The Hogwarts Express
Passing through the barrier that led to platform nine and three-quarters was an experience in and of itself. It felt like his body was being hit with a very mild electric current, not enough to be painful or even uncomfortable, but enough that the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood on end. It was a most unusual experience.
While most people would never think twice about something like this—at least he assumed none of the witches and wizards who passed through here did—Harry couldn't help but wonder at the barrier. What was it? How was it made? Was it a gateway? Some kind of passage that warped the boundaries of time and space to instantaneously take one to their destination? Or was it something as simple as an illusion that had been placed over the platform to hide it from the non-magical population? Harry promised himself that he would eventually find out and replicate the feat someday.
The feeling of amazement and wonder at the magical barrier soon left him when something else caused him to look around in awe.
On the other side of the barrier, signified by a large plastic sign, was platform nine and three-quarters. Everywhere he looked witches and wizards milled about, filling nearly every nook and cranny of space available. Families were giving tearful goodbyes to sons and daughters, and many friends who looked to be returning students chatted with each other excitedly.
Animals of all kinds roamed the platform as well. Harry saw everything from owls hooting in their cages, to cats prowling around the legs of people, and even tiny mice darting to and fro—some to try and get away from the cats—underneath the legs of students and parents alike. And sitting behind it all was a massive scarlet and gold steam engine many of the students were boarding, and a few already had and were poking their heads out of the windows to speak with their parents.
After taking a moment to take the sight in, Harry lifted his trunk, which now had a feather-light charm to make carrying it easier, over his shoulder and started off towards the train. He wove in between several people, gracefully sidestepping a pair of students, first years from the looks of them, that had nearly run into him. It wasn't long before he boarded the train, and after searching through the isles for an unoccupied compartment found one that he quickly entered.
Setting the trunk down on the floor, Harry smiled as he pressed the catch on his wand holster. The wand shot out, and in a smooth, practiced motion, he caught it by the handle, his fingers already resting within the grooves. As soon as his fingers were clasped around it fully, the runes on the wand started to glow a silvery green. The glow was very dull however, nowhere near as bright as when he had first gotten it. In fact, most would probably play it off as a trick of the light.
Harry was thankful for this, as he didn't want people asking questions about his wand when they saw it.
Pointing his wand at the trunk, he watched, his smile growing brighter by the minute, as it began to lift itself into the air. Using his wand to guide the trunks movements, he carefully stowed it in the compartment above the seats. He then sat down and reached into his pocket, where he pulled out a small book the size of his palm. A small wave of his wand later, and the book on magical theory enlarged to its normal size and Harry began reading.
As his eyes wove their way across the pages, memorizing everything they saw, his mind began wondering about the school he was going to, and the small part of him that was nothing more than an eleven year old boy couldn't help but feel excited about the coming school year.
What would he learn when he got to Hogwarts? What would his classes be like? What were the teachers like? The other students? Would he make any friends?...
…
He frowned a bit at that last thought, even as his fingers absently turned a page. Harry couldn't help but wonder where that thought had come from. He had never really been interested in making friends. Back when he was at the muggle school he hadn't seen any point in doing so. There simply hadn't been any benefit in befriending someone when he would eventually be living in a completely different world from them anyway.
That was not to say Harry was a loner. At first, he may have been, but about a month or two after Lisa had stormed her way into his life with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, many of his peers began looking up to him. He guessed seeing him with Lisa made him seem more approachable. And while he still didn't particularly care for any of those people, Harry would not deny he enjoyed the admiration and respect they afforded him.
It had also helped him learn to interact with others. He knew that intelligence could only get one so far. If you didn't know how to talk to people, how would you get a good job? How would you make your mark on the world? How could you gain allies willing to rally behind you when you tried to make said mark? The answer was you couldn't. Thus, Harry had thrown himself into becoming someone the other students looked up to and admired, the kind of guy you wouldn't hesitate to come up to and ask for help or advice, be it for something as simple as school, or more complex problems dealing with life issues.
But now that he was going to a school where he would be meeting people like him, perhaps it would be a good idea to have friends. Real friends. People he could actually share things with, who would stand by him not because he was a leader they were rallying behind, but because they actually cared about him.
