The group's journey to Diagon ended on a slightly uneventful note, by the heros' standards, at least. After finally grilling McGonagall and Hagrid a little about why Harry was mobbed in the bar, saying Tempest and Fubuki were unimpressed with magic users was an understatement.

According to them, Harry had supposedly defeated this Voldemort (though they were adamant he be referred to as 'You-Know-Who' for some weird reason) when he was one year old after the guy had killed his parents, earning the scar in the process. Because of this, they all called him 'the Boy-who-Lived, the savior of the Wizarding World'.

All five of them thought this was total BS, though. If Harry was the only one to really survive it, how come so many are claiming to know what when down that night?

Once that was done, their last stop was to get a trunk for all his things. Tempest quickly nixed the idea of getting him one with a key-based lock, not putting it past possible fangirls, and boys, to try and pick it for a 'souvenir' at the school, citing first-hand experience. So, finding him one with a good combination lock in London was added to the 'to-do' list.

"Nine hundred ninety, one thousand pounds." Saitama 'hmm'ed' when he finished counting out the reward money for the robber he took down the other day. The days leading up to September 1st proved to be fairly uneventful. McGonagall and Hagrid assisted in getting them couple of rooms in the Leaky Cauldron before leaving the group to their own devices which, after finally finding the last pieces of Harry's school supplies, mostly just entailed checking out London and Diagon. "That's a lot in yen, right?"

"Just over a hundred and fifty thousand, Sensi." Genos replied, doing maintenance on his arms while he waited for the newly forged leadless pewter cauldron to cool. "Not a great amount, but it should last until Harry leaves for Hogwarts."

And...it pretty much did, given that, given Saitama's habitual frugality coupled with the fact that they were making their way through King's Cross Station only two weeks later.

"Ok...so to get on Platform-Nine-And-Three-Quarters - seriously, who names these places - anyway, McGonagall said there's a portal through the pillar between Nine and Ten." Harry looked around, the stares they were once again getting not even registering with him.

"Pretty much." Saitama replied. As they reached the point, he handed Harry his packed trunk "Ok, remember what we all told you?"

"Unless it's an emergency, always use the doors. Never start any fights, but always be the one to end them. If there's a monster around, make sure it's hostile before punching. And try to get my homework done as soon as possible so I don't have to worry about it." Harry rattled off a set of instructions before Fubuki swept him up in a hug.

"Be good, sweetie." She said, once again squishing his head in her cleavage. "Be sure to write as soon as you get there."

"I will, Aunt Fubuki." Harry's muffled reply was slightly obscured by Tempest's yell for her to stop doing that. Once she let him go, Genos handed him his trunk and Hedwig's cage. "Well, I'll see you guys next summer." With that, he did a quick check before darting to the pillar, his body vanishing into it on contact.

Saitama sighed, rubbing his bald noggin as Harry's braid trailed through the portal behind him. "That's so unfair."

"Ah, get a toupee." Tempest replied, hovering into the air a few feet. "Come on. We better get back to City Z. No sense hanging around now that he's left. Besides, it's gotten kind of boring without any kaiju to fight."

"Yeah, plus I need to check on my cactus."

"Fine…" Fubuki conceded, taking flight with her sister, startling almost everyone around them, with Genos and Saitama not far behind followed by a loud - and ignored - shriek of protest from a nearby redhead. "It's too cold for bikinis anyway. Phooey."

Amidst the cacophony of people, animals, and clattering luggage that greeted him, Harry could really only think of one thing. "We're going in that?" He asked no one in particular, staring at the gleaming red and gold steam engine. "Talk about going old school."

"Prek." Hedwig just gave the slightly gaudy color scheme a less than approving look. Honestly, it looked more like an overgrown toy than transportation

"Easy, Hed. You just need to go once. After that you can just fly there from then on." Harry said calmly as he made his way into the throng.

She barked in approval, once again looking at the color and letting out the owl version of a resigned sigh.

Aside from almost running into an older pair of twin carrottops that had come in shortly after him, the pair reached one of the cars without a hitch. Harry was about to get on when he heard frantic huffing and grunting nearby. A quick look around showed a girl with bushy brown hair trying, and failing massively, to heft her own trunk onboard.

"Hey." He said, stepping over. "Need a hand?"

