Undead are easy to handle. All you need is some blessed water, a holy symbol, and fire. Otherworldly beings are of a similar note. The right ritual, a good enough dispel, or if all else fails you kill the summoner. Even dragons can be dealt with if you know what you're doing: bribe them with treasure or run like hell opened behind you and pray either way.

What Harry Potter had difficulty dealing with most was people. In particular, crowds of them.

The first of September had started out brilliantly for the eleven year old. He woke up, ate a filling breakfast of his favorite foods with his beloved guardian, and was ready for life before the stroke of nine. Then it all flushed away.

Traffic, crowds, mothers doing last minute shopping with their kids for the impending semesters of school, adults rushing to work, travelers looking for their trains, and inconvenient idiots just getting in the way brainlessly.

Getting dropped off at King's cross hadn't annoyed Harry as much as he'd thought. His guardian was busy, and he could always see her whenever he wanted. What was upsetting him was the fact that somehow the adults at the station kept walking into him. The first time was okay, the second time was annoying, the third was infuriating, and after a close call with a fourth Harry's good morning was ruined.

"No spells in public." He muttered to himself, a mantra to hold him back from flinging firebolts in a tantrum. "No spells in public. No spells in public." Harry liked to think of himself as mature for his age, his guardian thought it was adorable.

After dragging along his luggage by his lonesome, the young man had to pause between the borders of platforms nine and ten. The ticket he had received was for a 'platform nine and three-quarters', but of course there was no instructions on how to actually get to the platform.

"Ugh… Wizards..." Harry complained, massaging the bridge of his nose. Either his guardian was toying with him again, or the Wizarding world was just that inconvenient. Both sides were equally likely.

The eleven year old peeked around, looking for somewhere close by to stay out of view. Logic said if the name on the ticket was nine and three quarters, then reasonably the entrance would be somewhere around where he stood. He just needed a better view.

A small nook between a corner wall and a pay phone's booth provided plenty of cover for the young caster. He propped his trunk against the wall, and pulled a vial filled with blackish-gray fur from his luggage. "Let's hope this works..."

Harry stood, slipping the vial into a pocket. He clenched his fist in a practiced manner, palm up and stiff. "Visus quam aspectus" he recited in whispered tones, looking directly at the ceiling of the platform. He felt a small jolt as the spell took hold, the released arcana swirling above him. Gingerly, Harry opened his suddenly stiff fingers.

Above him, the shimmering haze of a freshly summoned arcane eye floated about lazily and unseen by those below it.

Harry had to concentrate, both to hold the spell and to not stumble from his split vision. The young man secured the case of his traveling trunk and sat upon it, a practiced way to make sustaining his spell easier. As he took his seat, a thought was all that was needed to make the eye move to his will.

It took a minute to get the floating eye into a decent position. High enough to overlook both of the platforms, and the right angle to cover the crowd. Then it became a game that Harry liked to partake in now and again, people watching.

Those tugging along briefcases could be ignored. Same with those without kids tagging along. People wearing backpacks or duffel bags were ignore-able. It was all a matter of watching and eliminating. Eventually Harry spotted what he needed.

An average couple and their equally indistinct daughter were pushing a trunk along with a handcart, normally not enough to give them away. It was the tome open in the daughter's hands that gave them away.

"Hogwarts, a History?" Harry questioned, "Bingo!" He focused the vigilant gaze of his arcane eye on the family as they walked right for one of the dividing barriers between the train platforms, and rather than spilling luggage and cursing the family disappeared, moving through the wall like a ghost.

"Ohhh..." Harry muttered aloud, feeling foolish. "Illusion spell. Right, kinda obvious now that I saw it."

Harry grabbed his trunk and pulled it to the barrier with an hour to spare. Plenty of time to find a compartment, stow his luggage and pull out a book of his own to read.