It was a childish thought, and Harry felt a bit embarrassed to even be thinking it, but could not deny that the idea to have real friends was appealing. Because as much as he may love Lisa as the sister he never had, the simple fact of the matter was that she was not a witch. She knew nothing of magic, and as much as he wished he could inform her of its existence, knew that telling her, at least for now, would cause problems.
"Mom—geroff!"
A shout was heard over the din of noise from outside and drew Harry's attention to what looked like a rather large family of red heads. There were five in total: a plump woman with a pleasant smile on her face and motherly air about her, two older boys who looked like identical twins, a girl who looked to be around a year younger than Harry himself, and what Harry assumed was the source of the voice, a boy that looked to be around his age. He was very tall, maybe even an inch to two taller than Harry, and gangly. He had large hands and feet that looked slightly out of place on his body, and a long nose. Like the others, he too had bright red hair several shades lighter than Harry's mother's.
One of the things Harry noticed about the entire family straight from the get-go was that they seemed rather poorly off. The robes the three boys wore were worn and slightly ragged, probably second hand robes, and the trunks they were carried looked just as old. The family was probably having financial troubles. With so many kids, Harry could see why.
"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nose?" asked one of the twins in a teasing voice. Definitely older brothers, Harry concluded, remembering how he had once read that older brothers often tend to tease their younger siblings. It was actually part of the reason he sometimes teased Lisa, because even if they weren't related, he wanted that brotherly feeling for himself.
"Shut up," the one Harry now knew as Ron groused. At that point Harry decided to stop listening—it was very rude to spy on people having what looked like a personal conversation between family, after all, and he didn't want to be like Petunia—and returned to his reading. To help with this, because even if he wasn't looking he could still hear every word being said, he put up a very basic spell on the window that muffled the voices outside. It wouldn't silencing them, but it would at least make sure Harry couldn't understand what they were saying.
It was several minutes after he had put up the muffling spell that the train started to move. Out of curiosity, he looked out the window again to see the mother of the boys waving, and the sister half-laughing, half-crying as she ran alongside the train.
For just a moment, Harry's mind superimposed an image of Lisa over the red-haired girl, and he once more felt the sting of unshed tears in his eyes. Gritting his teeth, he quickly looked away and was once more forced to meditate in order to calm down.
Leaving Lisa really was hitting him much harder than he thought it would. It seemed that, for all the preparing he had done to make his leaving easier, none of it had worked. Even now he felt an immense sense of loss, a gap in his heart where Lisa's presence had once been, and even the knowledge that he would see her during Christmas didn't seem to help.
Harry really didn't like this feeling of loss. It made him feel weak, and he had no clue how to fix it. He only hoped this terrible feeling in his heart would fade soon. He wouldn't be able to accomplish anything if he was busy mourning the loss of Lisa's presence; a loss that was only temporary.
The door to his compartment slid open and Harry's head snapped up to see the youngest son of the redheaded family walk in.
"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite of Harry. "Everywhere else is full?"
"Help yourself," Harry said with a small gesture towards the seat, actually glad that someone had decided to sit with him. If nothing else, the red-haired boy would prove an able distraction from his depressing thoughts.
Ron sat down. Harry absently finished the page in his book, and closed it without marking the page number down. It wasn't like he needed to do so to remember where he left off.
He then turned to look at the redhead, who kept giving him curious glances before looking away, and opened his mouth to greet his fellow first year when the door to the compartment suddenly sprung open.
"Hey, Ron," one of the twins that had just barged into the room started. "Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train—Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."
Ron shuddered, "right."
The two twins than turned to Harry, a curious glint in their eyes.
"And who is this?" the other one asked.
For a moment, Harry thought about giving them a false name. He had no real desire to have what happened in the Leaky Cauldron happen here, even if it was on a much smaller scale. But he knew that if he did give a false name, he wouldn't really engender himself to them. Lying to people never did. And Harry hated lying anyway. Deciding that it was better to simply get this over with now rather than later, Harry introduced himself.
"Harry Potter."
The reaction he got was almost as comical as it was expected and annoying. Three sets of eyes widened to the proportion of dinner plates, and three jaws dropped.
"Are you really?" asked one of the older boys, the one on the left.
"As far as I know," Harry replied coolly. He wasn't really sure what to expect, granted, he'd created several plausible scenarios for what would happen when he gave people his name, but that didn't mean any of them would ring true. If there was one thing his first entrance into the wizarding world taught him, it was to expect the unexpected.