"Please!" she responded, looking up towards him pleadingly. "A pair of older boys stole my trolly and-" her voice stopped dead when he lifted it up onto his other shoulder without a second thought, the owl there quickly repositioning itself on top of his head. "And...and...I…"

"Name's Harry. You starting this Hogwarts place too?"

She just nodded dazedly, watching him tote both his and her trunks like they were nothing. "H-Hermione...I...the…"

Luckily for her, she wasn't the only one. Quite a few others nearby, kid and parent alike, stopped nearly everything they were doing to stare.

"Bloody hell…!" a redheaded boy blurted out before an older one, who was probably his brother if having the same hair coloring was any indication, chided him for language.

"Come on." Harry said, making his way to the nearest entry on board.

"You...those...but…" Hermione's voice continued haltingly as she followed him in a slight daze while her brain continued its attempt to process what she'd just seen. The two went past a couple of already occupied coaches before reaching an empty one.

"You ok with sharing one or wanna find yourself a spot?"

"Share...share ok..." she said before things finally reconnected "Wait!" she pointed to the trunks as he slid them up onto the overhead racks, "Those trunks have to be at least fifty kilograms, and I certainly didn't see you cast a spell! But you lifted them like they were milk jugs! How are you even DOING that!?"

Harry just shrugged before sitting down. "I'm stronger than I look. The workout Uncle Saitama had me do helped."

"Workout?"

"Yeah." He ticked off each one "One hundred sit-ups, push-ups, squats, and a ten-kilometer run, every day."

"I-I'm sorry, I think I must have misheard you...did you say 'every'...?"

"Well, every day for about three years. Not counting the training Aunt Tempest gave me." Harry shrugged. "Granted, I was pretty sore the first eight or nine months, but it was more annoying than anything."

"Th-three years…you were doing...all that...non-stop. FOR THREE YEARS!?" She shrieked. "That-that's insane! There's no way your body could've handled that!"

"And I'm standing right here." He added, windmilling his arm around a little to prove the point.

"But...but HOW? The strain alone...why did they even do that to begin with!?"

"When that Dumble….fore? No, that's not it...Doublecore…? No…"

"D-Dumbledore?" She asked, slightly hesitantly as her eyes trailed up to his forehead.

"Yeah, that's him. He said some criminal named Volde...Volde…" He shook his head, "Volde-whatever his name is! He killed my mom and dad, and tried to kill me, but something backfired on him so he disappeared."

Hermionie's eyes widened when it landed on a lightning bolt-shaped scar above his right eye. "You...you…"

"Yeah, dunno why me, but he said the guy might come back to try and finish the job, so Uncle Saitama wanted me to be able to hit back."

"No...you...you're Harry Potter." Hermione's expression quickly shifted from confused shock to acting like she had just ran into a celebrity.

"Hold up!" He said, seeing her look like she was gonna fangirl, "If you're going to start acting like those weirdos in the Leaky Cauldron, I'm outta here."

"Wha?" that brought her up short. "What do you mean?"

"Ok, look. When we got into that bar to get to Diagon, I was swarmed by everyone there. All of them were wanting to praise or thank me for something that happened more than a decade ago! Something I don't even remember!"

"But you defeated…"

"It doesn't matter if I beat Attila the Hun! Hermione, it's one thing for someone to say thanks or even offer to buy you lunch for something you did a few minutes ago...a week at most. Going on about it for ten years? That's obsession...and creepy! Hell, for all I know, Vold-whatever ran out of steam fighting my parents and had to run before he could get me."

"But what about your scar?" She spoke up, trying to bring something to the table. "All the books about you tell how you survived the Killing Curse that he tried to use on you! You're the only one who's ever done that!" She'd read nearly every book that talked about how the boy in front of her defeated the dark wizard everyone calls You-Know-Who. They were all presented as factual accounts, and deep down, she was desperate to confirm that was true.

"Not unless somebody else was there who saw everything. I don't know anything about kill curses or whatever, but I was only One back then. And this guy was supposed to have a lot of people scared of him." his tone and expression were more than enough to show how dumb he thought that sounded. "He probably threw something at me before getting out of there."