Platform nine and three-quarters was impressive in its own way. Space distorting magics had converted what was a crack between bricks into a private train station with room to spare. In the center of it all was a crimson colored train surrounded by parents and their kids.

Harry pointedly ignored the small pang of loss he felt. He had a guardian and was very happy with her, thank you very much. "Ouch, my nonexistent orphan pains." he thought to himself. Sass was his self defense mechanism and he would embrace it till it killed him.

It was either a stroke of fortune or a foreshadowing of bad things to come when Harry felt his ears metaphorically burning, with more than a few people nearby that were casually looking about and saying his name.

"Did you know?" one child excitedly asked their friends, "Harry Potter is supposed to come to Hogwarts this year!" The aforementioned Harry couldn't reach the safety of a private compartment fast enough.

"I wonder if we can spot his scar?" Harry tried to casually pat his hair down as he walked past.

"I bet he looks so heroic. He'll be a gryff for sure!" He wasn't speeding up, no sir, not at all.

"I wonder what kind of girl he likes?" That one almost made him trip.

"I am eleven years old!" The undiscovered celebrity thought, perplexed,"What is wrong with these people?"

Harry hopped onto a car in the middle of the train, entering the first free spot he spotted with a smile and a sigh of relief. "I really hope this isn't how the rest of my Hogwarts life is gonna be." he murmured, plopping his trunk on the seat opposite of his and pulling out a copy of Kipling's 'The Jungle Book'.

Harry leaned back into his seat, trying to keep the appearance that the opposite seat was being saved for another. However, the occasional voices he could hear out the train window left him feeling uneasy. He glanced at the compartment door, nobody stood outside.

"Better safe than sorry I guess..." Harry placed a hand over his face, palm centered over his nose. "Fieri Alius." he incanted, focusing again.

The chill of goosebumps flowed forth from his face as the spell's energies flowed over him. His hair bled over from the color of raven's feathers to a sun kissed brown. The tone of his skin darkened, not that far from the tan of someone who spent the summer at the beach. His eyes switched from the shining emerald green to a radiant sky blue. Harry glanced at the stranger's reflection in the window, just as the line thin lightning bolt scar on his head faded to nothing, replaced by smooth skin.

Appearance hidden to his satisfaction, Harry cracked open his book and resumed where he had left off. He had just gotten to Kaa's Hunting and he was determined to finish the book as soon as he could. Harry had little doubt he would have the free time to read while studying a whole new system of magic.

...

...-ooo000ooo-…

...

It was little over an hour later when the first interruptions started. The Alter Form spell had been renewed to hold for another hour, and the train had started chugging along to their destination. Harry had done his best to ignore the sounds when the various ages of children began to wander in search of their own seats or their friends.

More than a few peeked into his cabin, either hoping their friends were in the compartment or hunting for a sighting of the ever elusive Harry Potter and where he was hiding.

Harry refused to call what he was up to hiding. Concealment, evading, or something more complex sounded better. He wasn't hiding, he was just evading and concealing himself from people who don't know him but think they do.

"Don't they have better things to do?" Harry mentally questioned, idly watching the fifteenth person gaze into his compartment hoping to see what the dozens prior didn't.

He would have huffed and returned to his book, if not for something odd that caught his attention. The queer sound of a stuttering rumble that would have been more at home in a swamp instead of a moving train car. Harry blinked in disbelief as the sound repeated.

"Have I gone mad or is that a frog?" he asked aloud. He almost expected laughter, as if it were a classmate's prank.

The rumble changed into a staccato of chirping. Harry placed the book down, and stood to stretch his legs, "That is a frog. Why is there a frog?"

Harry opened his compartment door, expecting to peek out and see some giant frog down the hall. Instead, the moment he opened the door a toad made a mighty leap into the compartment and waddled its way behind Harry's trunk.

Harry blinked again, "What?"

The brown skin black eyed amphibian gave the standing wizard a sideways glance, as if to say "What?" in return.