"So do you have the scar?"
Harry looked at the one on the right, George, he was sure his name was. After several seconds of staring at him intently, which Harry was pleased to note caused the boy to squirm a bit, he lifted the bangs covering his hair so they could see the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
"Wicked," both older boys breathed as they looked at the scar that had become a symbol to the wizarding people. The younger redhead, Ron, simply stared at him with an open jaw and wide eyes.
"Well," the one on the left, Fred, Harry was sure, said. "It was awesome meeting a celebrity and all that, but George and I are going to head over to Lee's compartment."
Harry sighed in relief as the two left. That hadn't gone nearly as horribly as he imagined it would, though he was displeased to note that, despite his appearance to the contrary, he had been quite nervous. It was to be expected, after all, as the last time people learned his identity he'd been mobbed before he could even get a word in, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy this feeling of anxiousness.
"So you're really Harry Potter then?"
Blinking, Harry turned to look at the boy who had finally managed to snap out of his stupor.
"I am," Harry replied, his voice a bit less tense than it had been as he relaxed into his seat. "And you are?"
"Oh, I'm Ron, Ron Weasley," Ron introduced himself, and while Harry didn't give any reaction other than to nod, on the inside his mind was already going over everything he now knew about the boy. Or, to be more specific, it was going over everything he knew about the boy's family.
The Weasley family, according to Andromeda Tonks, was a very poor pureblood family with a lot of children. They were considered to be something of a joke amongst the more fanatical blood purists, and many of those who were considered 'dark families' felt that they were a bunch of blood-traitors, people who had betrayed the purity of their blood by consorting and sympathizing with muggles and muggleborns. On the plus side, they were a well known light-sided family firmly placed in Dumbledore's camp, and were related to the Prewett's, a now extinct yet once very powerful Ancient and Most Noble House. The Weasley Matriarch was the last of the Prewett line, from what he knew.
Harry's mind was already working out the advantages and disadvantages that would come from befriending the Weasley family. The biggest benefit, of course, was that any who associated with the Weasley's, namely, any light-sided families in Dumbledore's camp, would be on his side. The downside was that it would make getting an alliance with the so called 'darker' pureblood families very difficult.
Of course, the same could be said for gaining allegiance with one of the dark side families, something he was well aware of.
"So that scar is where..."
Harry's mind shifted gears when he heard the boy speak. He focused on Ron, who he noted with some disdain was still staring at where his scar was hidden by his bangs. He didn't blamed the boy. Meeting Harry Potter on a train heading for school was like meeting Sean Connery in a muggle shopping center.
"Yes," Harry answered quickly in the hopes that doing so would get the boy not to ask anymore questions. Just because he understood the boy's curiosity did not mean he had any desire to sate it. The mere mention of his scar brought that night to mind, the night he had lost his parents. He had a hard enough time when he dreamed about it; he didn't want to force himself to relive it during the day.
Unfortunately, the boy did not seem to get the subtle warning in Harry's tone, for he was still gawking at the scar when he said, "Do you remember when...?"
"Are you asking me if I remember the night my parents were murdered?" asked Harry, his voice stone cold and his body stiffening in incredulity and anger. It was taking all he had not to snarl at the boy currently shrinking back in his seat.
Harry stood up and glared down at the redhead, his eyes glowing with fury and his fists shaking. While there were many things that upset him, very few could actually force their way past his carefully crafted facade. Of those things, bringing up the night his parents died was at the top of that list, as his Uncle Vernon once found out when he was thrown threw a window after stating that Harry's father was nothing but a good for nothing drunk who'd gotten him and his mother killed in a car crash. In fact, it had been that very statement that had caused Harry to become such an angry and violent person in his youth—or at least a big proponent of it.
"Where do you get the gall asking me something like that? How would you like it if your parents were murdered by a psychopathic killer and I asked if you remember that night?!"
By now the boy looked about to faint. His body was positively shaking, and his face had gone white. When combined with his wide eyes, Ron looked like he might die from a heart attack.
It was only in that moment, looking at this petrified boy, that Harry realized his magic was beginning to act up. The air was heavy with the smell of ozone, and the very potent feeling of anger. It was as if his rage was manifesting itself on the physical plane.