Hermione wanted to protest at what she felt was aspirations on knowledge, but when she considered it, the whole thing did sound ridiculous. Plus, some of those books also claimed Harry faced off against him in a titanic battle, retaliating with powerful spells of his own. Along with a few other outlandish deeds.

Before she could say anything else, the coach door opened and a slightly lanky redhead looked in. "Um, is it ok if I sit in here?" he asked. "Everywhere else seems packed."

"Ok with me." Harry replied. Hermione simply scooted over to let him sit. A quick introduction showed his name to be Ron Weasley.

"Wait…" Ron's eyes widened when he looked at Harry. "You...you're the bloke that picked up her trunk like it was nothing! You didn't wave your wand for a spell or anything!"

"He...he's stronger than he looks." Hermione said, "I'm still accepting that he actually did it."

If Ron heard her, he didn't say anything, since he'd shifted to staring at Harry's forehead, "B-bloody hell….bloody hell, you're Harry Potter!"

"Not this again…" Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes as he noticed the boy was leaning in towards his head, mumbling something about 'that's the scar'. "Ok….Ron, was it?"

"Yeah?" he blinked, stopping when he heard his name.

"You do realize that this scar's over ten years old, right?"

"Yeah, right famous one, that is!"

He then fought the desire to facepalm. "You also realize that I got this from the same guy who killed my mom and dad, right?"

"Yeah...oh." Ron stared for a couple seconds more before blanching when he realized what Harry was talking about. "Ohh...uh, s-sorry about that, mate…" He quickly pulled back, looking a little ill. The three sat in mild silence as the train finally exited the station. After a while, he finally spoke back up, "So...either one of you know any spells yet?" He pulled a scraggly-looking rat out of his pocket. "My brothers showed me one they said would change Scabbers, my rat's color."

"That should be interesting." Hermione piped up, looking eager that idea."

"Ok..um…" he took out his wand, or at least it looked like one; the thing was worn and dull from use, and something could be seen poking out from the top. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!"

Nothing happened. The rat just squeaked and sniffed around.

"No offense, Ron, but I think you've been had." Harry gave the rat a less than favorable look. For some reason, he really, REALLY wanted to punt it.

"Yeah, that's not a-" Hermione started before Ron cut her off.

"A real spell. Yeah, I bloody should've figured as much." He stuffed the wand away in annoyance. "My git brothers, Fred and George, love using me as a test subject for their sense of humor. Bad enough everything I got is all hand-me-downs."

"Hand-me-downs aren't that bad most of the time. A lot of my clothes are old ones Uncle Saitama used to wear when he was younger, mostly to save a few yen. Though I still don't know why Aunt Tempest got riled up over that one t-shirt...they still won't tell me what 'oppai' even means."

"Yeah, but that's just you. Try having to use stuff from five older brothers. My books are almost family heirlooms by now. My wand used to be my brother, Charlie's. Scabbers was Percy's. All my clothes used to theirs, Bill, Fred and George's." He snorted. "My sister Ginny's really the only one who's gotten anything new."

Harry, meanwhile, was ticking off the names. "Seven kids!?" He looked at Ron incredulously. "How'd your folks even manage that? Uncle Saitama almost broke the bank just raising me!"

He just shrugged. "Wondered that about as often as I wished my parents made a little more money."

"Um, not to interrupt the conversation, but…" Hermione pointed towards the door, where a roundfaced and worried looking boy was standing.

"You lot haven't seen a toad by chance?" The sandy-haired boy beside him asked. "Neville here's lost his."

"A toad?" they gave the seats and floor a once-over on the off chance one did get in. "Sorry, no toad here." Harry said. "Here." He looked to the snowy owl currently perched on the back of the seat. "Hed, think you can scout them out a toad somewhere on this train?"

Hedwig let out an affirmative bark and fluttered over to Neville's shoulder. "You...you really think your owl can help us?" he yelped when she gave him a sharp rap on the head with her wing.

"Yeeaahh...she doesn't really like people doubting her like that." Harry said before mentally adding, 'Aunt Tempest found that out fast'

"She's help at least." the other boy shrugged. "Cheers, mate. C'mon, Nev."

As the two boys, and Hedwig, left, Hermione decided a change of subject was in order. "So, which house do you think you'll be in?"

