Chapter 6, Part Two: The Boys Who Lived
"The Longbottoms!"
"Lacius! It's Lacius Longbottom"
"Do you see his scar?"
Harry didn't see the scar, he wasn't interested in it. Lacius Longbottom was taller than his brother and had a thin face, much more like his father. The eyes almost seemed sky-blue and he'd inherited those from the elder, elegant lady who stood behind the males.
Worriedly, he observed the boy (who'd once saved his life) in front of him. He couldn't imagine how terrible it was to be in the spotlight like that.
It had to be horrible.
He knew that one pair of eyes didn't change anything, but he wouldn't stare. Instead, he looked back at Neville who stood a bit apart from his parents, brother and most likely his grandmother. He was still watching the ground. Harry managed to catch his gaze and smiled softly. Then, he crouched to the ground and started gathering his things.
The Boy Who Lived took a step ahead ignoring the stares and walked towards the Hogwarts train. He didn't bump into Harry, but he walked carelessly across the orphan's few good clothes he possessed. The man and older lady followed him and so did the crowd's gaze.
Nobody seemed to have noticed the Boy Who Lived's rather rude behaviour.
Except for two people: his mother and his brother.
Their reactions varied. While Mrs Longbottom looked as if she wanted to reprimand him for it, but decided not to do it, Neville crouched down beside him and helped him picking up his things.
"Thanks," Harry said with a smile.
"Sorry for my brother's behaviour. He's…" He shrugged his shoulders and continued picking things up.
All of a sudden, while they were filling the bit of cloth that was left of his torn bag, Neville let everything drop.
"Trevor!"
Harry looked around expecting a friend nearby, but didn't see anyone. Everybody was fully focused on the four people walking across the platform without noticing that Neville wasn't with them.
If there was one thing Harry couldn't stand it was abandonment. He had been inclined to console friends, who simply wouldn't understand why their parents hadn't bothered to take care of them, too many times. His eyes blazed with fury.
That was until he saw utter distress on the face of his new acquaintance, "My toad. I… Where is he? He's always running away." While he spoke, Harry felt sudden heat arise next to him and therefore wasn't at all surprised when a female house-elf appeared at their side.
House-elves were particularly easy to feel. Their magic was universal. More than any other magical being he'd met so far (which included goblins, wizards, witches and bowtruckles), their magic affected their surroundings.
According to Kertak, those of Elven origin possessed magic that was related to the four elements of nature: water, earth, fire and air. That was the reason why they had a way of touching their environment when using magic. Harry, who was particularly attuned to feeling fire, therefore had no problems at detecting them.
"Kali," Neville squealed happily and panicked at the same time, but grew quiet immediately, when he saw the toad in the small elf's hands. It immediately jumped into his, "There you are, Trevor! Thank you so much, Kali." His voice held a mixture of admiration and gratitude.
Harry immediately knew that he would like this child. He turned towards the elf and said, "Kali-maco" Thereby speaking one of the few Elvish words he knew: 'greetings.'
Kali looked up at him wide-eyed, "You is speaking Elven tongue? But you has misunderstood. Maco is only said when house-elf is meeting another, sir. Wizards demeans himself speaking 'maco.'"
"I don't think I do. It is as you said. You say maco to those who are your equal. And I'm yours. My name is Harry, salà." Why did he always fall back into Gobbledegock when talking to magical beings that weren't human? He simply couldn't tell.
"salà? You is not comparing me to goblin lady, sir, insulting the ladies, you is."
"I don't think so," he replied firmly, but he smiled. He could feel Neville gape at him. Was he being impolite? He sometimes forgot that the Others were less habitual with bluntness than he was used to.
"You speak Elven language," Neville stated, completely astonished, "Kali never taught me that."
"Actually…" He grew quiet again when he saw the Boy Who Lived and Mr Longbottom arrive out of the corner of his eyes.
"Merlin, Neville!" the taller boy hissed. His voice was hushed as if he didn't want this conversation to become public, "Could you please not embarrass me, just this once? Kali, what are you doing here?"
"Kali is sorry, Master Lacius, but Kali had…"
"Just go," he ordered, his blue eyes displayed arrogance and annoyance. With a sad look at Neville, Kali disappeared the same way she'd arrived.
It pained Harry to know that he wouldn't be able to do as Professor Dumbledore had asked him to.
He couldn't stand the kid. A fact, he knew, would get him into trouble.
His eyebrows rose, but he did not smile. A bad sign to all those who knew him.
