The sun shone down on the great scarlet engine as hundreds of people milled around on the platform beside it. They were dressed in a mix of styles, some were in clothes that would also be seen in the rest of London, but many of them were wearing robes, cloaks and pointed hats.

But the strangeness didn't stop there. If one was to watch them closely, they would notice that despite the train preparing to leave, no one was making their way onto the train. In fact, no one was walking anywhere at all. They were standing in groups or alone, some having light conversations about nothing serious, but others totally silent.

It was as if they were all following the instructions of a very short script.

That is, except for one boy.

Ron Weasley was very confused. He had no idea why everyone was acting so strangely, or even how he'd ended up in this situation in the first place.

"Come on, Neville. Can't you say anything else?" Ron said dejectedly.

"Careful Trevor," Neville said to the toad in his hands, "I don't want to lose you before we even get to Hogwarts."

Ron sighed and turned away. Everyone was the same, no matter how Ron prompted them, they would only respond in certain ways. When he'd woken up this morning, in his eleven-year-old body, on the first of September 1991, and hadn't that been a surprise, his family had been the same way as Neville was. Well, at least with his family he could have something of a conversation, but only when Ron asked particular questions. How he knew what those questions were, he didn't know.

Why he'd thought things would be different at King's Cross, he wasn't sure, but a dozen failed attempts at communication had proved him wrong anyway.

He was about to go and start a conversation with somebody else, maybe find Dean and Seamus, but instead collapsed onto a bench. What was the point?

"Ron!" A voice called. "Ron!"

Ron stood up, looking around the crowded station for the owner of the voice. It sounded like… but it had been so long since he had heard her at age eleven.

"Ron!" The voice said again, a head of bushy hair appearing from between a large group.

"Hermione!" Ron cried, rushing forwards to meet her.

They crashed together in a hug, squeezing each other tightly.

"Thank goodness you're here," Hermione said into his chest.

"Thank Merlin that you're a real person," Ron replied, "and not one of these… fake people."

"Enpeesees," Hermione corrected him.

Ron broke away from their hug and held Hermione at arm's length, a confused look on his face. "What's an empty sea?"

"N-P-C. It stands for non-player character. It's a computer game term."

Ron stared at her blankly.

Hermione sighed. "Think of them like side characters in a story. They don't have any personality beyond their assigned role."

"Hermione, what is going on? Why have my family… why has everyone been turned into these NPCs? Why are we eleven again?"

Hermione looked at Ron, then looked around the platform nervously.

"I don't know, Ron, but I assume Harry will show up soon."

"Harry?" Ron asked, "why?"

"Well," said Hermione, "whatever has put us into this situation, it's unlikely to have affected us two and not Harry."

"That's a fair point. What's the last thing that you remember?"

Hermione sat down on the bench, frowning as she tried to remember.

"We were at Hogwarts… there was a battle…"

"Fred!" Ron cried, jumping up. "Fred had just been… but he's alright now," Ron said, pointing out his brother across the platform. "Hermione, do you see what this means? If this is 1991 again, then we can save everyone!"

Hermione's frown grew more pronounced.

"Maybe. Hey, you were at your house, right? Before you came here, that is."

"Yeah, but it was strange… well I mean all of this is strange, but even so. I could kind of have conversations with my family. I had some idea, in my head, that they would respond to some things I would say. Like I asked my mum about the Express, she told me about it, but when I asked her about what was going on, she just told me to hurry up and brush my teeth."

Hermione nodded. "My parents were the same. If this is like a Muggle game, then the NPCs will only have certain scripted responses."

"So like, we could ask Flitwick about charms, but not about Quidditch or something?" Ron looked at Hermione.

"I guess so," she replied uncertainly.

"But how is it that we know what things to say that will get a proper response?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I have no idea."

That worried Ron. Something that Hermione didn't know?

"Guys!"

"Harry!"

Harry ran up to them, not the man they had known, but the small and vulnerable boy he had been at eleven.

"What on Earth is going on!"

The scenery rushed by the windows of the compartment the three friends had entered. As soon as they had closed the door behind them, the train's whistle had sounded and the long journey to Scotland began.

"Didn't your cousin ever play RPG games, Harry?"

Harry snorted. "Dudley never played any games that required an excess of reading."