"Gryffindor. No contest." Ron said without a second thought. "Every Weasley has been there."

Harry glanced over at her. "Houses? You mean like clubs or something?"

"Hogwarts uses a house system, Harry." Hermione replied. "Each one is named after the school's four founders: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They have some method of assigning students to each house, but I have no idea what it is."

"Just hope you don't get sent to Slytherin." Ron said the name like he'd just eaten a cockroach. "A lot of dark wizards come from that one."

"Honestly, Ron." Hermione chided him. "Their main trait is ambition and cunning. That does not automatically make someone 'dark'."

"Still a lot of dark wizards from it. Nearly all You-Know-Who's Supporters came from there!" he crossed his arms defiantly. "And from what I've heard from my brothers, even some of the ones who weren't were still mankey gits."

"You do know Merlin was in that house as well, right?"

Ron paused for a moment. "Doesn't meant he couldn't have been a git while he was there."

She tried to come up with a worthwhile rebuttal when the sound of approaching wheels caught their attention. A cart laden with candy and various chocolates rolled up. "Something from the cart, dearies?" the lady manning it asked.

"My parents don't really care much for me eating sugar." Hermione said.

Ron pulled out a bag with a thick corned beef sandwich in it. "I...I'm good."

Harry looked at the stuff on the cart, and it seemed like fairly standard stuff. "Ah, why not." He pulled out a handful of the gold coins he'd had left over from getting his school supplies. "What all can this get us?"

A few minutes later, and the seats were covered with empty wrappers and various snacks. Ron was halfway through the second of something called a pumpkin pastie. "C'mon, Hermione. One chocolate frog won't hurt you."

"Does it have to be moving?"

Harry, on the other had was realizing Berti Botts Every Flavor Beans meant 'EVERY' flavor. 'Whoever thought this was a good idea sucks at making candy.' Grass, hot mustard, pistachio, trout, and eggplant were not meant to be in jellybeans... much less eaten all at once.

"EW! Harry!" Hermione shrieked in revulsion at the sight of him horking the nasty wad out the window. "That's disgusting!"

"Good distance, though." Ron added.

Unfortunately, as if that was the cue in some bizarre play, the door once again opened, rather rudely this time. Harry groaned when he saw who was standing there, this time flanked by two heavyset boys.

"So, it's true." The blonde sneered as he eyed Harry's scar. "Harry Potter is coming to Hog-you!" he blurted when he realized who it was.

"Not you again."

"You know this guy, Harry?" Ron asked, jerking a thumb towards him.

"Ran into at the robe shop. Serious case of 'blahblahblah' syndrome."

"My name is Draco Malfoy. And you'd do well to listen to what I say, Potter." he sneered at Ron and Hermione. "Especially since it's clear you need instruction on the right sort to associate with. Really, consorting a Wea-*" He stopped when Harry's hand suddenly appeared in his face, along with a gust of wind that blew the hair of all three boys back.

"Ok, gonna stop ya right there, since I'm still just hearing 'yak-yak-yak' outta you. I'll hear what you have to say, as long as you keep it to twenty words or less."

"Twenty…? H-how dare you talk to me like that, Potter!? You're nothing but a peasant compared to me! When my father hears about this….!"

"And that's more than twenty. Good-bye"

'Thoink!'

The two boys looked in surprise as Potter reached up and calmly flicked Draco on the nose.

'Thud!'

Which sent him into the wall behind them. The duo looked at Harry, then to the now knocked-silly Malfoy, and sighed ruefully. With an apologetic look towards the coach's occupants, they hoisted the boy up and carted him off down the hall.

Harry just shrugged and closed the door. Turning back, however, he was treated to both Ron and Hermione staring at him. "What?"

Ron's jaw hung open, looking flat out gobsmacked.

"H-Harry…" Hermione managed to squeak out. "If...if you're trying to convince us you aren't Superman, or some variant thereof...you're not doing a really good job."

"Eh, I'm more into stuff like Green Lantern and YuYu Hakusho myself."

Ron just continued to stare

Meanwhile, farther down the car:

"Gregory?"

"Yeah, Vincent?"

"We're gonna be doing this a lot, aren't we?"

"It looks that way, Vincent. Sadly…"

"Aw, bollocks..."

"My sentiments exactly, Vincent."