Harry closed the door, shaking his head as he sat back down to return to his book. "Just to be clear," the wizard warned the toad, "If I find slime or filth on my belongings afterwards we will be having words."

The toad made a sort of chirp noise that one could interpret as agreement.

...

...-ooo000ooo-…

...

It was another hour before another interruption occurred. Thankfully it was just a young woman with cart of snacks and drinks. Harry bought three bottles of something called 'Butterbeer', a pair of 'Cauldron Cakes', a package of 'Drooble's Best Blowing Gum', and a small bag of 'Every Flavor Beans'. The first cake was swiftly devoured and followed by a bottle of the Butterbeer, both a little too sweet for Harry's tastes. The rest was wrapped in a spare shirt for safety and placed into his trunk for later.

Meanwhile the toad had made itself at home, sitting on the back of the seat opposite Harry and had made itself content with watching the countryside pass them by through the window.

Harry was pointedly ignoring the ever increasing worry in the faint chatter. The Boy who Lived hadn't been found yet, and many were starting to worry if he was going to be at Hogwarts at all.

Harry placed his hand over his face again, "Fieri Alius." Shivering as the spell was refreshed. "Reading now, drama later." he thought, turning his attention to the exploits of the wild boy Mowgli.

...

...-ooo000ooo-…

...

Not thirty minutes later came a knock on Harry's compartment door. A polite rap-tap-tap. Harry stayed seated, but marked his book and opened the door. A nervous looking young man and a bushy haired brunette young woman stood at the threshold.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked.

"Pardon me, but have you seen a toad?" the young lady asked, "Neville here has lost his."

Harry nonchalantly pointed at the amphibious intruder, still perched on his seat. "Is that him?"

"Trevor!" the nervous boy exclaimed, rushing into the room to claim his wayward pet.

Harry grinned a little, "Well, there's a happy ending. I thought a toad had just jumped on the train at some point."

"N-no, Trevor's my pet." Neville explained, "He just keeps wandering off. I don't know how he keeps getting away from me."

Harry shrugged, "He's been fine here with me, and was happy watching out the window. Maybe he didn't like where you were keeping him."

Neville looked almost guilty, gazing at the floor.

Harry noticed. "Wait, where were you keeping him?"

"In a box in my trunk?" Neville weakly explained.

Harry rolled his eyes. "No wonder. Look, put him back on the seat and grab your stuff and bring it back here. I'll keep an eye on Trevor, and you can join me."

Neville perked up at once, "Really?"

Harry grinned a little wider, "Sure, now go get your trunk before Trevor realizes whats up and decides to flee again."

Neville needed no more encouragement and left in a hurry, leaving Harry alone with the softly smiling girl.

"That was nice of you." She pointed out, before holding out a hand in greeting. "I'm Hermione Granger."

Harry took the hand by her fingers and turned it slightly to plant a kiss on it as he had been taught. "Pleasure to meet you." He said with a smile, "My name is… uh… John Doe?" he finished lamely.

Hermione's face was momentarily startled before a look of realization came over her and she smirked, "Sure you are."

Harry's grin twitched, becoming a little awkward and hard to keep up. "No entiendo ingles?" he tried, butchering the accent and pronunciation in ways that would offend anyone fluent in the language.

Hermione dropped into the side of Trevor's seat closest to the door, trying and failing to hold in giggles. "What was that?"

Harry didn't pout, nor did he look away in embarrassment. He swears.

"Learning anything but English is hard for me." he admitted.

Her giggle spell lasted long enough for Neville to return with his own trunk, and it was quickly loaded into the overhead storage. Thankfully for Harry he was too excited to notice Hermione's barely suppressed giggle fit.

As Neville began to move into his own seat, Harry lifted his own trunk up to storage to make room. Hermione stood, and moved to the door. "I'll be right back, just going to grab my things." and left before Harry could say a thing. With a roll of his eyes, Harry returned to his book. Only glancing up when he heard Neville awkwardly clear his throat.

