A/N – Standard disclaimer – All recognisable HP characters are JK Rowling's. I'm just glad we get to play with her world.

Chapter 2 – Little Lost Sometimes

Harry shook his head as if to clear it. He must have spaced out for a second he thought. He remembered getting up in the morning and spending the time listening to Vernon Dursley complain about having to take "that fucking freak anywhere, never mind to fucking London" before declaring to Harry that "I wouldn't fucking piss on you if you were on fire you little freak, but seeing as we are getting rid of you for months, it will be worth it."

Astoundingly, today was a fairly easy day in terms of the verbal abuse that Harry had to endure as a routine. The Dursley's made no secret of their dislike for the young boy. Until his Hogwarts letter arrived, his bedroom, if it could be even called such a thing, was a cupboard under the stairs. Harry was almost skeletally thin, being fed enough to keep him alive, but no more. This was in stark contrast to the other two men in the house, the aforementioned Vernon and his son, Dudley. Both were overweight to the point of gross obesity. That Vernon had lived as long as he did was a testament to the generative power of hatred. Vernon was a man fuelled by hate, driven by ambition, lacking empathy, bereft of any redeeming qualities. His son was rapidly becoming a Mini Me version of him. Petunia, his wife and the sister of Harry's late mother was the personification of a dutiful housewife. She stayed home whilst Vernon worked. Vernon subscribed to the ethos that a wife's role was to keep her husband's stomach full and balls empty, a role that over the years Petunia had come to embrace. Not that she was given much cause to cause the latter of those activities these days, such was Vernon's obesity that industrial strength male enhancement medication wouldn't have a positive impact.

Harry's mind drifted from the unpleasant journey to where he was now. The time between him exiting Vernon's car and standing just inside the entrance of London's King's Cross Station was blank. Harry could only assume that everything was too much for him and his brain shut down for a few seconds.

As he stood he became more aware of his surroundings. He noticed that he was more aware of everything around him than he ever was before. This hyper-awareness was almost staggering. The noises of the station, the hustle and bustle of people moving back and forth threatened to overwhelm him, and he had to grip the trolley that he suddenly noticed he was holding. He had no memory of getting it, no recollection of loading his trunk, no awareness of setting the gilded cage which currently housed Hedwig, his owl. He also found that he could now remember the drip to Diagon Alley with the half-giant Hagrid in absolute detail. From Hagrid's arrival to announce that Harry was a wizard, to the journey on an old motorbike which, without warning, had taken off and flew through the air, to the pattern that Hagrid had tapped on a blank wall which then dissolved to show a gateway to another world. Another universe.

Harry was sure that these memories weren't as clear this morning when he woke up. Maybe, he thought, there was something inherently magical about the station on this day which helped him along. He spent a couple of minutes trying to gather his thoughts again, and get his mind back under control.

He started to pay more attention to his surroundings. He could see a shimmer around some people which made him wonder what caused it. The people who were shimmering all had trolleys and trunks a bit like his. Were they all going to Hogwarts too? Come to think about it, Hagrid had said there was an enchanted train which took him to the castle, one of the books he had bought, Hogwarts: A History had informed him than from the day it was decided to use a (at that point in time) modern train to transport the students, rather than magical horseless carriages, the train had only ever departed from Platform 9 ¾, but neither the half-giant or the book had clearly explained how to get there.

This was how Harry came to be standing at Platform 9, looking lost. He was making himself as inconspicuous as possible, half hidden behind a pillar, watching as people, both those shimmering and those not, went about their business.

His attention was drawn by the sight of three people, two adults and a girl about his age. She had the tell-tale shimmer that Harry had now decided had to indicate that someone was magical. As it was something he had never seen before, he decided it must be unique to this place, a local enchantment to help people ensure they don't say something inappropriate to any non magical people as they made their way to the mythical platform.

The two adults didn't have the shimmering aura, but the girl, who was clearly excited was chattering away to them as she determinedly pushed her trolley. The adults were smiling as they listened to her. There was too much background noise for Harry to make out what was being said, but it was a sight he was drawn to. The older woman looked like a more mature version of the girl. Her hair was the same colour of dark brown, although shorter, a sensible adult cut. The girls hair seemed to have a life of its own, volumous, lively, for want of a better term, bushy. The man had a kindly face, a broad smile upon it which, Harry noticed, didn't quite meet his eyes. He was putting on a happy face, but there was an underlying sense of sadness that Harry picked up on. Well hidden, but there.

