Chapter one: The 1st Meeting
"Any more things that we need this year, Hermione-the-All-knowing?" scolded Ron, his freckled face stretched into a smile.
Hermione just sneered back at him and read aloud off of her supply list for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "'Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6' is all that I have left on my list that isn't scratched out, but I don't know about the two of you."
"'Scratched out?' Your list looks like it was originally gray!" exclaimed Ron, attempting another joke towards her.
"Are you finished or not?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm done."
"I'm finished; I just want to stop by Gringotts and get some coins," replied Harry, nodding in the direction of the large, marble Wizard Bank.
Once they had gotten the last of Hermione's supplies, and Harry's galleons, and arrived at the train station, it was 10:45—15 minutes before the train would leave. They were actually surprised they had made it so early, seeming as how for the last few years they had been very close to missing the train.
The three of them were able to rest their tired feet while the remaining passengers got to board slowly. They bought some snacks, shared them between each other, and chattered away about their summers. Harry had stayed with Ron and the other Weasleys' for the summer and away from the Dursleys'—his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and devil-cousin Dudley. This was to Harry's (and the Dursleys') great happiness. So, since he had been away from his relatives, his summer had been fairly good.
Harry glanced out the train's window now to behold a beautiful girl, no older than 16, looking about as if she'd lost something; she looked a little worried. She had deep green eyes with a mixture of fog-like gray; and her skin flawless like porcelain. Her shining, black hair flowed in waves to her shoulders and lingered in her
eyes. She was wearing a dress of black silk that dangled to her feet. Over it she wore a long-sleeved, low-cut silver cloak that clung together by four pins and hung, the rest
parted, little shorter than her dress.
She suddenly smiled and walked gracefully over to a large brass owl cage and knelt down beside it. Harry realized what it was that she had been looking for at once. The eagle owl inside the cage was the most beautiful owl he had ever seen since he had been to Hogwarts. Harry had a snowy owl himself, Hedwig, but this owl's temper seemed to be lower. This owl seemed to care about her feathers a lot more than temper or attitude; she kept fanning her spotted tail and ruffling her other spotted white, gray and brown feathers trying to perfectly straighten them into their rightful places on her large body.
The owl turned her large head toward the train and seemed to look straight into Harry's eyes, then it started to squawk and flap around like someone was attacking it. The girl looked towards the train, then smiled, apparently seeing Harry. She turned back to the owl, whispered something to it, and immediately she stopped squawking and restarted her ruffling like nothing had happened.
Harry, Ron and Hermione's compartment door opened. Hoping to death that Draco Malfoy wasn't the one entering, Harry was forced to look away. To Harry's great pleasure, it wasn't Malfoy, but actually two of Ron's older brothers, Fred and George, the twins.
Ron had 6 other siblings: older brothers Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, and younger sister Ginny. Charlie worked with dragons (currently in Transylavania), Bill with the Gringotts Bank, Percy and their dad with the Ministry of Magic. Ginny was in her third year at Hogwarts.
George looked out the window as he took a seat by Harry. "Oi! Fred, is that her?"
"Yup! That's her! She's a sight for sore eyes isn't she, George?" said Fred, smiling to the window.
"Who is that?" asked Ron, now gaping at the young girl.
Hermione scoffed. "She's probably just some loser—stuck-up—snob that'll be in Slytherin with that Malfoy creature!"
Harry turned to Hermione. "Hermione, wasn't it you who started that 'spew' club over the elves' "enslavement" two years ago? I wouldn't be judging right now if I were you."
This was a very true statement. Indeed, in their fourth year she had started an organization for the 100 or so house elves that worked within the kitchens of Hogwarts
called S.P.E.W. (Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare). It had failed miserably.
"First of all, It's S-P-E-W. Society for the Pro-" Hermione started, but was
interrupted by Fred.
"All right, all right, calm down! Hermione could be right. I heard on my way inside the train that she might end up in Slytherin, which is just the reason that we're in here—to warn you about that. Looks can be deceiving, you know. We'd better get off before we end up at Hogwarts again, and we don't want that," said Fred. "I mean, we liked it there and all, we just want to get to work on our "top secret" plans. Dad said he might help us!" They stood, smiled evilly at Ron (Fred stealing a chocolate frog from him) and Harry, then left, plotting together, sliding the compartment door behind them.
When Harry looked out the window again, the girl and the owl were both gone. Probably boarded the train, concluded Harry.