Taking a deep breath, Harry willed his magic back down, locking it away. The feeling soon vanished, and though Ron's body relaxed slightly, he still looked quite fearful.
Harry walked towards the door, wand already in hand as he jabbed it near violently at his trunk, which floated down beside him. Jerking the door open, he looked back to say, "I would suggest you learn some tact before speaking to me again," before walking into the hallway and slamming the door shut.
Releasing the magic holding the levitation spell, Harry's trunk set itself down on the ground, and he quickly lifted it over his shoulder and began marching down the hall. Many other students looked out their compartment doors when they heard the one Harry had slammed shut, but he paid them no heed. His mind was too busy trying to calm the tide of rage he felt.
How dare that ignorant, uneducated, tactless fool ask him such a personal question! Did the boy know nothing of manners? Even a child should realize such an obviously personal and painful question should never be asked to anyone under any circumstances! It was the most foolish and rude thing anyone could ever do, and a complete and blatant violation of privacy! That boy had seriously better learn some manners before they met up again, because if he didn't, then Harry would be sure to educate him, and it would not be pleasant.
It took a moment for Harry to notice that he was losing control of his emotions. Realizing that he needed to regain his bearings, he stopped walking and set his trunk down, then leaned against the wall and clenched his eyes shut, before beginning his breathing exercises.
It took him a lot longer than he would have liked to regain control over his anger, and he was disgusted with himself when he found that he still felt so angry. He should have better control over himself than this. He did have better control over himself than this. It bothered him that he seemed to be slipping back into his old self before meeting Master Wei.
Frowning, Harry dug deeper into his repertoire and used a advanced exercise for meditation, that being to find out the exact cause for his anger so he could promptly deal with it, rather then push it to the furthest recesses of his mind.
It was rather easy to realize the source of his feelings, or at least the reason why he was having so much trouble reeling them in: Lisa. Ever since their goodbye his mind had been a wreck. He kept conjuring the last image he had seen of her, shedding silent tears before running to her room, unable to look at him because of the pain his leaving brought.
Of course, that wasn't only the reason he didn't have as much control over his emotions as he should. That boy, Ron, had asked him what was quite possibly one of the few questions that truly angered him. That the red head had asked so tactlessly only added fuel to the conflagration.
It was one thing to be curious about someone who was essentially a celebrity in the wizarding world, it was quite another to allow that curiosity run rampant and bring up such horrible memories for the sake of satisfying said curiosity.
As his mind worked through his feelings, Harry's face began to relax. His scrunched eyes untensed, the crinkles surrounding them disappearing. After taking a few deep breaths, Harry let the anger he felt dissipate into the air.
"Excuse me, but are you alright?" a voice behind him asked.
Harry turned around to see a girl about his age with a lot bushy brown hair, brown eyes, and two large front teeth. She was already wearing her school robes, and seemed to carry herself with an inquisitive air. It was not hard for Harry to deduce that this girl was probably a bookworm. Currently, said bookworm's face was looking at him in mild concern.
"I'm fine," Harry told her. For a brief moment, he thought about giving the girl a smile, but only for a moment. He didn't think himself capable of smiling for a while yet. Instead he offered the girl a calm, if slightly neutral look as he addressed her. "Can I help you with anything?"
"Oh! Um, yes," the bushy haired girl said. "You see, I was wondering if you've seen a toad anywhere. Neville's lost his."
Harry tilted his head at the name Neville. He recognized it. Both his mum and dad had mentioned that their two friends, Frank and Alice, had given birth to a son named Neville around the same time they'd had him. He wondered if this was the same Neville as the one his parents spoke of.
"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen a toad anywhere," Harry informed the girl, whose shoulders slumped. Deciding to offer her some helpful advice, he said, "might I suggest speaking to one of the prefects and asking them if he or she can use the summoning charm to summon the toad?"
The girl blinked several times, then her eyes widened. It seemed she hadn't thought of that. Mumbling a hurried 'thank you,' the girl set off to search for a prefect.
That done, Harry made his way down the hall in search of a compartment. He quickly found out that there were no empty compartments. All of them had at least two people in them, and in some cases they were filled to capacity. He passed by several such compartments in his search, before eventually finding one that would suffice.
