Chapter 2 – The Train Ride
September 1
Harry winced as a few of the wounds on his back opened as his uncle pushed him and his supplies of the car. He dismissed the pain as inconsequential since it was nothing compared to the amounts he was usually in.
As his Uncle sped away Harry walked over and retrieved a trolley to make carrying around his heavy trunk and Hedwig's cage a little easier. Walking into Kings Cross station Harry pulled his ticket and looked between it and the signs overhead a confused look briefly crossing his features.
Glancing back down at the ticket he thought to himself Platform 9 ¾? Where the hell would Platform 9 ¾ be? Okay, there is platform 9, and there is platform 10, but there's definitely no goddamn platform 9 ¾!
Trying to stop the rant in his head he examined the people around him in the train station, none of them looked distinctly magical, and he was already getting strange looks from the people for Hedwig and the way he was dressed.
He shrugged off the looks, he had learned a long time ago how to work a needle and thread, so if he had time he would rip apart the hand-me-downs that he got and sew them into something actually wearable.
His clothes may not fit the normal standard but he liked them, and thought they suited him well. He was wearing a pair of black baggy jeans, a close fitting emerald t-shirt with silver accents, underneath a large black jacket and over a pair of black workman boots.
Somehow over the past weeks his hair had grown at an astonishing rate and now reached down below his shoulders, just brushing his mid-back.
He currently had that pulled back in a loose ponytail with a black headband underneath his messy bangs hiding the scar that he had recently learned was quite famous.
The only thing that didn't really fit in with the rest of his appearance was the pair of glasses on his face, but somehow the heavy black frames managed to work with his clothes.
As Harry contemplated his situation he heard someone behind him use the term Muggles. Spinning around Harry caught sight of a fiery red haired woman surrounded by five children, obviously all hers by the equally bright mops of hair that adorned each of them.
There were four boys, each with a trolley and one girl without one; Harry had to blink before he indeed confirm that yes there were two carbon copies of each with their own trolley.
His eyes were then immediately drawn to a boy about his own age wearing clothes very similar to his own except for the fact the shirt was silver with red trim, and he wasn't wearing a headband. He was also very pale, much like Harry, and it only seemed to make his vibrant hair burn against his forehead.
Leaning back Harry watched the oldest of the four walk quickly towards a seemingly solid pillar between platforms 9 and 10. Harry blinked when he disappeared into the pillar, most definitely not a normal thing.
He watched more closely as the rest of the family followed suit, walking swiftly towards the pillar and disappearing into it. Harry just shook his head, he should have known it would be something like that, it was magic after all.
Closing his eyes so he wouldn't be tempted to screech to halt Harry walked towards the pillar he had just seen people disappear through; surprised when he didn't smack head first into a solid surface.
Opening his eyes Harry surveyed where he had ended up, right above him a sign hung declaring this to be platform 9 ¾. The platform was full of people; parents, students, everyone hurrying to get on a long gleaming train with a wooden plaque proclaiming it to be the Hogwarts Express.
Quickly grabbing his trunk and Hedwig's cage he climbed onto the train, quickly searching for an empty compartment; it took awhile but he soon found one in the last compartment of the train.
Claiming it as his Harry dumped his trunk down and carefully set down the cage as not to disturb Hedwig's slumber underneath the piece of fabric over her cage. Harry gently settled himself next to the window, paying special attention not to tear open any of the wounds on his body. Looking out the window Harry prepared himself down for a long ride.
Harry was startled out of his near dozing state when the door his compartment was opened. Scowling Harry turned to see who had intruded upon the solitude he had tried so hard to get. Immediately he recognized the pale boy with the freckles, the dark fiery red hair that seemed to burn against his skin, and the deep eyes that seemed to contain countless shadows.
Ron relaxed as he entered the compartment and observed the only other person occupying it. The boy had a dark scowl, ebony black hair pulled back much like Ron's own was now that he had finally grown it out, and startling clear green eyes that showed to much knowledge for a boy of his age. However he was also smaller then Ron was so he didn't feel at all threatened by him. "Is there anyone else sitting in here?"
Harry shook his head sizing up the boy in front of him as he took a seat across from him; once Ron had sat down the two regarded each other with suspicious looks until their magic touched. Two abused souls recognized each other and a trust to be built upon was born.
Ron stuck out his hand appraising Harry as he introduced himself, "Ron Weasley."
Harry carefully took his hand and with a small smirk introduced himself, "Harry Potter, and the name doesn't suit you at all."