As he looked at this unknown girl he was drawn to her expressive features. Hidden still behind his pillar for the most part, he was able to observe safely. If someone were to describe her, the description probably wouldn't' be flattering. The wild hair framed an oval face, with traces of puppy fat still obvious on the cheeks. Her nose was retroussé, the straight slope of it curving up to a slightly bulbous tip. Her lips were thin, surrounding a slightly wide mouth with two prominent front incisors which drew your attention. Looking at her though, Harry couldn't help but think that any such description would be a crass injustice. She was much nicer looking than the sum of her parts would suggest. He watched the trio as they made it to a point where platform nine met platform 10. The girl was still chatting away, and he clearly saw both of her parents share a look of sadness. The girl had clearly picked up on this too as she stopped talking and threw herself at both of them for a three-way hug.

After a minute or so, they released each other and the girl turned and faced the wall between the two platforms. With an unmistakable air of determination she marched with her trolley toward the wall. Just as Harry was about to brace himself for the inevitable impact the girl was certainly going to experience, she vanished directly into the wall. The girls parents stood and looked at the spot where their daughter had vanished from for a minute or two before the man put his arm protectively around the woman, and they slowly walked away, saying nothing.

Harry was stunned, but also relieved. It looked like he had found his way to 9 ¾. As he was about to leave his temporary sanctuary, he heard more voices, this time a gaggle of competing children and adults. Four boys, two seemingly clones of each other, one small girl, maybe a year or two younger than Harry he guessed, and two adults. That they all had shocks of red hair identified them as being from the same family. That they were all shimmering identified them as magical, as did the fact they were heading resolutely toward the same area the girl had disappeared from.

Harry was about to head toward them when he stopped and looked at the adult woman in the group. There was something about her which caused him to stop. She was talking to the people in the group, but not really paying them attention. She was looking for something, or someone. There was something in her eyes which worried Harry.

Growing up with the Dursleys, Harry had to become adept at reading people, particularly their eyes. It was what helped him identify which of the perpetually bad moods Vernon was in and let him identify how far away he really wanted to be. It was the same talent which helped him dodge the worst of Dudley's tempers. That and the fact that when Dudley tried to hit Harry, the former telegraphed his clumsy moves well in advance. Fear makes you quick. Needless to say, Harry had speed.

The woman's eyes were cold, calculating and determined. If Harry didn't know better, he would have said that she was on the hunt for someone specific, she had the eyes of someone given a task to do and determined to see it through. It was getting close to 11, the time the train was due to depart and Harry was hoping that whichever of this group was going to be going through the invisible barrier did it quickly so that he had time to run through on his own.

The noise had eased slightly, and Harry was able to make out some of what the group were saying.

The two clones were joking, talking about pranks they planned to play on the train. The older man was reprimanding them and demanding that they empty their pockets, which the two made a show of doing. Of course there was nothing in the pockets to empty, and Harry didn't miss the knowing looks the two shared.

The younger boy seemed content enough to listen, occasionally joining in. The young girl didn't say a word. The woman however, was clearly putting on a show.

"Do you see anyone else looking around?" she asked the older man, who answered in the negative. "Maybe he's found the barrier" she continued. "Albus said that Hagrid didn't mention how to get through, but maybe he saw someone else go through the barrier."

Harry perked up at the mention of Hagrid's name, but the other name made something in his mind jump up and look for attention. Albus. That name meant something to him. Of course! Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts. He had seen the name in Hogwarts: A History. Now though, with his heightened senses and insights, the name also made him pensive. There was something about the name that he was trying to remember. It was like he had seen the name in a dream, a dream where it was made clear to him that all was not what it seemed with certain people. He glanced at the clock. 10:50.

Worries about the group before him or not, he would have to make a move pretty quickly, something which the group had agreed on. With a final complaint that she should have been able to find who she was looking for, she sent the four boys through the barrier. This just left the two adults and the young girl. Well, it was now or never, thought Harry.