Harry peeked over the top of his book, "Yes?" he coaxed.

"Thank you!" Neville said excitedly, and a little loudly.

Harry's book lowered a little, "For what?" he asked, "I didn't do anything."

"Well, you returned Trevor to me."

Harry shook his head with soft disagreement, "To be fair, he barged in and I didn't bother kicking him out."

The silence was thick and awkward to the point Harry was certain if it were to physically manifest it would stop the train cold.

"Sooo..." Harry began awkwardly. Then a stray thought crossed his mind and he went for it. "What did the left nut say to the right nut?" he asked with a roguish grin.

Neville was startled enough to ask "What?" without thinking.

"Don't talk to the guy in the middle, he's a real dick!" Harry said unabashedly.

Neville tried, poor boy that he was, he tried. But the laugh ripped out of him before he could hold it, and with it came dozens more like it. "T-that's so stupid." he protested.

Harry leaned back in his seat as Neville tried in vein to rein in his case of the giggles. "One of life's greatest pieces of wisdom: 'When in doubt, go for the dick joke.'" Harry explained with a smile.

...

...-ooo000ooo-…

...

Hermione returned to the compartment in time to almost regret it. She could hear both boys roaring with laughter, and Harry struggling to get his next joke out between giggles.

"- and the daughter is confused so she asks her dad, 'Dad whats that thing hanging down under the elephant', the dad looks and says-" Harry paused to hold in another crack of laughter. "'Oh! That's his penis.' The daughter asks, 'Why did Mommy say it's nothing.' and the dad says..." Harry cracked again, "the dad says 'Oh, she's just spoiled.'"

There was a lull in the giggles as Harry kept making a cough that told every how hard he was holding it in. Meanwhile just outside the door, Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair, having gotten it immediately.

The instant Neville said "Oh!" and started laughing, Harry lost it and started laughing as well.

Hermione tried to calm herself and neither laugh nor remain flushed. She succeeded at the first, but Harry instantly spotted the red faced expression she had when she finally opened the doors.

Both boys tried to straighten up in the presence of their companion, however the giggles and flushed faces persisted.

"Welc-" Harry coughed, "Welcome back Hermione." he greeted. Neville only nodded, a hand covering the bottom of his pudgy face.

"I see you two are getting along well." She tried to be demure, but the face ruined it. "Did I miss anything."

Harry shook his head in the negative. "Just us guys joking around." Neville covered a lingering laugh with a cough while Trevor made another ribbit behind him.

"So," This time Hermione cut in before any more dirty jokes could be used to dissuade an awkward silence, "Have either of you tried any magic yet?" she asked, practicing her tried and true method of hiding embarrassment: Academics.

Neville looked away, a little of his mirth clearly stolen by his own embarrassment, "No, my gran didn't want me to get in trouble since we're not supposed to cast spells outside of school."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Really? I'd figure that we'd at least be encouraged to practice a little." He glanced to his side and noticed something amiss.

"Well I've tried a few simple spells just for practice." Hermione boasted, "Nobody in my family has magic at all, and it all worked for me."

Harry was looking for his book, having misplaced it during the jokes and guffaws, "I've been casting for years now." he stated idly, "To be honest I just learned about this wand waving stuff this year." It was only because he was looking at the floor that he missed the curious expressions on both of their faces.

"For years?" Hermione asked, "Do you mean like family rituals or something?"

Harry was till too busy looking for his book to notice the landmine he was standing upon, "Rituals yes, family not so much. And I mean more than just that, I know some Abjurations, a few Illusions, a number of conjurations… Neville, be a mate and move your foot I think my book slid behind you… Oh and I've also learned a number of Transmutation spells if I have a need."

Harry found the offending book, hidden beneath Neville's spot, and grabbed it intending to return to the lands of India when he noticed the perplexed expressions on their faces. "What? Did I get some dust on my face?"