Knocking on the door, he managed to get the attention of the two girls within the compartment. One of them was a blond haired girl with pig tails, and the other a redhead whose hair was a shade or two lighter than the Weasleys, running more along the coloration of his mother's hair. Both of them looked up when he knocked, and Harry opened the door enough to poke his head in.
"Would you two mind if I sit with you?" he asked, taking in more of their features. The blond girl had blue eyes and fair, unblemished skin, while the redhead had brown eyes and exactly seven freckles dotting her nose cutely. He couldn't see much more than that because they were wearing their Hogwarts robes, but even that was useful, as it told him they were probably raised in the wizarding world—or were very excited muggleborns.
The two girls looked at each other, before the blond looked back at him with a bright smile. "Not at all," she said, her voice just as cheerful as her face. "Come on in."
"Thank you."
Harry walked into the compartment, setting his trunk down before absently pointing his wand at it and using the levitation charm to put into its new place overhead.
Two gasps were heard before the voice of the blond said, "how did you do that?"
Harry turned to see two sets of eyes staring at him in awe. He blinked.
"You mean the levitation charm?" he asked for clarification. When they both gave him a nod, Harry shrugged. "It's just one of the first year spells that I read about in the Standard Book of Spells."
"That's so cool," the blond girl said. "I've tried doing some magic before as well, but I've never been able to get any of the spells to work. And you did it without even speaking!"
"Ah, well, I always felt that speaking a spell is more of a way of focusing, rather than because it's necessary," Harry said diplomatically as he sat down. Not wanting to speak about his skills in magic and possibly incriminate himself, he decided to switch topics. "I'd like to apologize for barging in here; I'm sure you two would rather be on your own."
"Oh, it's no problem." Once again the blond spoke up, waving her hand airily. Already Harry was beginning to notice the dynamics between the two. The pig-tailed girl was clearly the more talkative one. Meanwhile, the redhead was much more quiet and more than a little shy. Even now he could the way she would turn to look at him, blush, then look away. "But now that you mention it, why were you still searching for a compartment? The train has been moving for like, an hour already."
"Let's just say I ended up sitting next to someone who doesn't know the meaning of the word tact, and leave it at that," Harry said with a sigh. The two girls looked at each other, both probably wondering what he meant. Thankfully, they seemed to understand the word tact better than Ron did, because neither of them asked for clarification, something he was very thankful for.
"I'm Hannah," the blond girl introduced herself after a slight pause. "Hannah Abbot, and the redhead with me is Susan Bones." Harry started at the name, recognizing it as one of the Founding Five families that had formed the Ministry. He also, thanks to Andromeda, knew that if this girl was a Bones, then she was also related to Amelia Bones, the current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"A pleasure to meet you," Harry said, taking the hand that Hannah held out to him. He brought her hand to his face and let his lips gently brush against her knuckles in the manner Andromeda had shown him was proper when greeting female witches. The blond girl, Hannah, blushed, and Harry turned to look at a blushing Susan who was already offering her hand to him, which he repeated the gesture. "And you as well." He took a deep breath, wondering if this would end in disaster. "My name is Harry Potter."
"Are you really?" asked Hannah while Susan's eyes widened. Harry flicked his gaze towards the blond girl for a moment, sighed, then sat back down after letting Susan's hand go. With his hand free, Harry brushed away the bangs covering his scar.
"This is so cool!" Hannah breathed excitedly. "I can't believe we're sitting with the Harry Potter!"
"I don't think meeting me is that big of a deal," Harry edged, just a little bit annoyed. He knew people were going to get excited when they saw him, but that didn't make dealing with it anymore comfortable.
"Not a big deal?" Hannah gaped at him for all of two seconds. "Harry, you're like, a wizarding celebrity! Everyone and their mother knows you. Not to mention you defeated You-Know-Who..." she trailed off when she saw the look on Harry's face.
"And all it cost me was my parents," he told her, his lips forming a thin line. He didn't look quite angered, but he was clearly agitated. And why wouldn't he be? So many people seemed to forget that his parents had sacrificed their lives for him that night Voldemort was defeated. Maybe he wouldn't have been so bothered by his celebrity status if his parents had survived, or if people actually took the time to think about how he might feel, but from what he had seen so far that wasn't going to happen.
"Sorry," Hannah mumbled lowly, his words seemingly sucking out all of her previous enthusiasm about meeting a celebrity.