Looking slightly shell shocked Ron recovered quickly and replied with a dark smirk of his own, "Well, I'm sharing a compartment with the famous Harry Potter, fate really is a bitch. Can I see the scar?"
Harry sighed realizing he was probably going to hear that a lot after people figured out who he was; quickly untying the black headband revealing the lightning bolt shape that decorated his forehead, "Satisfied, Mr. Weasley?" Harry commented sarcastically as he watched Ron's reaction.
"Bloody hell, it is shaped just like a lightning bolt! Now if my name is unsuitable yours is too damn famous, I'm thinking, new ones?" Ron leaned back against the fabric and the two boys shared a small twist of their lips, not quite a smile, but not really a scowl either. It was more then either had done in a long time.
Harry replied with an equally twisted smirk, "Obviously." Starting a slow appraisal of the boy across from him he spoke again, "Burn, because of the way your hair fires across your skin, and the temper I can see boiling in you."
Running a hand through the long hair on his head he shot back a reply, "Bolt, that scar is an excellent reflection for someone with a personality as deadly as a bolt of lightening."
With a short bark of dark laughter Harry withdrew a book from his trunk, Most Potente Potions, "Bolt & Burn? Very dark, and utterly bloody perfect."
Seeing what Harry was doing Ron reached into his trunk as well removing the Transfiguration text he had been studying earlier. When Harry saw what he was removing he had an idea, "Burn, I bet if we taught eachother what we already know we would be ahead of the rest of the first-years, don't you agree?"
"Hmmm, excellent idea, though I can't understand how you could possibly find Potions interesting. The Professor is a greasy git who hates all Gryffindors."
"So that's the house you think you'll be sorted into Burn, hmmmmm interesting."
Ron shrugged, "My entire family has been in Gryffindor, it would be really weird if I got sorted into a different house, my family would probably all die of shock. Where do you think you'll end up?"
"I'd rather not say right now, I'll wait and see what the Sorting says before I think about it, I honestly don't care horribly much about the house, all I want is the power."
Ron nodded, "You too? That's what I think to, the house doesn't really matter though I hope we are in the same house since the goddamn inner house rivalries are so vicious; it would be hard to keep a friendship."
"Ah we're friends then, good. Shut up and study now; we've wasted enough time with our little chat."
"You've read my mind Bolt."
September 1
Harry winced as a few of the wounds on his back opened as his uncle pushed him and his supplies of the car. He dismissed the pain as inconsequential since it was nothing compared to the amounts he was usually in.
As his Uncle sped away Harry walked over and retrieved a trolley to make carrying around his heavy trunk and Hedwig's cage a little easier. Walking into Kings Cross station Harry pulled his ticket and looked between it and the signs overhead a confused look briefly crossing his features.
Glancing back down at the ticket he thought to himself Platform 9 ¾? Where the hell would Platform 9 ¾ be? Okay, there is platform 9, and there is platform 10, but there's definitely no goddamn platform 9 ¾!
Trying to stop the rant in his head he examined the people around him in the train station, none of them looked distinctly magical, and he was already getting strange looks from the people for Hedwig and the way he was dressed.
He shrugged off the looks, he had learned a long time ago how to work a needle and thread, so if he had time he would rip apart the hand-me-downs that he got and sew them into something actually wearable.
His clothes may not fit the normal standard but he liked them, and thought they suited him well. He was wearing a pair of black baggy jeans, a close fitting emerald t-shirt with silver accents, underneath a large black jacket and over a pair of black workman boots.
Somehow over the past weeks his hair had grown at an astonishing rate and now reached down below his shoulders, just brushing his mid-back.
He currently had that pulled back in a loose ponytail with a black headband underneath his messy bangs hiding the scar that he had recently learned was quite famous.
The only thing that didn't really fit in with the rest of his appearance was the pair of glasses on his face, but somehow the heavy black frames managed to work with his clothes.
As Harry contemplated his situation he heard someone behind him use the term Muggles. Spinning around Harry caught sight of a fiery red haired woman surrounded by five children, obviously all hers by the equally bright mops of hair that adorned each of them.
There were four boys, each with a trolley and one girl without one; Harry had to blink before he indeed confirm that yes there were two carbon copies of each with their own trolley.
His eyes were then immediately drawn to a boy about his own age wearing clothes very similar to his own except for the fact the shirt was silver with red trim, and he wasn't wearing a headband. He was also very pale, much like Harry, and it only seemed to make his vibrant hair burn against his forehead.