Hermione looked insulted, as if the very concept of a person who avoided reading was a personal affront to her.

"But surely you have some idea," she asked, "about games like this."

Harry wiggled his hand, as if to say a little. "Shouldn't that kind of game have a menu or a stats page or something?"

"A stats page?" Said Ron, desperate to find something he could relate this situation to, "like a Quidditch player?"

"Eh, kind of," Hermione replied, "something that shows a character's attributes. Their strength, intelligence, etcetera. Anyway, I tried all of the mental and vocal commands that I could think of, but nothing has shown up."

"I think we're getting off point," Harry said, "isn't the most important question, 'how did we get here?' and 'how do we get back?' Weren't we in a battle?"

"We were looking for the snake, right?" Ron asked.

"That's right! The snake. The last…" Harry's voice trailed off, worry and confusion showing on his face.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other then back to Harry.

"Harry? The last what? The last horcrux, right?" Hermione asked, in concern. "We had to kill the snake, remember?"

Harry nodded, his brow furrowed as if he was trying to recall something in the distant past.

"Yeah, but I feel like I'm forgetting something," he said slowly, "something important. Something to do with the snake, or was it Snape? Did we go into the Forbidden Forest together?"

Ron and Hermione shared another look.

"No," said Ron slowly, shaking his head, "I don't remember that at all."

"So, whatever has happened to us, to put us in this situation, has affected our short-term memories," Hermione surmised.

"So, we don't know how we got in," Harry continued, "but how do we get out?"

Hermione looked at Harry incredulously. "Beat the game, duh."

Now it was Harry's turn to look at her incredulously.

"Hermione, it'll take at least seven years to get back to where we were. We were in the middle of a war. We can't wait that long."

"Uhh, we still don't understand what's happening here," Ron said, "so we don't actually know what's happening to the real world right now."

"Plus, I'm not sure it'll take seven years," Hermione added, "if this is a game, then it'll probably just cover the major events."

"But even hours spent here could matter!" Harry said.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air, "what do you want me to say, Harry? There's no exit button, is there? Winning the game is the obvious way out, but if you have a better idea…"

"Sorry," said Harry, holding up his hands for peace, "I know this isn't your fault. This whole scenario is just… confusing and frustrating, that's all."

After Harry and Hermione had taken a deep breath, Ron spoke up.

"So… what's next?"

As soon as he'd said it, the door rattled and it opened to reveal Ron's twin brothers.

"Hey Ronniekins, we're going down the train to see Lee," one of them said. "Apparently he has a new pet tarantula. Make sure you introduce yourself to your new friends."

They left as quickly as they came.

"That was abrupt," Hermione said, "even for them."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "but I feel strangely compelled to introduce myself now."

"But we've known you for years," Harry pointed out.

"Even so…" Ron said slowly.

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping in her seat, "Ron, you've got a quest."

Ron gave her an unimpressed look.

"A self-introduction is hardly an impressive feat, Hermione."

"Nevermind that. Quickly, introduce yourself."

Ron rolled his eyes, but spoke anyway.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

Pop!

"Ahh!" Ron screamed.

Suddenly, where he wasn't before, he was holding a single sheet of parchment.

"What is this?!" he cried.

"Ah ha!" Hermione said, a triumphant look on her face. "I think I know what that is. Read it out, Ron."

Ron was still wearing a bewildered expression, looking at the parchment that had appeared in his hand, but nodded at Hermione anyway.

"It says:

Ron Weasley:

Physicality - four

Mentality - three

Magicality - three

Then it just lists a bunch of skills, which are all at one."

Hermione frowned as she listened to Ron. "And that's out of ten?"

"Out of seven, I think. It's not written there, but… I just have a feeling about it."

"Okay…" Hermione said slowly, "uhh, I guess I should try then. How do you do? I'm Hermione Granger."

Pop!

"Wow, that is strange," she said, studying the parchment in her hand.

"Hermione Granger:

Physicality - one

Mentality - six

Magicality - three."

Hermione frowned. "You know that's kind of rude."

"Six out of seven for mentality, whatever that means, isn't bad," Harry pointed out.

"Well, yeah," Hermione replied, "but a one for physicality?"

"You're not exactly wrestling trolls into submission, Hermione."