"It's fine," Harry said. He knew he was being too hard on her—just as he'd been too hard on Ron. After all, who wouldn't be curious about him? It was just as Hannah said, he was a celebrity in their world. To top it off, the people on this train were children, tact and understanding weren't exactly concepts they were familiar with.
With a small sigh, he decided that the pair deserved an apology and explanation so they knew he wasn't actually angry at them.
"I apologize for snapping at you. The boy whose compartment I just left asked me if I remembered the night my parents died when he found out who I was." Both of the girl's gasps told him all he needed to know, and he offered them a small smile. He didn't quite manage it, his face making more of a grimace than anything, but it seemed to do the trick of putting the two at ease. "I didn't mean to take my anger at him out on you two."
"No, no, it's alright," Hannah said, shaking her head back and forth, her blond pig tails swaying behind her. "I can see why you were angry at me. I didn't mean to remind you of your parents death or anything. I was just so excited to meet you."
"I understand." Harry resisted the sigh wanting to pass his lips. "It seems everyone in the wizarding world is excited to meet me." Wanting to change the subject to something less personal, Harry switched topics. "So why don't you two tell me about yourselves?"
The conversation became much less strained after that. Harry learned quite a bit about the two girls he found himself sitting with. Both had apparently been friends for a long time; the Abbots were a minor pureblood family that were decently wealthy due to the wine vineyards they owned on the mainland, namely France and Italy, and had been allied with the Bones family for the last century.
Susan, he had learned, was indeed related to Amelia Bones, as he had first suspected. In fact, she was the woman's niece, and due to the fact that she and her aunt were the only members of the Bones family remaining, was also the heiress of the family. Harry knew right then that befriending them would prove advantageous for him in the future, if for no other reason than that.
He also learned much about the two as people. Hannah, for example, was very talkative and even more confident. She didn't have much trouble stating her opinions and wasn't shy about speaking her mind. Her friend Susan, on the other hand, was much more shy and soft spoken. She tended to let her friend do the talking, and the few times she did speak it was with a light tinge of pink dusting her cheeks. Harry also noticed that the redhead couldn't seem to keep eye contact with him for more than five seconds, before averting them and her face would flush a deeper shade of red.
He wasn't quite sure what to make of that, but put it out of his mind for the moment.
More than what he had learned about the two with him, Harry was surprised to discover how easy talking with them was. While the conversation hadn't taken all of his attention away from his thoughts of Lisa, they had proven to not only be an able distraction, but the two girls were also quite pleasant to converse with.
A part of him chalked it up to them being girls. Since Lisa was not only his best, but also his only friend at the moment, and had been for over three years, Harry found it easier talking to the opposite gender. Another reason he felt his mind was so at ease among the two was because they were witches. He didn't have to pretend to be normal in front of them, and that simply made acting more natural easier.
"So wait," Hannah said as she chewed on a pumpkin patty Harry had bought for her from the trolly (he was a gentleman, after all). "You mean to tell me you didn't even know about the wizarding world until you got your Hogwarts letter?"
"No, I only knew the basics," Harry said as he looked over the card of Albus Dumbledore he had gotten from a chocolate frog. He watched the man with half-moon glasses, a long, crooked nose, and flowing silvery hair, beard and mustache disappear from inside of the picture frame, before turning his attention back to Hannah. "You see, my aunt, that is to say, my mum's sister, is a muggle, but because my mum was a witch she knew about magic. However, she only told me a little bit, so I didn't know very much about the wizarding world itself, just that it and magic existed."
"But what about all the stories?" asked Hannah, the expression on her face looking just as shocked as her voice sounded.
"You mean the stories about me fighting dragons and trolls, and adventuring through Africa while fighting against indigenous tribes and ferocious nundus?" asked Harry with a quirk of his left eyebrow. "They're all lies. I didn't even know dragons and trolls actually existed, I've never heard of a nundu before, and I've never even seen a banshee much less fought one. I didn't even know those books existed until I went shopping for my school books."
"But that's illegal!" Susan gasped in shock, right before she blushed when Hannah and Harry turned to look at her. Despite this, she managed to continue on with only a little bit of stuttering. "S-since you're the heir to the Potter family, it's illegal for them to use your name without your consent."
"I know," Harry said, giving her a thin smile.