Neville looked confused and a little of something Harry couldn't place. It was Hermione's look that was alarming to him. She was looking at him like he was a tempting little puzzle that she was close to solving and needed to finish.

He could see the shock blossom the moment she 'figured' it out, "Oh my!" she exclaimed softly, pressing fingers to her lips. "You're Harry Potter!" she hissed out excitedly.

Neville's attention snapped to her before turning back to Harry. "Really?"

Harry covered his hands with a groan, letting his spell drop for the first time in hours. His true features, the black hair and green eyes, emerged as the old ones melted away. "Aww… what gave me away?"

Hermione's smirk came back, a cat who caught her canary. "John Doe, Harry?"

Harry did not turn away with a flushed face, he swears it up and down to this day. "It's hard making up names..."

"Well, I wasn't perfectly sure until you mentioned transmutation magics… Spells that change the shape of something else?" Harry could hear the pride in her voice and returned to covering his face.

"Neville, my newfound friend. Buddy, mate, chum, ally, or whatever you want to call it, please tell me when she stops gloating."

Neville brightened a little at the terms of endearment, "So you are Harry Potter?" he asked.

Harry leaned back in his seat, still covering his face with his hands. "Yesss…." he groaned out, "Boy Who Lived, youngest dark lord slayer, last of the Potters, and whatever other garbage titles that one can dramatically stick to a war orphan." Harry's open disdain for the titles were very apparent.

"I know all about you!" Hermione exclaimed, somehow missing the obvious, "You're in so many books! Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century-"

"And I am sure they are filled with whatever garbage was needed to make it appealing to the masses." Harry cut in, a scowl on his face.

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione paused, noticing his expression.

"The people who wrote those books never talked to me about it, probably put together their own thoughts and facts about it." Harry stated, "At the end of the day, I don't really care. History has been written by the victors and all that." Harry looked her right in the eyes, "But please, please, please don't think you know me because of what some stranger wrote down about me."

Hermione felt the wind get ripped from her sails, but still managed to nod.

"Good," Harry perked right up, grin back in place, "Now if the two of you want to tell everyone you know all of that because we're friends that's another deal altogether."

Neville nodded shyly, "I'd like that Harry."

Hermione gave a forced little smile but nodded along. "I'd like that too."

"Excellent, when you two start writing books about me I expect at least ten percent of the profits."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Neville started grinning again.

It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Or a franchise, or both. They aren't always mutually exclusive.

...

...-ooo000ooo-…

...

It was thankfully another two or so hours before the next interruption of note, a visitor and not necessarily a welcome one. A gangly redhead, nibbling on a sandwich with one hand while holding his worn down trunk in the other... unrepentantly peeking in their window like he had found gold.

With a loud slam, the compartment door was slid open, "Merlin! Are you Harry Potter?" the invader asked, as loud and welcome as possible.

Hermione and Neville were silent, their conversation about magical plants shelved. Harry glared over the top of his book, already irked and silently moving to steamed. "No, I'm Jon Doe. She's my sister Jane, and he's Munificent Bystander."

Hermione snorted.

The red intruder stood still, processing the response and stunned. Then he glanced at Harry's forehead, "Nuh-uh! I can see the scar!" He protested, loudly. "You have to be Harry Potter! I can tell we're gonna be best mates!"

Harry looked at the redhead, "Is he genuinely this thick or is he running on a sugar high?" Harry's eyes flicker-blinked as his brain kick started, "Who are you?"

"Ron Weasily," he answered, stepping into the cabin. "Shove over so I can put up my trunk."

Harry stood up, the steamed moving to annoyed, "Yeah, no." Harry stood in the way. "Go find somewhere else to sit."

"But I wanna sit here!"

"Nope. Not happening."

"Well why not?"

"Hermione wanna give him the itemized list or should I?"