"Hmm," she said, looking down the page, "oh I get it. The skills are linked to these attributes. Flying is a physical skill, persuasion is a mental skill and transfiguration is a magical skill."

"So Ron will be twice as good at flying as you are?" Harry asked.

"But my flying skill is still at one," Ron said, "how do the attribute and skill numbers work together?"

"It'll need to be tested," Hermione said, "but they're probably added, or maybe multiplied, together somehow. Or maybe the attribute value limits how high you can take a type of skill?" She shook her head, "these are questions for later. Come on Harry, don't leave us waiting."

Harry raised his eyebrows at her. "I'm Harry," he said, but nothing happened, "Harry Potter?"

Pop!

Harry cleared his throat, after looking at the parchment that appeared in his hand.

"Harry Potter:

Physicality - two

Mentality - three

Magicality - five."

"We all have a total of ten," Hermione said. "I assume that's not a coincidence."

"Can we increase these scores?" Harry asked, "or the scores in our skills?"

"I'd assume so," Hermione said, "maybe if we practice a skill a lot, it'll go up?"

"Beats me," Ron said, looking at his sheet in confusion.

For the second time in a few minutes the door rattled. This time, however, when it opened, it wasn't Ron's brothers.

Draco Malfoy strutted through the door, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"They've been saying on the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment. Is it true?"

"Oh Merlin, I'd forgotten how much of a prat he looked like at eleven," Ron said.

Harry snorted, then looked at Malfoy, who was continuing to look around the compartment.

"Oh! He's waiting for me to answer him," Harry realised, "how does this conversation thing work again?"

"You should feel prompted to say certain things," Hermione supplied, "like a bunch of options for how to respond."

"Oh yeah, I can sense that now," Harry replied, "I can admit that I am Harry Potter, or I can lie."

Ron grinned. "Come on, Harry. Lie to the ferret. Have him go up and down the train looking for you."

Harry grinned back at Ron, "good idea." He turned to Malfoy, "nope, no Harry Potter here."

Malfoy suddenly jolted back into action, a scowl appearing on his face.

"Think you can make a mockery of me, do you? Crabbe, Goyle! Show them what happens when you insult a member of the Malfoy family with such a feeble attempt at lying."

"Oh, you just had to do it, didn't you," Hermione said, "you couldn't have just admitted the truth. You had to get us into a fight before we even got to Hogwarts."

"I don't understand," Harry said, brow creased in confusion, "how did he know that I was lying?"

"Maybe because your persuasion skill is at ONE!" Hermione cried in exasperation.

"Oh yeah. My bad," Harry said, "wait. Why aren't they doing anything?"

Indeed, Crabbe and Goyle were just waiting by the door, glaring at them angrily.

"Oh!" Ron exclaimed, "it's my turn."

"It's turn-based combat?" Hermione asked incredulously, "how… unrealistic."

"Hermione, what struck you as realistic about any of this?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged, while Ron looked confused.

"What do I do? I can do seven things."

"Seven things?" Hermione asked, perplexed.

"Yeah, once I do seven things, my turn is over, I think."

"Another feeling?" Harry queried.

"Yeah, I guess I'll try…" Ron stood up and drew his wand, pointing it at the two brutes.

"Oh, only five left now."

"What?!" Hermione said.

"Yeah, I guess standing up?"

"And maybe drawing your wand," Harry suggested.

"Try a spell," Hermione demanded.

"Okay. Here goes… stupefy!"

Ron pointed his wand in a practised motion, but nothing came out of it.

"Huh," Hermione said, "I guess you don't know that spell."

Ron looked insulted. "Hermione, I've known that spell for years."

"I mean, your character doesn't. Ron Weasley, the eleven year old, doesn't know how to throw Stunning Charms around. Try a first-year spell."

Ron frowned at his wand, "locomotor wibbly!"

Again, nothing happened.

"Throw your shoe at him," Harry suggested, but the other two ignored him.

"Maybe we have to actually go to lessons first before we can cast any spells," Hermione suggested.

"No, I feel that I could have cast it, but that five 'things', left, isn't enough."

"Call them action points," Hermione said.

"Five action points isn't enough for the Jelly-Legs Jinx?" Harry said, "isn't that a bit much? Standing up took one action point, does a first-year jinx take more than five times as long?"