"Do you... do you want me to contact my aunty?" asked Susan, her face getting redder the longer she spoke. "If I tell her about this I'm sure she can help deal with this matter..." she trailed off, her face turning nearly as red as her hair when Harry gave her the first genuine smile he'd had all day.
"Thank you," he told her sincerely. "But there's no need to worry..." he paused, wondering if he should continue, before figuring there wasn't much they could say that would give away what he was doing so long as he didn't let them know what he had planned. "I already have a plan put into motion that should solve this problem nicely, so there's no need to concern yourself over it, though I do appreciate the offer."
"You're welcome," Susan whispered softly, looking almost like she wanted to both shrink in her seat and bask in Harry's smile at the same time.
The good mood that had begun to permeate the compartment would have continued, but at that moment, the compartment door slid open and in walked three boys.
Harry knew from the moment he glanced at them that these three would likely be trouble. The one in front was the obvious leader; a boy with slicked back blond hair, blue eyes, and a narrow chin. He didn't look like much, and truth be told Harry was more worried about the two much larger boys standing on either side of him. The term guerillas seemed to fit them both well; they were large, easily towering over the blond boy, and probably around a half a head taller than Harry, and that said nothing about their girth. Both of them were wearing rather stupid expressions on their faces, which Harry took as them trying to look intimidating.
They reminded him of Dudley.
"Is it true?" The one in the middle asked. "They're all saying that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"
"Yes," said Harry, wondering who had informed this boy that he was in his compartment. It wasn't like he had told anyone. Then again, he hadn't made much of an effort to hide his scar, and a lot of people had been staring when he was walking down the hall.
"My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," the boy introduced himself. He then gestured behind him carelessly. "And this is Crabbe and Goyle."
"Ah, then you would be the heir to the Malfoy family, yes?" Harry asked, tilting his head with just a touch of inquisitiveness. He had heard a great deal about the Malfoy family from Andromeda. According to her, they were a family to watch out for and not ones to be crossed lightly.
"I see you've heard of me," Draco preened under the knowledge that Harry knew who he was.
"We've all heard of you, Malfoy," Hannah said with more than just a little disdain. "You're the son of a cockroach. Now why don't you bugger off!"
"And just who are you?" Draco asked with a sneer. "Some uppity little witch with no pedigree? You should learn to show respect in the presence of your betters!"
Hannah opened her mouth to retort, however, Susan gripped the girls arm. "Don't," the redhead hushed the girl softly. Hannah looked at her friend for a second, before sighing and deciding to heed Susan's advice.
Draco leered at the two girls, then turned his attention back to Harry. "You'll find that some wizard families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
As Draco Malfoy held out his hand, the raven-haired young man with the lightning bolt scar went over what had just happened in his mind and come to several conclusions.
The first was that this Draco was arrogant, a bully, and one of those people who held onto the belief that those of pure and noble blood were better than other witches and wizards out of principle. This was not unexpected, considering what Andromeda had told him about the boy's father, though the woman had hoped the son of her estranged sister would have been brought up better.
The second was that Draco Malfoy wanted his allegiance. For what purpose, Harry didn't know. Then again, just by being able to say he was friends with the boy-who-lived was enough of a reason to want an allegiance.
Harry's mind worked at light speeds as he tried to figure out what he should do to quell this situation before things went south. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite sure what to do. He did not want to form an alliance with Draco Malfoy, not only because of the boy's apparent disdain for people he believed were beneath his station, but also because forming an alliance with a family like the Malfoy's meant many other possible allegiances he could gain later in the future would become closed off to him.
"What do you mean there are some wizard families who are better than others?" asked Harry, adding just the right inflection of curiosity to make the question seem innocuous. It was a stalling tactic, he knew. Hopefully the blond boy wouldn't be keen enough to pick up on it.
Fortunately for Harry, Draco did not seem to realize this and began speaking with great enthusiasm. "Those families of pure blood who have power and know how to use it are, of course, better than some no name family with not a knut to their name. Naturally, my family is quite powerful; my father even has the ears of the Minister."
"You mean your father bought the ears of the Minister," Hannah replied snidely before Susan could stop her.
Watching Draco's face turn pink at the insult, Harry decided he needed to nip this in the bud before it came to blows. "You've given me much to think about," he told Draco in a very serious voice. "Perhaps some other time we can discuss this at greater length."