Leaning back Harry watched the oldest of the four walk quickly towards a seemingly solid pillar between platforms 9 and 10. Harry blinked when he disappeared into the pillar, most definitely not a normal thing.
He watched more closely as the rest of the family followed suit, walking swiftly towards the pillar and disappearing into it. Harry just shook his head, he should have known it would be something like that, it was magic after all.
Closing his eyes so he wouldn't be tempted to screech to halt Harry walked towards the pillar he had just seen people disappear through; surprised when he didn't smack head first into a solid surface.
Opening his eyes Harry surveyed where he had ended up, right above him a sign hung declaring this to be platform 9 ¾. The platform was full of people; parents, students, everyone hurrying to get on a long gleaming train with a wooden plaque proclaiming it to be the Hogwarts Express.
Quickly grabbing his trunk and Hedwig's cage he climbed onto the train, quickly searching for an empty compartment; it took awhile but he soon found one in the last compartment of the train.
Claiming it as his Harry dumped his trunk down and carefully set down the cage as not to disturb Hedwig's slumber underneath the piece of fabric over her cage. Harry gently settled himself next to the window, paying special attention not to tear open any of the wounds on his body. Looking out the window Harry prepared himself down for a long ride.
Harry was startled out of his near dozing state when the door his compartment was opened. Scowling Harry turned to see who had intruded upon the solitude he had tried so hard to get. Immediately he recognized the pale boy with the freckles, the dark fiery red hair that seemed to burn against his skin, and the deep eyes that seemed to contain countless shadows.
Ron relaxed as he entered the compartment and observed the only other person occupying it. The boy had a dark scowl, ebony black hair pulled back much like Ron's own was now that he had finally grown it out, and startling clear green eyes that showed to much knowledge for a boy of his age. However he was also smaller then Ron was so he didn't feel at all threatened by him. "Is there anyone else sitting in here?"
Harry shook his head sizing up the boy in front of him as he took a seat across from him; once Ron had sat down the two regarded each other with suspicious looks until their magic touched. Two abused souls recognized each other and a trust to be built upon was born.
Ron stuck out his hand appraising Harry as he introduced himself, "Ron Weasley."
Harry carefully took his hand and with a small smirk introduced himself, "Harry Potter, and the name doesn't suit you at all."
Looking slightly shell shocked Ron recovered quickly and replied with a dark smirk of his own, "Well, I'm sharing a compartment with the famous Harry Potter, fate really is a bitch. Can I see the scar?"
Harry sighed realizing he was probably going to hear that a lot after people figured out who he was; quickly untying the black headband revealing the lightning bolt shape that decorated his forehead, "Satisfied, Mr. Weasley?" Harry commented sarcastically as he watched Ron's reaction.
"Bloody hell, it is shaped just like a lightning bolt! Now if my name is unsuitable yours is too damn famous, I'm thinking, new ones?" Ron leaned back against the fabric and the two boys shared a small twist of their lips, not quite a smile, but not really a scowl either. It was more then either had done in a long time.
Harry replied with an equally twisted smirk, "Obviously." Starting a slow appraisal of the boy across from him he spoke again, "Burn, because of the way your hair fires across your skin, and the temper I can see boiling in you."
Running a hand through the long hair on his head he shot back a reply, "Bolt, that scar is an excellent reflection for someone with a personality as deadly as a bolt of lightening."
With a short bark of dark laughter Harry withdrew a book from his trunk, Most Potente Potions, "Bolt & Burn? Very dark, and utterly bloody perfect."
Seeing what Harry was doing Ron reached into his trunk as well removing the Transfiguration text he had been studying earlier. When Harry saw what he was removing he had an idea, "Burn, I bet if we taught eachother what we already know we would be ahead of the rest of the first-years, don't you agree?"
"Hmmm, excellent idea, though I can't understand how you could possibly find Potions interesting. The Professor is a greasy git who hates all Gryffindors."
"So that's the house you think you'll be sorted into Burn, hmmmmm interesting."
Ron shrugged, "My entire family has been in Gryffindor, it would be really weird if I got sorted into a different house, my family would probably all die of shock. Where do you think you'll end up?"
"I'd rather not say right now, I'll wait and see what the Sorting says before I think about it, I honestly don't care horribly much about the house, all I want is the power."
Ron nodded, "You too? That's what I think to, the house doesn't really matter though I hope we are in the same house since the goddamn inner house rivalries are so vicious; it would be hard to keep a friendship."
"Ah we're friends then, good. Shut up and study now; we've wasted enough time with our little chat."
"You've read my mind Bolt."