"Maybe it's not just time, but the effort involved," Hermione said.

"I guess I'll just… do nothing?" Ron said in confusion. "Can I even do that?"

But even as he was speaking, Crabbe grunted and started to move. He walked up to Ron, pulled his arm back and punched him, right in the solar plexus.

"Ow!"

"You alright there, Ron?" asked Harry.

"Ow! No! He hit me!"

"He's only eleven."

"So am I!"

"Have you lost H.P., Ron?" Hermione asked.

"I don't even know what 'aitchpea' is!"

"It stands for health points," Hermione clarified, "like a number out of a hundred or something."

"No," Ron said, scratching his head and looking at his parchment again, "all the same numbers as before."

Hermione hummed. "But you feel hurt, right?"

"Hermione, I've just been punched by the half-troll of Slytherin," Ron said angrily, "yes, I'm hurt!"

"Technically, he's not in Slytherin yet," Harry added unhelpfully.

"Maybe we can test it," Hermione said, rubbing her chin, "find out how many hits Ron can take before falling unconscious."

"No we cannot! Whose turn is it, anyway?"

"Oh, it's mine," said Harry, "maybe if I don't waste a point standing up, I can get a spell off with six action points."

"It's worth a try," Hermione said.

Harry drew his wand carefully from his pocket, pointed it at Crabbe and said "locomotor Wibbly".

A blue bolt shot from his wand and hit Crabbe in the chest, who immediately fell to the floor, the muscles in his legs having lost all their strength.

"Nice one Harry," Ron said, still rubbing his stomach.

"Hey, I've still got one action point left," said Harry.

"Hey, that's not fair," Ron said, affronted, "how come Harry can cast jinxes for five points, but I can't?"

Harry shrugged while smiling, but Hermione looked thoughtful.

"Maybe because Harry's magicality score is higher. It makes spells cheaper?"

"Whatever the case may be, I'll use my last action point…"

"A.P.," Hermione interrupted.

"My last A.P. to… stand up?" Harry stood up slowly, watching to see what Goyle or Malfoy would do next.

A moment after Harry had finished his movement, Goyle cried out "Vincent!" in response to Crabbe falling to the floor, then he rushed forward and swung his first into the side of Ron's head.

"Ow! Mother…"

"Ronald!" Hermione scolded, "you'd better watch your language around the first-years."

"But he just whacked me in the head!" Ron protested.

"That's no excuse," Hermione said primly, "think about what your mother would say."

"She'd probably say a whole lot worse if someone hit her in the head," Ron muttered.

"What was that?" Hermione said, looking sternly at Ron.

"Nothing."

"That's right."

"But why would he go for me anyway?" Ron said, "Harry's the one who jinxed Crabbe. So far all I've done is stand up and get punched."

"Maybe because you're closest," Harry suggested.

"Whatever," Ron said dejectedly, "your turn, right, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, seemingly considering her options, then stood up and walked behind Harry, so that she was furthest from the door.

"Hermione!" Ron cried, in outrage, "how about a little help!"

"You look like you've got it under control."

"No, I do not!"

Hermione drew her wand and looked at it.

"Four A.P. left, huh? Can't Jelly-Legs Goyle with that. Hmm… how about a charm? Oh, I know… Wingardium Leviosa."

Goyle's robes began fluttering and then were pulled over the top of his head by Hermione's spell, blinding him.

"Oh, nicely done, Hermione."

"Thanks, Harry," she replied brightly.

Next it was Malfoy's turn, who instead of drawing his wand, or walking further into their compartment, decided his best option was…

"The Weasleys are a disgrace to the name of wizards, my father likes to say."

"Was that it?!" Harry exclaimed, "that was useless!"

But apparently it was one injustice too many for Ron, who had two morons struggling in front of him, one prat behind them and a full supply of action points.

"Depulso!"

Goyle, still engulfed in his robes, was flung backwards into Malfoy and they both landed in the train corridor.

"Wow, that was harsh," Harry said.

"Yeah, they could have hit their heads," Hermione added.

"They did hit my head!"

"Whatever," Harry said, "Crabbe next, right?"

However, clearly their combined actions had been enough because Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy all scrambled to their feet and retreated down the train.