"First off, you were quite rude just barging in here. Second, you ignored how Harry didn't want attention by bellowing his name like a howler monkey. And Finally you were exceptionally rude again by insisting that you were going to join us with out so much as a please."

Ron stood their stunned and speechless. "But- What- I mean." he babbled, before realizing he had been insulted and flushing red.

Harry gave the young miss a theatrical bow, "Thank you Hermione." Harry then turned back into the thorn in his side, "You can leave now."

"But they told me we could be best mate."

"Yes, no thank you, goodbye now." Harry replied, giving the boy a solid push to move him back into the corridor before closing the door and locking it for good measure.

As harry sat back down and re-opened his book, Ron's temper got the better of him and he started jerking and pulling at the handle. "Let me in!" he demanded, tugging furiously, "Open the door!"

Harry frowned, and lifted his hand palm up with the fingers pinched together. "Phantasma Tactus."

Behind Ron Weasley a floating hand appeared. Transparent and ghostly but obviously something physical, as the hand floated down and tugged the back of the fuming boy's shirt over his head before applying a dope slap to the back of his skull. Job finished, the hand faded away.

Ron reacted to the sudden blindness and harmless smack like a bull before a red flag. Without removing the improvised blindfold he turned and charged, intent on attacking his unseen and nonexistent attacker. Instead, he met a stud in the wall of the corridor head first and ricocheted to the floor in a painful heap.

Forehead bruised, pride insulted, and the pain was enough. Then the laughter started down the halls as more than one had witnessed the end of his tantrum. Mages in training they may have been, but even if wizarding world culture could hand out a lethal weapon to an eleven-year-old it didn't mean they had the maturity to match.

Frustrated and embarrassed, Ron Weasley could only kick the door one more time in anger before hastily dragging his possessions down the corridor in shame. He tried to ignore the mocking that followed him from the train car.

The trio inside the compartment had more important things on their mind than a rude ginger monkey.

"Was that wandless magic!" Hermione hissed at her new friend. Hissed in the same sense that someone borderline screams when they find a mythical lost treasure.

Harry was taken aback by the reaction. "What? You mean Mage Hand? It's no big deal, it's just a cantrip. Almost all the casters I know can use it, except for priests, clerics, holy knights, paladins and those sorts."

Neville shook his head, "I've never seen that spell before, or even heard of it."

"Really? Weird." Harry gave Neville a puzzled look, "So what, you just know about wand magic in England or is it all over the world."

The confusion only got worse from there, "No, gran and the family have only ever used magic with wands… unless you mean potions and runes?"

"Speaking as the one who grew up without magic, isn't it a big deal that Harry can cast a spell without a wand?"

"It is, a huge deal." Neville explained, "I mean I heard stories about the Boy Who Lived but I didn't think any part of them were true."

Harry frowned, "Oy! This is less of a Boy-Who-Hates-Titles thing and more a me thing. I worked hard to learn these spells."

"Sorry Harry!" Neville yelped, "I didn't mean to imply-"

"It's fine Neville!" Harry cut him off apologetically, "Sorry, I just hate the title stuff… Is it really such a big deal? I've been using cantrips since I was a brat. Anyone can learn them, it just takes time and practice."

"I doubt everyone can use them Harry," Hermione pointed out, "Otherwise wouldn't Neville heard of them?"

"I'm just saying cantrips are the lowest tier of magic I've learned. The way I was taught about them is they can be cast by anyone willing to learn them."

"So you could even teach them to Muggles?" Hermione's question was impatiently sarcastic, but Harry didn't catch that.

"Yes. What part of everyone are you not getting?" Harry said insistently.

Hermione glanced at Harry, the look was back. The puzzled look that screamed she was trying to solve something again. "Harry, Neville, what do you call someone who learns spells because of magic in their blood."

"A Sorcerer." Harry responded.

"A Wizard." Neville hesitantly replied.