"Of course," Draco Malfoy replied, his pleasure at hearing that Harry was at least thinking about his offer seemed to make him forget about Hannah's comment. "I look forward to speaking with you more."
Draco and his two henchmen left. Harry turned to Hannah and said, "you really should be a little more careful with what you say. That situation could have easily devolved into violence if I hadn't appeased Draco in some way."
"Why should I have to be careful with my words around that jerk?" Hannah asked with, from what Harry had seen so far, uncharacteristic anger.
"Because if you don't, then that boy could easily make your life miserable," Harry answered calmly. "Trust me on this, I've seen his type before. Draco Malfoy is a bully and has a superiority complex the size of Asia. Not only that, but his father is a very powerful political figure in magical Britain, not to mention a Death Eater."
Death Eater was the term coined for those who had served under Voldemort. A group of witches and wizards who held onto the inherent belief that purebloods were better than other witches and wizards, and whose hatred of muggleborns and all things non-magical was well known. Before the war had ended, many non-magical families had lost their lives to Death Eater raids, and more than a few magical families became extinct because of them.
"Don't you mean former Death Eater?" asked Hannah, saying the word 'former' with enough sarcasm to fill the compartment.
"No." Harry shook his head. "I mean Death Eater. People don't just reform their ways so easily. From what I heard, Dacro's father got out of going to Azkaban without even getting a trial simply by claiming he was under the Imperius Curse and throwing some money at the Ministry. Anyone who does something like that to get off Scott free clearly hasn't reformed their ways."
"How do you know so much?" asked Susan, once more speaking before her mind caught up with her. She blushed a bit, but plowed on regardless. "I mean, you just told us that you've only been in the Wizarding World since you got your Hogwarts letter. It just seems... odd, that you would know so much about our world."
Hearing such a well-thought out question caused Harry's estimation of the girl to rise. Truth be told, while he had thought the girl to be a pleasant person during the first few minutes of their conversation, he had not really been able to form much of an opinion about her. Compared to the outgoing and talkative Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones had seemed a bit diffident. However, hearing her questioning his story in such a way, and giving supporting evidence to back it up, let Harry know that while the red-haired girl may be quiet and unassuming, she was also intelligent and had a sharp mind.
He gave the girl an honest smiled filled with more than a healthy dose of respect. The girl took one look at him and blushed to the roots of her hair.
"While I may have only been in the Wizarding World for a short while, that doesn't mean I've been idle," Harry informed them. "The moment I learned that I was the heir to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter, I determined that it would behoove me to learn as much about the current climate and most recent events of the last few decades. Considering most of those events involve me in some way, it was definitely a good idea."
He did not mention Andromeda, or that he had someone helping him learn everything he would need to know about politics, etiquette and the 'who's who' of the wizarding world. He didn't want the possibility of his dealings with the former Black getting out... yet.
"You mean you've been studying all this time?" Hannah sounded aghast that someone would spend their entire summer reading. "We haven't even started school yet!"
Harry's lips twitched in both amusement and slight depression. A strange combination. But then again, it wasn't everyday someone he just met said something so... Lisa, and he couldn't help but compare the two. Which explained why he felt both elated and saddened.
"Well," Harry drawled a bit. "I figured it was prudent to learn as much as I could about the current climate of magical Britain after I was mobbed by an entire restaurant of witches and wizards wanting to shake my hand in the Leaky Cauldron."
Both girls gasped.
"They didn't?" Hannah asked with a gaping mouth.
Harry just gave her a nod. "They did. At the time, I didn't even know that I was famous, so you can imagine my surprise. I figured that if I was going to be mobbed everywhere I go, then I should at least know why."
"I suppose I can understand why you would want to read then," Hannah said, before she scrunched up her nose. "Still, I don't think I could stand doing nothing but reading all summer long."
Harry gave her a mildly amused look, the kind he often gave to Lisa when she said something he thought was stupid. "Now why do you think all I did was read during the summer? I'll have you know I did a lot more than just sitting around reading books all day."
"Like what?"
"Well..." Harry licked his lips for a moment as he pondered what to tell her. "I did spend a lot of time practicing my martial arts..."
Here we have it, Harry's having some problems and blows up at Ron, and also means Hannah and Susan, as well as has a minor run in with Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. Next chapter will have the Sorting Ceremony.
Chao!
