hit the last one.

"And you," Harry told the frog he held firmly in his hand, "are for me, for a job well-done."

Harry happily ate the frog and then closed the box filled with hopping frogs. Then he stashed the wrapping and containers behind the toilet and pocketed the chocolate frog cards…

Harry moved to the door and unlocked it, checking to see if the coast was clear. It was. He took hold of the box and shimmied it, and himself, out of the small space. Then Harry headed for the back of the train.

Harry passed by the witch on his way there, and he politely thanked her for helping him on his quest for acceptance, but he didn't linger long.

When he reached end of the train, he set the box down on the floor and wondered when exactly he should commence his nefarious, and rather ingenious, if he did say so himself, plan.

"Stop right there!" the girl he'd splattered with dots yelled and she ran toward him, followed by a small group, and Harry decided sooner was better than later. "You little brat!"

"You think I'm a brat now?" Harry demanded, then he smirked and offered, "Trust me, honey, you haven't seen anything yet."

Then Harry pulled his foot back and kicked the box firmly, sending it careening a few feet where it landed on its side, and chocolate frogs flew out, hoping down the hallway. The frogs left trails of chocolate webbed feet wherever they went; chocolate was smeared on walls and doors and they simply continued down the long line of the train…

Harry smirked as the girl's eyes widened and the next thing she knew, she was hit with the plague of frogs. Members of her group dodged into compartments and Harry decided that wouldn't work, so he jumped over the box and ran along with the hopping frogs, throwing doors open as he went, allowing the obscene amount of frogs to fill every nook and cranny of the train.

Girls screamed and ran around while boys chased after them; many of the older students had their wands out as they chased down the chocolate frogs. Doors ahead of Harry opened when they heard the commotion, and Harry stopped his progress, admiring the chaos he had wrought.

…Or would wreaked be better?