His facial expression caught Lacius' attention for the first time. Sky-blue met emerald green.
"My name is Lacius Longbottom," he said importantly, his chin lifted slightly and with a short movement of his hand, the lightening scar on his forehead was in plain sight, "What's yours?"
Harry managed to suppress a snort, "Guess, you'll find that out very soon." There was a lot of power in a name. He'd lived without his last name his entire life. There was no way he'd give it away willingly to the boy in front of him.
"Sir," he said politely bowing in goblin manner to Mr Longbottom merely wishing a good day for the adult wizard had done nothing to prevent his son from doing the things he did and without caring what happened to the other.
He gave Neville another smile and before grabbing the rest of his luggage, he took his torn bag in a way its content was secured. He would repair it on the train.
Unfortunately, it hindered his movements and he might have not been able to mount the train, hadn't a red-haired boy asked whether he wanted some help.
"Yes, please," he said with a smile.
"Oy, Fred," the boy called, "C'mere and help." For a moment, he believed to see doubled for a twin arrived.
Together they got Harry's things into the train, causing the younger boy to thank them heartedly.
"No problem," the red-haired boy named Fred smiled, "First year at Hogwarts?"
He nodded in return. There was a mischievous air about the way they observed him, but they weren't malicious.
"I'm Fred Weasley," the boy that was not Fred said, "This is George, my sorry excuse of a brother."
Harry only laughed, "I'd say it's the other way around, George, but it's nice to know your name. My name's Harry, Harry Potter."
They gawped at him in utter astonishment, then, simultaneously, they laughed, clearly amused, "Wow! You've got good eyes. How did you know that?"
"You," he said, directed at George, "Called him earlier."
"Yes, but then we changed positions about seven times. How did you keep track of that?"
That was a rather strange question. Yes, they looked alike, but George's voice was slightly higher and Fred moved a bit more steadily on his feet than George. All you had to do was observe.
"Fred? George? Are you there?" A female voice came floating in through the train's open door.
"Coming, Mum," they chorused, "It was nice meeting you, Harry," Fred added. A moment later, they hopped off the train. Shaking his head a little, he sought an empty compartment and slid it open as soon as he found it. Carefully, he stocked his things, extracted One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and a bit of thread including a needle.
He started repairing his ragged bag. He might be able to seal it, but it wouldn't look very professional.
It didn't matter. It had to hold together, that was all.
Suddenly, he felt the train leave and stopped a moment to look outside. Parents and younger siblings were standing by the platform waving goodbye. He thought of Char and smiled. He knew that Kertak and Char both would be sitting somewhere watching the clock turn eleven.
Before he could dwell on the thought, his compartment slid open and Neville entered. He stopped dead, when he saw him. Apparently, he'd thought that the compartment was empty.
His brother wasn't with him, but that didn't surprise Harry. Lacius surely hadn't sounded as if he were George Weasley's Fred or the other way around. Lacius and Neville might be twin brothers, but they neither looked the same nor were their characters alike.
Harry knew without doubt whom he liked better.
"Hello! Nice to see you again," he spoke calmly and avoided any kind of rash movement. He knew shy kids well enough to know that he would be spooked otherwise, but that was the last thing he wanted.
"'lo," the boy whispered, looking to the ground.
"Come, sit down, please." Neville did as he was told and settled by the window facing Harry. When their eyes met again, that inexplicable feeling of knowing each other came back.
Of course, he'd met him.
Apparently, the Longbottoms had been friends with the Potters and both of them had been there that night his parents were murdered (it would also explain Mrs Longbottom's reaction), but he'd been one year old. He couldn't elucidate how it was possible to remember that.
"Do I know you?" It seemed as if Neville was wondering the same.
Harry freely gave him his name (causing a startled reaction from the timid boy) and told him that they'd met as toddlers and they'd been in the same room the night Voldemort had entered Godric's Hollow.
"…When Lacius saved us all," Neville whispered. His voice was soft and insecure, the brown eyes subdued, "Mum and Father told us that there'd been another child in the room, but they'd never gotten into detail. I think it pains them… Your parents were good friends of them."
"That explains it," Harry stated, though it didn't really explain much. The story behind the Longbottoms seemed to be longer and darker than they'd earlier shown in public.
"What happened to you? After, I mean," it was a personal topic, but since Neville finally took heart and asked a question of his own, Harry couldn't bring himself to point out just how personal the question was.
"I lived with my aunt first, but she died in an accident. I was brought to an orphanage shortly after." He did his best not to sound too indifferent without breaking in the process. As he feared, the timid boy's eyes widened.