He came out from behind his pillar and focused his eyes on the self same spot that he had seen the five people go through, ignoring everything and everyone else. There were only the three people left with shimmers, and they had moved off to the side. Harry picked up speed, the wheels of the trolley rattling over the concourse. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the three remaining redheads turn around and heard the woman shout out "Arthur, is that him? Arthur, stop him!"

The cry to stop him set all sorts of alarms off in Harry's head, and he picked up the pace. The man was moving back on an intercept course, it would be close but Harry was sure he should just about make it. He could see a hand approaching him, felt it brush his arm as he braced for impact on the wall, only to feel a warm sensation wash over him as he didn't' stop and kept running into another platform. As he slowed down, he saw a gleaming red train belching smoke, with a seemingly infinite number of carriages.

He didn't stop to look around, he figured if the people who tried to stop him were magical, they would be able to pass the magical barrier too. This side of the barrier though was much more crowded than the other side, something Harry planned to use. He skilfully wove a path between people until he was almost at the far end of the train. He grabbed Hedwig's cage and placed that just inside the door of the carriage he had stopped at, before going back to get his trunk inside. Once it was in, he noticed that the trunk seemed much lighter. "Heh, magic" he muttered, sniggering at the dual meaning.

He chanced a look out of the door, keeping as much of his head hidden as he could. Right enough, off in the distance he saw the same gaggle of red heads, and once again there were 7 of them. He ducked back inside, worried. He had been in the magical community for less than an hour and already someone had tried to stop him for whatever reason. He looked out of the window and saw a clock. 10:58.

Well, it was too late to worry about anything now, he thought and looked around where he was. There were compartments going up and down the train. His look up the platform showed him that the parts of the train closer to the engine were much busier than the far end he was at. He decided to see how far away from the engine he could get and wound up in the last carriage. There was a compartment there which at first glance looked empty, which suited him just fine.

As he entered, he tripped on something and stumbled forward, Hedwig's cage being dropped causing the beautiful snowy white owl to squawk in annoyance. This in turn caused a high pitched scream of fear to come from the corner of the carriage that he couldn't see when he glanced in the window.

Picking up Hedwig and then calming himself down he turned to see the source of the scream.

It was the wild haired girl he saw earlier, only this time she didn't look as animated or as happy. She didn't look like she wanted to be here.

"Are you ok? I'm sorry I frightened you, I thought this was empty."

The girl looked at him. It was clear she had been crying. "It's ok." She didn't say any more.

"Do you mind if I share your compartment?" She just shrugged and nodded.

"Thanks." Harry stowed his trunk and then hung up Hedwig's cage on a convenient hook, clearly there for just that purpose.

"I hope you don't mind me asking, but are you ok?"

She looked at him but didn't respond.

"I don't want to be nosey, but you look upset."

"S'ok" she whispered out.

Harry sat opposite her as he felt the motion of the train as if started its journey. He looked over at his companion again. "I'm Harry" was all he said.

"Hermione." Again, not much more than a whisper.

"That's not a name I've heard before" said Harry brightly. "I like it. It's… I don't know, it's different." Whatever he was trying to do, that clearly wasn't the right approach, as the word 'different' seemed to make her draw back into her shell even more. "I don't mean that as a bad thing" he quickly added, "I like different. I've felt different all my life, so I like things that are different. Like me."

That seemed to help. Hermione looked up at him. "What do you mean you've felt different?" Her voice was still quiet but seemed to have lost some of the broken quality it had.

"I grew up with my aunt and uncle, they never liked me. They told me that my parents were killed in a car crash because they were drunks, but when I got my Hogwarts letter I found out that my parents were magical. I thought that was why my relatives didn't like me, why I was never really able to make friends at school. I just always felt like I was on the outside."

It was like Harry had found the magic words. Hermione's eyes widened as he spoke. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't even aware of why he had mentioned the Dursleys, but it seemed to have done the trick.

"I never really had friends either. I thought going to Hogwarts I'd be able to make friends, but the first couple of compartments I tried to join in with laughed at me. I know I get excited at things and when I start talking I tend to rattle on, but I can't help myself, I thought it was just the way I was so when I started talking about all the books we had for this year, I love books you see, I read all the time, they started…" All of this had come out in a torrent of words until her face darkened again. "The started to laugh at me. Just like they did in primary school."

"That's stupid. Why wouldn't you be excited? I mean, we find out magic is real and we are meant to not be excited about it? I barely slept for a week after Hagrid came to visit!"