The train's whistle blew, and its engine growled. A few moments after, the train was moving along the track slowly. Harry looked out of the window; out at all of the jovial, smiling faces of those who were too young or too old to go to Hogwarts. He saw some mothers crying happy tears for their sons or daughters taking off into their first year at Hogwarts; he saw other people just jumping up and down, waving at the people on the smoky maroon train.
Then he saw Fred and George and their parents. Fred looked a little down, more so than he had 10 minutes ago, and George was seeming to have a calm, small argument with his mother. Harry turned to Ron. "Ron, what was the top secret thing that Fred mentioned?"
"Oh, that. They're trying to convince Mum that a joke shop is supposed to make people laugh, and that it's not there to do people harm. Basically, they're still trying to convince her to allow them to start one. Not much is changing her mind, though." Ron laughed and stuffed a chocolate frog into his mouth.
"What card did you get?" asked Hermione, looking at a 'Headmaster Dumbledore' she had gotten.
"Merlin."
Harry opened one himself. "These are better than normal. They added caramel! Yum. Hey…My card's blank!"
"He's probably just gone somewhere, you know, like they all do."
"No! I mean, my card is blank! There's nothing on it, not even a name!" He, Ron and Hermione stared blankly at the card, all contemplating on how there could be nothing but patterned color-that was usually the background-mixed with some deep gray and black. Harry stared long and hard at the card. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a stinging pain shot through his scar.
"Ouch, my scar!" He dropped the card, and placed his hand over his scar, retracting quickly from the stinging.
"Harry," hesitated Hermione, "Are you all right? What's your scar doing, hurting like that? You haven't had any troubles with it all summer."
"Yeah," agreed Ron, "It only hurts when You-Know-Who's around, right? And, this being the Hogwarts train, I don't think he'd be here, would he? I mean, someone would see him, wouldn't they?" He looked around then nervously tore off the paper lid to a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, poured some into his hand, and ate one. That took his mind off the subject for a brief moment. "Yuck! Weeds. So Harry, what do you think?"
Harry shook his head. The pain was gone now. "I don't know. Curious, though, that this card doesn't have anything on it." He picked up the blank card.
Hermione started, "The people who made it probably just forgot to place a wizard and his biography on it, and then put it in the wrong box or something. Probably just a mishap."
"I doubt it," interrupted Ron. "These people independently check each and every card about 6 times. I know; I read about it!"
"Well, There's got to be something, some logical explanation for it." Hermione nabbed some Bertie Botts from Ron, and popped one into her mouth, obviously aggravated.
"Did they ever make any cards for the 'bad' wizards, Ron?"
"Yes."
"What about Voldemort? Did they create any of him?"
Ron cringed. "Don't say the name! And I'm not sure; they may have, but I seriously doubt it. He wasn't 'bad,' he was evil!"
"I know that, Ron! And I'm sorry for saying the name. It just seems kind of childish-not saying the name and all. It's his name for a reason. Whatever. So you don't think they made any cards of him? My scar usually only hurts when he's near or plotting something; or it hurts when something that's his is right in front of me. It hasn't hurt all summer long." Harry took a box of Bertie Botts' Beans and opened them. "I just want to figure all this out, that's all." He sat back in his seat and dumped a handful of multicolored beans into his mouth.
"Harry, I think I just saw a dung flavored one pop out. Careful," warned Hermione.
Harry cringed. "Okay," he squeaked.
Ron laughed. "How unlucky is that? First you get a blank card, then a dung flavored bean. What's next? Total interaction with Snape half way to Hogwarts?" He shuddered.
"Hey!" popped Hermione. "Maybe that's the teacher Fred was talking about! I mean, okay, so he has a pretty good reputation with the teachers, I think, but his
reputation with the students is…well…not so great."
"What are you saying? That that girl is Snape's daughter? Ha! She's too pretty, just too pretty! She's more likely to be a veela than Snape's daughter!" squealed Ron.
"I don't know, Ron. Hermione may be right. She did have close to the same hair as him, anyway."
"Harry, please! Her hair was fine and shiny, not gooey and greasy like Snape's! I have my opinion; Hermione has—"
"Shh! Listen!" hissed Hermione.
"Crabbe! Keep up! You're big enough! Just shove them out of the way! Why do I have to get stuck with these two?" came a familiar voice all three of them were hoping they wouldn't hear all through the train ride. Draco Malfoy.
Draco's minions, Crabbe and Goyle, followed him almost everywhere; according to Harry, Ron and Hermione, they were his brainless bodyguards.
Goyle's voice grumbled in answer to Malfoy's rhetorical question, "I guess you're just lucky…I guess."
Harry would have laughed at the snort that came from Malfoy right outside their compartment door, if it hadn't opened to reveal Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" sneered Malfoy. "It's Potter, and his little maggots."