"My father will hear about this!" Malfoy shouted as he ran away.

"We won! Yay," said Harry, raising his arms in victory.

"I can't believe you got us into a fight before we even crossed the Scottish border," Hermione said.

"I can," Ron said, massaging the side of his head, "it happened the first time too."

"Wait, the first time? You did get into a fight back in first-year!" Hermione said, outraged.

"Yeah, but that time Scabbers bit them," Harry said.

"Oh bugger. Scabbers!" Ron said, looking at the cage on top of his trunk.

Hermione and Harry looked at it too.

"Oh bugger," they both said.

They elected, for the moment, to let sleeping rats lie. Hermione hypothesised that the game wouldn't let Wormtail be revealed until the appropriate moment in the story, but even so, they still had to placate Harry with the idea that they needed him alive to free Sirius.

"I'm still going to try and tell McGonagall," Harry said with determination.

"Which is a good idea," Hermione said placatingly, "just try not to get your hopes up. Remember, our conversation choices with the NPCs are limited."

Harry nodded in acceptance, but still crossed his arms and stared out the window for a while.

"Hermione," Ron said, "what happens if I add points to a skill?"

Hermione made a confused expression. "How do you plan on doing that?"

"I can add three skill points to my parchment," he replied.

"Call it a character sheet. And you can? Did we level up?" She asked, looking at her own sheet.

"I don't know what that means, I can just tell that I have three points to add to my skills. Should I add them all to 'jinxes, hexes and curses'?"

"No, wait!" Hermione cried, "don't do anything yet. We don't know if we can reallocate points spent, in the future. We need to think about party composition and build optimisation."

"Uhh…"

"Yeah, you lost me there too, Hermione," Harry said.

Hermione cleared her throat and adopted a lecturing pose. "It'll be more efficient if we specialise our roles. If, for example, we all focus on combat, then we will really struggle during any non-combat challenges. Likewise, if we try to be jacks-of-all-trades, then a particularly tough challenge may stump us. Instead we should each specialise in different things. A fighter, a healer and a… something else, creature trainer, thief, something like that."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, "what should we pick then?"

"First of all, let's list all of our options," Hermione said, "the physical skills first."

"Err," said Ron, "brawling, flying, sneaking and toughness."

"Uh huh," Hermione said, making notes on a piece of spare parchment, "and the mental skills are enchanting, leadership, persuasion, potions and occlumency."

"The magical skills are general charms, healing charms, jinxes, hexes and curses. Those three are all one skill," he clarified to Hermione.

"J.H. and C, okay," she said, marking it down.

"And shielding charms and transfiguration," he finished.

"Okay," said Hermione, finishing her note taking, "let's make a party."

"Someone should focus on fighting, you said," Harry looked at Hermione.

"And that should be you, Harry. With all the misadventures that you get up to alone. Plus, your high magicality score may be boosting your spell work."

"In that case, you should take the mentality skills, Hermione," Ron argued.

"So, potions, enchanting and… persuasion?" she said, uncertainly.

"Which leaves me with the physical skills," Ron said.

"Well, we can and should take skills from all over. We should all eventually put points into jinxes, hexes and curses, as well as shielding charms, general charms and toughness," She looked at Ron scrutinizingly. "Healing charms," she declared.

"Huh, okay," Ron said, "that makes sense. So I'll take healing charms, shielding charms, and… toughness," he rubbed the side of his head.

"I'll take general charms, J.H.C., and… sneaking," Harry said.

Hermione nodded approvingly, "and like I said, I'll take persuasion, potions and enchanting. If I can make potions and enchanted equipment for everyone, that'll be really helpful in the long run."

They all watched as their character sheets updated themselves, then suddenly the whistle sounded and they had arrived.

AN: Welcome!

Stories in which characters are stuck in a game are something of a guilty pleasure for me and for many others. That being said, I think that there are a number of pitfalls that authors will stumble into. In this story and in these notes, I'm going to try and explain what I see as these problems, and how this story tries to avoid them.

The first of these is having the main character be by themselves. For one, it limits the kind of conversations that the MC can have and more importantly, the kind of relationships that the character can have. Plus, having Harry, Ron and Hermione work together gives way more opportunities for good stories.

Please enjoy and leave comments!