"I had Professor McGonagall who came to visit my parents and me."

With the ice broken the two continued to chat about magic for a while until Harry scratched his head and moved his hair. Hermione looked up at the movement and her eyes fell upon the lightning bolt scar which marred his forehead.

She opened her mouth to say something but didn't speak. Harry of course had noticed and asked what was wrong.

"Harry. Harry Potter? You are Harry Potter!"

"Yes, I didn't think I'd mentioned my last name, how did you know that?"

Harry could see a tension appear on Hermione's face, the same darkness from before. "You… you lied to me." He could see that she was going to shut down again and was confused.

"What did I lie about? I promise, everything I told you was the truth, I swear!"

"There have been books written about you. I bought one when I was in Diagon Alley. They said you have been living in secret after your parents were murdered, there has been stories in the wizarding newspaper about you going to Hogwarts. And you said…" she stopped talking as a tear fell from her eye. "Why? Why did you make fun of me too." Her voice had the broken sound that made Harry jump over to sit beside her.

"Hermione, I swear, I promise on anything, I've not lied to you. I was told that my parents were drunks, I never knew that they were considered heroes in the wizarding world until I spoke to Hagrid. I didn't even know for sure that magic existed until I got my Hogwarts letter. I mean I knew there were odd things going on around me from time to time, but magic? That would have been crazy."

Hermione looked over at the boy now sitting beside her. There was something about him which made her want to believe him. His green eyes never wavered from her own. "Hermione, I didn't lie to you, I had no idea that there were books about me, I didn't know that me going to Hogwarts was any kind of a big deal. Other than Hagrid and some shopkeepers in Diagon Alley, you are the only magical person I've spoken to."

He was so earnest Hermione forgot for a second that she was even upset. Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of duplicity and finding none. A small smile showed Harry that all may yet be well. "You promise?"

"I promise. I like talking to you, but that's not likely to be something I'll keep being able to do if I lied to you, would it."

She let her eyes leave his and focussed on her hands. "I like talking to you too."

"Of course, knowing that actually helps me make a bit of sense of something." Harry looked thoughtful.

"What are you talking about?"

"When I was looking to see how I found the platform, no one had told me you see, I saw you and your parents and I watched as you went through the barrier. I was about to do the same when this family came along. One of them was clearly looking for someone and when I decided just to make a run for the barrier, she saw me and told the man with them to try and stop me."

"That's terrifying!" Hermione's eyes widened.

"I was a bit terrified, but I guess they must have recognised me somehow. If you can work out who I am, stands to reason that others can do it too."

They were interrupted by the sound of the carriage door opening. Hermione saw Harry stiffen and immediately stop talking. The pudgy dark haired boy looked at the two of them.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but you haven't seen a toad hopping past have you? I've lost Trevor."

Hermione recovered first. "I've not seen one, but we can help you look if you want?"

"Thanks. My name is Neville by the way. Neville Longbottom."

"Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you and this is Harry…" she stopped as she saw the look in his eyes. He was still adjusting to that she had told him about his fame in the wizarding world. Fortunately, Neville was worried enough about his toad that he never noticed the lack of surname.

"I'm pleased to meet you, and I'd be very grateful if you would help. No one else has offered. I know a toad isn't as cool as an owl or a kneazle or a a crup, bu.. but I'm still v… very f f fond of him." The boy's dismay was making him stammer.

The three walked up and down the train a couple of times, Hermione stuck her head in most of the carriages so that Harry didn't get pounded with questions regarding just who exactly he was. The only carriages Hermione wasn't keen to ask in were the two she was previously laughed out of. Harry took those ones. The first had older girls in it who told him in no uncertain terms to piss right off. The second had two girls and three boys around his age who looked at him with a mixture of hostility and arrogance. When he asked if they had seen a toad one of the boys replied.

"Only a squib like Longbottom would have a toad as a pet. Suits him." The other three tittered as Harry's face clouded. The boy looked like a prick and sounded like one. Sitting beside him were the two other boys. Both reminded him of Dudley, not a thought he wanted to consider just then so he ducked out. As he turned away the door opened again and the boy stood before him. Thin equine features framed by slicked blonde hair. "Who are you anyway. You are clearly a first year, but I don't recognise you. Another mudblood like her?" he pointed past him toward Hermione.