"I'm sorry, I didn't…"
"Don't apologize unless it's your fault," Harry spoke a sentence he'd said a hundred times in the course of his life.
"But it was rude," much more vehemently than any other word he'd spoken so far, "Sorry," he said, this time apologizing for he'd noticed the short boy's surprised reaction.
"Don't be," Harry smiled, "It's good to stand up for what we believe." For the first time, Neville smiled back. He couldn't explain it. Being near Harry was… safe.
The compartment slid open and a dark-haired, for his age rather lean, kid entered. Harry guessed him their age.
Not unlike Neville, he stopped at the entrance. His eye-colour was hard to describe, somewhat green-brown with a peck of blue. The pair looked into emerald and Harry knew that this kid had seen someone die, someone he cared about. This kind of expression you only wore when you'd lost someone.
Apart from that, there was bright and uncontained intelligence blazing in the depth of those eyes.
Recognition dawned the stranger as well.
"We don't bite," Harry stated with a smirk tilting his head a little, "Come on, join us. There is enough space for everybody."
"I'd rather be alone," the child's voice cracked a little as if talking wasn't his favourite activity.
"We won't bother you, then," Harry immediately accepted, but moved a bit to the side to invite him. He focused back on Neville and asked him whether he had any older siblings that had gone to Hogwarts, which was negated instantly.
"When have you heard of your magical inheritance, then?" The timid boy suddenly bloomed at the idea of having met someone that displayed the basic courtesy of noticing him.
"I kind of stumbled upon Diagon Alley when I was around six. There, I made acquaintance with someone who's one of my best friends, these days," he disliked being forced to describe the relationship he had to Kertak. He was his brother, but saying that always demanded clarification, "But I didn't think I was magical enough, despite what he kept telling me. So, it was last month, when I learnt for sure. When the letter arrived."
"What's it like living among Muggles?" Harry noticed out of the corners of his eyes that the stranger approached them and sat down beside him. He extracted a book, Magical Theory, and started to read, or at least, he pretended to for he was listening with half and ear.
"That's a hard question to answer. I've seen great people and I've met horrible people. Since I live at a wonderful place these days with twenty other kids and two excellent caretakers, I can tell that they, at least, are good people."
Again, it was inadequate, but he hoped that his facial expression showed just how 'good' they were.
"My name's Theodore Nott," the stranger spoke all of a sudden. His eyes were fixed on the orphan, only occasionally they slid over to Neville. He extracted his hand and Harry took it.
He'd have to get used to that custom. Oh, he touched people he didn't know, but the shaking of hands wasn't something he did often.
"Harry Potter." Curtly, Theodore nodded, let go off his hand and offered his own to Neville who took it, suddenly feeling a bit timid again.
"Neville Longbottom." Eyebrows rose and Harry could swear he'd heard Neville sigh a little, "He's my brother."
That had to be hard. Well, at least he was at Hogwarts now. Neville would find friends that weren't at all interested in his famous brother. Theodore seemed to have noticed the exasperation for his eyebrows fell and he took a good look at the timid boy in front of him. Harry was glad to see that he softened a little.
All of a sudden, the tallest boy of the group retreated and said he'd continue reading.
"We won't stop you," Harry commented good-humouredly. Theodore Nott seemed like the type whom you could sit close to for hours without speaking a single word.
Good company.
Neville asked him (looking rather worried) how much he'd studied. He was able to calm him by saying that he'd hardly found time. While Neville told him that he'd been studying quite a bit ever since the letter had arrived, Harry noticed that Theodore kept reading the same page for nearly ten minutes before he put it away. He didn't join their conversation actively, but he listened to them more openly now.
Again the compartment opened and two other figures entered. It was a boy and a girl. Latter looked large and square with a heavy jaw, but her eyes glimmered with amusement when she looked at her company causing Harry to smile. The boy's skin was dark, he had dark-brown eyes and he contrasted the girl with his rather refined features. Given a few years time and he'd become a rather handsome young man. When they looked at them, both looked surprised.
"Sorry, we'll just go look for another place," the boy said, but before Harry could say anything, Neville chimed in.
"No, it's fine. We'll manage. Come in." What followed was a rather crowded compartment, but somehow they managed to squeeze in and store the entire luggage. Harry immediately felt at home. They introduced themselves and so they got acquainted with Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bulstrode.
"Are you brother and sister?" Harry asked, causing the entire apartment to look at him, "I mean… Sorry, did you grow up together?"