Ron's owl, Pigwigeon, woke up in his cage as Malfoy slammed the compartment door and started squeak-squawking at the top of his lungs. Harry heard several voices from nearby compartments hush down. Occasionally, he caught the word "Owl" from some on-listener.
"Can it, Malfoy! We don't need your ignorance in this train anymore," snarled Ron.
"Weasley; you're too poor to talk. I'm surprised that your family can afford your pathetic twin brothers who waste so much money trying to pull those attempted pranks! Not to mention that owl! How do you sleep at night with that little devil squeaking his throat dry like that?" Malfoy grabbed the small cage and rattled it loudly. Ron pushed him away from the cage and into the door, steadied the cage before it fell off of the seat, and then took a new seat by his owl. He glared at Malfoy with an expression that looked as if he had just swallowed a bite of maggot-covered spaghetti.
Malfoy laughed at Ron. "You should keep that look, Weasley! It looks absolutely great on your poor pathetic face!" Goyle and Crabbe burst out into laughter.
"Fred and George alone are better at pranks than you! All you do is go prancing around making fun of people! Doing that is not pulling a prank!" snarled Hermione at an attempted comeback towards him.
"Yes, mudblood. I love my job. Oh, and say 'hi' to the muggles for me okay?" Goyle thought this retort was very funny. Crabbe was laughing so hard now that it seemed he wasn't breathing until he started coughing.
"Crabbe! Breathe in, breathe out. Okay? Learn how to breathe, at the least. I can't afford you to die from laughter. Then again, I could frame Potter. No. The mudblood teachers' pet would probably tell one of her 'masters' and get me into trouble."
"Malfoy. First of all, shut up. Second, what do you want, anyways?" demanded Harry.
"'What do I want?' Absolutely nothing but to destroy your lives."
"Oh, sack it," spat Ron, "and go join the Death Eaters!"
"I wish." Malfoy almost sounded dead serious as he made a grab at one of Harry's chocolate frogs, but Hermione slapped his hand away. A move he didn't expect.
"Go scrounge down a garbage can and find your own money to pay for candy, instead of snatching someone else's, Malfoy."
"She does play sarcasm. Who would have known?" Again, Goyle and Crabbe laughed, and, again, he reached for a chocolate frog.
He was stopped this time by a prefect entering the compartment. "Better get your robes on; we're not far from the castle." He smiled and left as quickly as he had come.
"Oh well. I don't think I will have any; the stuff might make me fat." He sneered at Harry. "I'll be back, Potter. Don't you worry."
"Trust me; I won't."
"Crabbe! Goyle! Let's go, now. Before I get intoxicated by the air of the 'Potter fan club!'" Crabbe and Goyle each rammed one fist into the opposite hand and left, grinning stupidly, right behind Malfoy.
"I hate him! I wouldn't be surprised if he was planning on starting the Death Eaters again; it suits him so much," Hermione exploded in what sounded like one very fast sentence after they had changed their robes and were sitting once more.
"Hermione! Calm yourself. I've never seen you get so angry over a waste like Malfoy. What's got into you?" questioned Ron. Harry just looked out of the window at the scenery blurring by and listened, half thinking about the wizard card he had gotten.
"I decided on the train at the end of last year that I wasn't going to just let Malfoy slip by sneering insults at us anymore. And I'm going to live up to that…I hope."
"You know, I like your idea, but you insulting him is just doing the same thing that he's doing to us. It's just going to make him jealous and make him insult us even more," stated Harry, now turning to them. "Try doing that a different way, instead of being a female version of Malfoy, okay?"
"Yeah, Hermione; Harry's got a point. Giving a person a taste of his own medicine just doesn't work. Ugh! Pig! Will you ever shut up? I think that he was right
about Pig, though. He is just a little squeak, isn't he?" Ron asked kind of sadly while he stuffed another slightly bigger piece of owl feed into his owl's mouth. Pigwigeon stopped squawking immediately and chewed as fast as he could.
"No, Ron. I don't think Pigwigeon does that just for the sake of being able to," Hermione tried to sound convincing. "I think that he just does that because he knows how malicious Malfoy is."
Hermione suddenly started laughing. Harry stared at her and Ron jumped. "Know what?" she asked them, taking a breath. "We said it would be double-bad luck if we ran into Snape in the middle of the train ride. Who do we run into at the end? Malfoy—The second worst person to encounter."
"You're right." Ron grabbed another box of Bertie's beans, then tossed them down back where they had been. Then, looking out the window, "We're here."