Harry didn't know what the term meant but it was clearly not said as a compliment. Harry looked at him. "That's my friend." Three simple words, but they had an immediate impact on Hermione. Her eyes shot up from the ground where she had been looking and Harry could almost feel her looking at the back of his head. The boy took a closer look at Harry who could see the boys eyes flick up to his scar, which was barely visible under his hair.

"I don't believe it. The rumours were true. Potter is on the train." The words were said quietly, as if the boy himself didn't want to believe them. "You know Potter, I can help you out. The Prophet said you've been kept hidden away. I can help you figure out that some magical families are better than others. You don't want to mix with the wrong sort."

"You are right. I don't" Harry responded. Just as the blonde was breaking into a victorious smirk, Harry turned around and walked back toward Hermione. "Well, Trevor doesn't appear to be around here anywhere, let's go back to our compartment and see if we can work out where he might have gone." Without casting as much as a glance back behind him, the walked away, Hermione by his side and Neville a step behind.

As they got back to the compartment they sat down. "I don't suppose either of you know who that idiot was?"

It was Neville who answered. "His name is Draco Malfoy, his father is rich, has the ear of the Minister of Magic, rumour has it that the Malfoys were followers of He Who Must Not Ba Named during the wa…. r..."

"Why did you stop?" Harry asked.

Hermione and Neville looked at each other. "You don't know?" he asked.

"Know what?"

"How your parents died?"

Harry looked at him. "I was told they were killed in a car crash, I've since found out they were murdered, other than that, I don't know anything."

Neville looked at Hermione who nodded at him to continue. "Your parents were in the war, as were mine. He Who Must Not Be Named killed your parents the night you, well, anyway, he also had my parents tortured." He wouldn't say any more.

Harry sat there stunned. This was too much to take in at once. Hermione could see him looking pained and moved to sit beside him. "Harry?" He just looked at her. "When we get to Hogwarts and get sorted into a house, maybe you should ask someone?" He nodded.

She didn't know what made her do it. It was obvious that her first professed friend had been stunned. He looked like he was hurting. In the Granger house, when someone was upset, they were given a hug. With all the tribulations Hermione had experienced at school, she was used to getting hugs when she came home in tears. It was the most natural thing in the world then for her to reach over and wrap Harry up in a hug. She couldn't help notice how he stiffened at the contact and she was about to let go and apologise when she felt him relax.

"Thank you" he whispered.

Conversation was stunted for the remainder of the journey. Harry's keen hearing helped identify that Trevor was in fact stuck in the folds of Neville's robes. As the train rumbled on, Neville mentioned that the other two should change into their robes, so the two boys exited the compartment to give Hermione the privacy to change, before she swapped with Harry to do the same for him.

Eventually they felt the train slow and their collective mood was lifted at the thought of being able to finally see Hogwarts. Hermione had confessed to having read all their course books in advance, saying that she had almost a year to wait, her birthday being September 19. So she had plenty of time. Neville, growing up in a wizarding house, knew about the Houses, Hermione had read all about them whilst Harry who had read as much as he could safely get away with at the Dursleys, was keen to catch up with the knowledge.

"I wonder what Houses we will wind up in" he mused.

"I'm probably going to be Ravenclaw" said Hermione. "That's the house where they sort people who love to learn for the sake of learning, a bit like me."

"My parents were both Gryffindor, the house of the brave. I'll probably be a Hufflepuff. I'm not brave like they were." Neville looked pensive.

"Just getting on the train is brave Neville" said Harry. "I've no idea what House I'll be in, as long as it's not the same one as Malfoy."

They exited the train and found themselves lingering at the back of the various packs of people. In the distance the powerful voice of Hagrid could be heard through the darkness.

"Firs' years, firs' years with me! No more'n 4 a boat"

Harry found himself in a boat with Hermione, Neville and another boy he hadn't seen on the train who introduced himself with a broad Irish lilt as Seamus Finnegan.

All conversation stopped as the majestic castle came into view.

"It's beautiful" whispered Harry.

"It's… it's… magical" was Hermione's response.

The trip was far too short for the muggle born or raised first years, who wanted to savour the splendour of the school they would be calling home for the next few months. It was only when they got inside that they realised the magic on the outside was nothing compared to the magic on the inside.

