Disclaimer: I don't own any of Harry Potter characters, they are JK Rowling's, hers and hers alone, I'm only borrowing. The hobbit and elves portrayed in this story are fashioned after those in The Lord of The Rings, The Hobbit and The Silmarillion by JRR Tolkien.
HARRY POTTER AND THE LAST OF THE FIRSTBORNS
Chapter 3
OLD ACQUAINTANCES
"AND then he said, 'I have no time for silly games like Quidditch, sir.'"
"The cheek! What right he has speaking like that to Dumbledore."
"Well, you know he never does fancy Dumbledore ever since he gave you the perfect score in Transfiguration last year."
"I thought so too. I guess he would never forgive Dumbledore for that."
"I don't know what makes him think he had earned full marks with his stupid squirrel still having a turkey's beak."
"Well, I must admit I had it easy back then. Anyone can transfigure an armadillo into porcupine. It's child stuff, really, compared to turkey to squirrel transfiguration"
"Don't, James. I can't stand it when you try to sound modest with a smug face like that."
"Yeah, James. You make me sick. Honest."
Strange voices drifted into Harry's mind. He could hear noises, trolley wheels creaking, porters heaving trunks, owls hooting. Harry felt dull and stupid and tired. His brain seemed to work extra slow. He thought the voices sounded odd.
He opened his eyes very slowly. There was a piercing sound of whistle. The three figures by the door rushed to the window, narrowly missing Harry's feet, and waved frantically.
"Bye, Mum! Bye, Dad!"
"Take care, Remus!"
"You write to me, Sirius! You hear?"
"I don't want to hear any silly behaviour, James. Remember, this is your fifth year."
"Don't worry, Dad. Love you, Mum. Good-bye, good-bye…"
Harry watched their backs with growing panic.
Remus? Sirius? James? They couldn't have been…
Harry shrank to the corner.
Where am I, he thought in horror. These kids, they can't be my dad and his friends. Something must've gone wrong… I must be dreaming…
The three turned away from the window and Harry gasped.
One of them was a tall, thin boy with very ruffled hair and bright blue eyes behind a pair of glasses. Beside him was a tall, well-built boy with dark hair and eyes set in a good-looking face that resembled…Sirius? The last one was a thin boy, not as tall as his friends and looking rather pale, with dark hair and eyes and a smile that is unmistakably Lupin's.
Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes and looked once again. The three boys were already emptying their pockets and made ready to play Exploding Snap. They looked very real, very alive, there was no way they were merely figures in a troubled dream.
But if Harry was there, in Hogwarts Express some fifteen years before he had been born, then… The thought chilled him. What if I couldn't go back? he thought in panic. Never see Ron and Hermione again, never play Quidditch for Gryffindor again… Harry felt a huge lump of pain stuck in his throat, making him choke and unable to breathe.
The door slid open and short, fat boy poked his head in.
"Hi," he said to the three boys inside, a huge grin in his chubby face. "I thought I might find you here. Lily's looking for you, James."
James frowned. "What for?" he said a little grumpily.
"She said you ought to be sitting up front with the other Prefects," the fat boy smiled.
James groaned while his two friends nudged him and laughed teasingly. "Tell him I prefer to sit here, Peter. This way when Sirius broke a rule, I'd be sure to find out."
Peter laughed, "You tell her yourself, James. I'm not allowed in the Prefects' carriage."
He stepped in to join his friends.
And tripped over Harry's leg.
Peter fell heavily onto his friends' feet, causing a shower of sweets and cards as everybody suddenly stood up yelling, "Watch it, you klutz! Look where you're going!"
Peter rolled over and sat up, brushing toffee wrapper from his hair. "What did I trip over?" he asked, looking toward the door.
"Your bootlaces, I bet," said Sirius acidly. And everyone looked at Peter's boots. The laces were neatly done.
"Don't mind it, Peter," said James, pulling Peter to his feet. "Let's play Exploding Snap."
Just then Hedwig hooted, very loudly. She was probably tired of being cooped up in the hot, stuffy cage under Harry's cloak.
The four boys jumped. Peter turned pale.
"An owl," said James. "Here?"
"Do you think it's a ghost, Remus?" asked Peter in a trembling voice.
"I don't think so," said Remus. "We would've seen it if it is. Like the ghosts at school."
James and Sirius stood up. They seemed scared, but also very curious.
At that moment Harry's stomach growled. It was a deep growl, a huge rumble. Harry felt himself go red despite the Cloak.
James and Sirius stepped back in alarm. "What was that?"
They turned when they heard Remus chuckled. "It's stomach," he said.
"What?" said Sirius. "An owl's stomach. You're kidding."
"No, our stomach," replied Remus. "That's the way it sounds when you're really hungry."
"A starving ghost, eh?" said Sirius.
"Who are you?" James said, facing the door. "Show yourself."
Harry frantically tried to think of a way to get out of the awkward situation.
His stomach grumbled again, harder then before.
James and Sirius looked at each other. Though they still looked very much surprised, they were trying not to smile. They did not seem like the sort who would do him much harm. It was not Malfoy or Crabbe or Goyle. And after all, it was only Harry's father and his best friends, although they looked a lot more like kids than some grown ups Harry could turn to for help.
But what about Dumbledore's warning more than a year ago, when Harry and Hermione were using the Time Turner to save Sirius? You should never mess around with the past.
But there was simply no other way out of it. The stomach growl (which was heard for the third embarrassing time) and Hedwig's annoyed hoot had messed around with the past whether Harry wanted it or not.
He pulled back his hood.