Hermione nodded, "Okay, now answer me this: how did you learn your magics."

"A spell book and gran's instructions?"

This time Harry paused. "My guardian...she taught me how to use the magic she gave me."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean 'gave' you?"

"I don't know how to explain it better." Harry replied, "She taught me magic, showed me how to use spells. Helped me learn what works and what doesn't?"

"Okay…" Hermione looked hesitantly at Harry, "Do you think there is a spell… a cantrip, that you can teach us before we reach Hogwarts?"

Harry shrugged, feeling rather helpless before Hermione's quest for knowledge. "I guess?"

By the time the three arrived at Hogwarts the inside of the cabin had been scorched in various places. None of them could, or rather would, answer as to how that came to be.

...

...-ooo000ooo-…

...

Hermione Granger liked one thing as much as she liked knowledge. She liked to experiment with what she knew. A fact Harry Potter learned quite swiftly after she managed her first casting of the Prestidigitation cantrip.

It was the simplest of all cantrips. A spell used as a sort of a utility gimmick. While other cantrips were stuck with single specific effects, Prestidigitation used a burst of arcane energies to create simple effects like make a noise, change the temperature of something, or change the color of something for no more than an hour. Basic, simple, temporary. A practice spell for other, better spells to build off of.

Hermione and Neville had practiced as Harry tried his first attempts at teaching. Which was more him telling them how he did it, and then encouraging them until they found something that worked for them. The three used Harry's spare bottles of butterbeer as their starting targets. Either they tried to change the color of the bottle or to cool and warm it, depending on their last casting. Harry was certain that the flavor for both bottles was ruined after the fifth casting from each.

As expected of the easiest cantrip that Harry knew, both managed to get the spell in a few tries. From there, they both tried their hand at every use Harry could think of. Neville had been satisfied and stopped at that point, a little concerned after a spray of sparks had gone too close to Trevor.

Hermione however… she had been given a new toy and she was determined to find out all she could do with it. Harry had returned to his book, intent on reading for the remainder of the trip. Neville was tending to Trevor and feeding him something from his trunk.

Hermione had pulled a sheet of parchment from somewhere and was jotting down notes as she cast Prestidigitation again and again and again. Pulling into Hogsmeade station didn't slow her at all.

They left behind their luggage as instructed by a voice echoing in the train, and followed the crowd to where they could hear a loud voice calling out ""Firs' years over here! All the while Hermione kept repeating her spell, trying different effects.

"Ecce!" she cast with a twisting flick of the wrist, summoning a swirling ball of sea blue lights.

"Ecce!" she cast again, this time calling forth a burst of flame in the same sea blue colors.

"Ecce!" the determined prodigy cast yet again, the foot wide burst of flames unfolding in an emerald swirl.

The children around the three were looking at her in amazement, muttering all about how impressive it was, and some of the obviously magical raised were focused on the fact that she was casting without a wand. The fact that neither Harry or Neville were reacting to her casting was only adding to her mystique. Harry was just thankful that Hermione's unintentional showing off was distracting everyone from noticing him.

They followed the crowd of first years, all of whom were fallowing the very tall man in the front that was holding a lamp on a staff. Hermione denies to her dying day that Harry and Neville had to occasionally give her a nudge or a turn so she didn't wander off the path. She is not that obsessive about learning magic, she swears.

The end of their dark and wooded path from the platform gave them their first glance of Hogwarts Castle. The sight of which caused many of the children to let out a chorus of 'Ooooh!' The noise was enough to pull Hermione from her study induced stupor and she joined her friends in gazing at the castle with their dreams in their hearts.

Hermione wanted to learn all there was to know about magic. Neville wanted to live up to his family's expectation of him. Harry wondered what it would be like to parkour across the rooftops of the ancient magical castle.

More than once, his guardian had thought it was a mistake to bring Harry to France.

If she'd known how much insanity it would cause, she probably have let the two stay longer.