The older students were directed to the main hall leaving the first years standing around. Harry spotted the blonde idiot from the train, and also noticed the redhead from the station.

Malfoy looked around and swaggered over to Harry. "You still have a chance to make the right decision, Potter." Malfoy said Harry's last name deliberately loud enough that everyone else heard. Harry could hear the wispers.

"Potter? Harry Potter? He's here?"

As he looked around he saw the redhead looking directly at him. The redhead gave a thumbs up and a smile, a half simile being returned by Harry who was still trying to ignore the boy before him.

Finally, he looked at him. "Malfoy, isn't it?" The blonde preened at being recognised. "I'm happy with the decision I made on the train." Harry then turned around to look for Hermione and Neville, deliberately not paying attention to the sniggers he heard. Malfoy looked like he was about to retort when a new voice cut through everything else.

Harry looked at the head of the gaggle of first years and saw a stern looking woman glaring down on them.

"Good evening. I am Professor McGonagall and I am the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." She looked over them. "This school is over one thousand years old, and will be your home for the next few years. When you go through into the great hall, you will be sorted into your House. Your House will be your family when you are here. You will learn together, win or lose house points for your House, you will support each other and help each other. Each of the houses embodies some of the essence of the founders of Hogwarts. Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor. Whatever house you are sorted into, be proud."

With that, the professor turned and the doors to the great hall opened. The first years were awestruck at the enchanted ceiling and floating candles. There was a central aisle which there were marched up, with the sorting stool and sorting hat waiting at the other end.

"I hope we are in the same house" Harry heard Hermione whisper in his ear. "If we aren't will you still want to be my friend?" He could hear the tension in her voice.

"Of course I will. But I don't think it will be a problem, I'm pretty sure we will be in the same house."

"Do you think so?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure why, but something tells me…"

Harry didn't get any further before the voice of McGonagall silenced them. She held before her a scroll and with a solemn voice announced "Abbot, Hannah". A small blonde girl nervously walked up to the front and sat on the stool. The hat was placed on her and after a few seconds made it's pronouncement.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table with the yellow banners erupted in welcome to their latest member. "Bones, Susan" As Susan became the second 'Puff in a row, the rest of the first years started to relax slightly. Terry Boot was next and became the years's first Ravenclaw. Lavender Brown became the first Gryffindor and Millicent Bulstrode the first Slytherin.

As the hat worked its way through the alphabet to G, Harry could feel the tension emanate from the girl standing beside him. Without thinking he reached out and took her hand, hoping it would calm her down. She looked at him in surprise and then briefly smiled. As she heard "Goldstein, Anthony" be called out she reckoned she was next. After the hat shouted out Ravenclaw she tensed.

"Granger, Hermione."

Harry gave her hand a squeeze before letting to and smiling at her. She nervously made her way up and sat down. As Professor McGonagall put the hat on her head, the noise of the great hall faded away. She could hear an ancient voice in her head.

"What have we here… You are going to be a hard one to sort, Miss Granger… You have the capacity to be as loyal as any Hufflepuff. You have a thirst for knowledge that would put a smile on Rowena's face. Your ambition and determination could suit you well in Slytherin, but you would walk through fire for any friends close enough to get to know the real you. You'd make Godric proud. What else do I sense. Mr Potter eh… There's a connection there to be sure. Where would he wind up I wonder. He'd follow you, that's for sure, but where should I have you lead him."

Hermione was confused by some of what the hat was saying. "Erm, excuse me, can anyone else hear any of what you are saying? And no-one else seemed to take this long to be sorted. What's wrong with me?"

"Peace, my child, nothing is wrong with you. If more students had the attributes you have, sorting would mean something once again. No, nothing at all wrong with you, I just wish there were more like you. I have a solemn duty to put you in the best house for you, regardless of how long it takes."

"I've read about Slytherin, I can't see me fitting in there." Hermione was trying to be helpful.

"You may be correct, Miss Granger, but that's not… Oh, ok, not Slytherin." The hat seemed to take forever. "Well, there are certain values you hold absolute, honesty, diligence, you are a hard person to get close to, but when someone does, they will find it's worth it. Well, with everything else I've seen, and what else I know, it better be…"