"Yes, we did, next to each other, really," Blaise explained. Millicent seemed to be a lot more timid, "Mill's mum's my aunt, my father's twin, really. But you're right, we're closer than most cousins are."
Harry smiled and they exchanged brief information. An hour later, all of them knew he was an orphan, but somehow he didn't mind. Especially since Theodore had started opening up a little bit, though he still didn't talk much.
Theo (he'd shortened the name out of habit, but fortunately, he hadn't minded) seemed to understand him best (He lived with his father, but hadn't said a word about the mother. With a bang, Harry had realized whom he'd watched dying. He hadn't said anything, though, and he wouldn't pry, either).
It wasn't as dreadful as he'd thought it would be talking to the Others. They were children, not unlike his friends at St Mary's were.
They were just talking about their first bursts of magic, when the compartment door opened a forth time.
Harry was about to ask whether there was a shield outside saying 'Come in. Infinite space available!', when he saw that the bushy-haired girl (who already wore her Hogwarts attire) was crying. Before anybody was able to ask what was wrong, he was at her side.
"Hush," he murmured quietly laying his arm around her shoulder, "It's okay. Hush." Warmth spread and she relaxed a little.
"What's up?" Blaise asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.
Slowly the sobs subsided and she explained, "Lacius Longbottom," Neville flinched, "I said that I knew who he was and he'd just smirked saying that the entire world knew who he was. I said that I knew what books he was in and he quoted them all. Then, he slammed the compartment door in my face. A blond boy, who sat in his compartment, murmured 'Muggleborn.' I know it doesn't mean anything, but they'd sounded so condescending…" Another sob and she hid her face in Harry's shoulder.
He was furious. Lacius Longbottom had just managed to aggravate him three times within very few hours. Given how patient he was, that was a feat not many managed.
Those who did, well… He definitely wouldn't be able to verify the headmaster's hopes.
"Come in," he said, but when he turned around it was clear that one of them wouldn't be able to sit. There wasn't enough space.
"Maybe I shouldn't," the unknown girl said, but Millicent interrupted her saying that they'd find a way. Harry inspected the compartment. The seats couldn't be tilted back unless they loosed some of the screws.
"Step back." All of them did as they were told. He grabbed into his bag and extracted an old pocket-knife. Quickly and without making a sound, Harry loosened the screws, enabling him to tilt back the seats. So they wouldn't be falling back down, he secured them by fixing it to pipe-like constructions at the wall with the thread he'd earlier used to repair his bag.
All looked at him in astonishment.
"Sit down," he said with a smile and carefully tucked the unfamiliar girl's arm leading her to the ground, "Imagine it as a picnic." Theo was the last who sat down, but not out of dislike more out of shier bewilderment.
"I apologize for Lacius," Neville murmured, not looking at the girl. She seemed rather confused which was why he explained, "He's my brother."
Angrily, she stared at him and Harry was afraid she'd say something scathing to Neville who hadn't done anything. He wanted to interfere, when she took a shuddering breath and said firmly, "Don't apologize for something you didn't do. Your brother was being mean, yes, but that's not your fault."
Harry smiled appreciatively. Now that she slowly stopped being upset, her teary eyes revealed a rather sharp mind.
"Harry Potter," he said and thereby caused yet another introduction. The bushy-haired girl was called Hermione Granger, she was (as that blond-haired boy had noticed) a Muggleborn, but it took less than ten minutes to know that this girl knew more than most whose parents were magical.
"There is so much to learn," once Hermione had lost her shyness, she spoke so fast it took Harry's full concentration to keep up, "Do you know what house you'll be in? Well, we don't know, of course. Personally, I hope for Gryffindor, it is said Professor Dumbledore himself had been there, but Ravenclaw wouldn't be bad either." When she'd said Gryffindor he noticed that Millicent, Theo and Blaise tensed up a bit and before anything could be said, he asked.
"Does it matter? Would it matter to you personally for our friendship, or oncoming friendship for I don't have the arrogance to state we know each other well enough to be friends. Does it matter what houses we enter?"
Surprised, she looked at him, "No, of course not. Why would it?" Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw three of the four others relax.
"Slytherin," Millicent stated clearly. She noticed Neville's eyes widen and said, "It's got a bad reputation, but cunning is a good character treat to have. To think before you act. My entire family was there." Blaise confirmed and added, "We don't name him, either, Neville. He Who Must Not Be Named might have been a Slytherin, but he is not accepted by our folks, not even close."
Harry looked up in surprise, "Voldemort was at Hogwarts?" The entire compartment flinched heavily. It was as if saying 'Sullivan' around those who'd been to Hell.
And they said that non-magical and magical folk were different…
"Don't speak his name," Theo said speaking for the first time since he'd mentioned that he lived at home with his father (He definitely wasn't a very chatty person). His eyes widened in shier fear, "Don't."
"I didn't mean to scare you," Harry replied, "But he killed my parents. He's the last person in the world who has the right to control me that way. By not saying his name, I give him a weapon, in his book, I show respect. That is the last thing he earned."
Utter silence followed that statement. Theo looked at him for a long time before he nodded, "What house do you want to be in?" Obviously, he had to think of the matter before he spoke of it again. The change of topic was accepted rather freely.
"I don't know." Harry thought it sounded better than 'There is still a chance they say that there must have been made a mistake and he wouldn't fit into any house.'
Since none of them had older siblings, they didn't know much about the classes that would follow, though Neville, Blaise and Millicent knew for example the names of the teachers. Apparently, the Head of the Slytherin House was called Professor Snape and he was also the Potions professor, while Professor McGonagall, the deputy headmistress, was the Transfiguration teacher and Head of the Gryffindor House. They continued exchanging the knowledge they'd acquired concerning Hogwarts (Hermione had read and seemingly learned by heart a book that was called Hogwarts, a History and she knew quite a lot about the castle). Blaise once exclaimed that she was, without doubt, one of the best-informed and smartest witches who'd ever entered the castle.
She blushed at that statement.
A smiling, dimpled lady opened the compartment and wanted to say something when she looked at the seats.
"What, in Merlin's name, have you been doing?" she asked sternly, her arms rested on her hips. Harry immediately got up and showed her the screws in his hands.
"Nothing that cannot be repaired. We've just met and wanted to spend the journey together, but we lacked in space. I'll be fixing it as soon as we arrive," he assured her. The witch examined him for a moment and then asked whether they wanted something off the trolley. Harry looked at the sweets. The last time he'd eaten chocolate was three months ago, when Johnny had turned ten years old. Sister Margret had baked a gigantic cake for all of them. He did wonder what the sweets tasted like, but chose against it for he wasn't quite sure how many expenses would come up in the course of the year.
He'd eaten at five, which would be enough for the rest of the day. He'd endured worse.
Blaise and Millicent didn't seem to think so for they bought enough food for all of them. The Chocolate Frogs were fun, but he was much more interested in the cards than the chocolate.
Morgana, Merlin, Circe and Paracelsus. It was interesting to read what they'd done according to the magical world.
These cards said that Morgana was great and strong sorceress that had helped King Arthur but had fallen into disgrace when the church had proclaimed all magic to be work of the devil.
Paracelsus had been a great Potions Master and healer. To acquire the Medal of Paracelsus was the biggest honour a brewer was able to receive. There was still a hidden institute in Salzburg (the Austrian city where he'd died) that offered education to acquire Mastership in Potions.
"You should put on your cloaks," Hermione said who'd left the compartment a few minutes earlier, "We'll be arriving very soon."
Harry and Neville, who were the only ones that still wore their normal attire, complied and grabbed their cloaks. When he felt the additional piece of clothing around him, he suddenly got nervous again.
He had no idea what the future was going to bring. He'd found new friends whose characters varied about as much as they had at St Mary's… He'd officially entered the magical world when he'd mounted that train.
What would Hogwarts be like? He hoped the castle would welcome an unimportant orphan with the same warmth it seemed to have welcomed a gigantic man with the name Hagrid and a powerful but kind wizard such as Professor Dumbledore.
'Hogwarts, please offer me a home, not mere shelter!'
Not too many miles away, a thousand year old building glowed, happily awaiting her children.
A/N: I'm sitting at my computer with a fever and a cough, so I'm sorry if my author's note sounds a little strange. Since English isn't my first language you might understand why.
Thank you very much for the reviews! Thanks to MissGoalie75 for correcting this chapter so quickly.
For those who like reading but not writing in English, here's this: My first language is German, so you could write your opinion in German or Swiss German (ausser, wenn ihr aus dem Wallis seid, dann tut es mir leid ;-) ) My Italian isn't great, but basic vocabulary I do understand.
Reviews will help me recover a lot faster ;-) So, please, send me reviews!
Finally, next chapter they'll be arriving at Hogwarts...
Next Chapter: The Sorting Hat