The flash dazzled his eyes as it went off with a loud 'pop'. Harry screwed them shut, his elbows jostled by the people hurrying through the gate. The wizened old guard sat beside it on a stool was watching him acutely. Surrounded as Harry was by both muggle parents with wizarding children and those of the wizarding world, all staring at him curiously, he felt distinctly uncomfortable. The reporter-witch's long, magenta fingernails curled around her acid-green quill, and she smiled at him widely, her lipstick matching the glossy nail polish.
"A quote, Harry?" she asked, sweetly, "For our readers, you know. Going to Hogwarts for the first time, being the Minister for Magic's son, and unaccompanied.." she trailed off, her eyes sharp in contrast with her toothy grin. Harry shook his head, and stepped away, blinking to try and clear the spots from his vision.
The train was large, and children, dressed in muggle clothes and robes, were everywhere. Beside him, a plump girl embraced her mother and father, both smiling tearfully. "I'll see you at Christmas," she promised; her long plait swung as she boarded the train. Harry stepped to one side, feeling awkward, and out of place.
His school robes were neatly folded in his trunk, being dragged by Moppy a couple of feet behind him, along with his school books. His wand, however, was tucked inside the pocket of his heavy silk robes, the same steely grey that his father had worn this morning. He'd hoped, with a little piece of his heart that his father would relent, and come to the station to see him off, but the plans hadn't changed. Just as the sun rose, Tom had been up, and dressed, and left, on Ministry business. Harry had seen him go, heard his father wish him good luck, and smiled and waved. Still, as much as he knew that his father was unlike other fathers, taking care of the country, he still wished he could be standing beside him today.
He blinked rapidly; as he looked about himself again, there were more people crowded onto the platform, doors slamming on carriages. A family only a few steps away from him were exchanging last words. He could catch them if he listened hard enough over the clamour of the station.
"Ron, there's a smut on your nose," the short, bossy but motherly-looking woman informed one of the boys lovingly. Tall and gangly, red-haired, and covered in freckles, there was a veritable crowd of their own on the bit of platform. The youngest by the looks of things moaned, and ducked away from her.
"Leave off, Mum," he complained. "I can do it." An identical pair nudged one another, by the looks of it they were a couple of years older.
"Aww. Ickle Ronnikins has a dirty nose," one cooed, in an approximation of the woman's voice. They broke into laughter. The woman rounded on them."George, Fred, if I hear one word from school that you've done something this time," she snapped, sounding very sharp now, "If I have to come up to school having heard that you've.... Blown something up, or turned the ghosts pink or something-"
"We've never done that!" the boy on the left protested indignantly. He exchanged a grin with his twin, and a sly nod, "S'good idea, though."
"Fred and George Weasley, you will behave yourselves!" the woman shouted. Harry shook his head, grinning at the little interplay of family and climbed into the train.
He wove his way through the carriages, passing groups of boys and girls already settling down with games of Exploding Snap and Gobstones, all who looked up interestedly as he passed. He looked down hurriedly, staring at the red carpet, and moved on, looking for somewhere empty.
The train moved off from the station, pulling smoothly away from the platform. There was an immediate scramble for the windows, as people piled up to wave goodbye. Harry carried on looking for an empty compartment.
As he crossed through the fifth carriage, he found one that was empty except for one other. It was the red headed boy from the platform, sitting looking out the window at the countryside going past. Harry cleared his throat, nervously.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. The boy looked up, and his eyes widened with shock, but he nodded.
"Sure! There's plenty of room," he pushed a bag off the seat opposite him, to make room. Harry sat down gingerly, pulling his robes around him. The other boy stuck out a hand.
"Ron Weasley," he said confidently, and then blushed underneath his freckles. "It's Ronald really," he muttered, "But I'm Ron." Harry took Ron's hand, and shook it.
"Harry," he answered, sorting himself out. "I'm Harry Riddle." Ron nodded; people generally knew.
"Yeah, my dad works at the Ministry, so I knew you would be here," he told him, airily. "You're going to be a first year, right?" Harry nodded. "Me too," Ron said, grinning. "Only everyone in my family's at Hogwarts, or left. There's Bill, he's the eldest, and he's a curse-breaker for Gringotts, in Romania. Then there's Charlie, he's next, and then Percy. He's a prefect," Ron rolled his eyes expressively. "And then Fred and George. They're twins. And now me. Ginny, my little sister, she's the only girl in our family." He grinned broadly again, his freckled face open, and friendly. "She'll be coming next year."
"Want to play Snap?" Harry asked, smiling back at the other boy. Ron seemed friendly, and he was another first year. Ron pulled a pack of cards from his pocket, and dealt them.
An hour or so passed, and the compartment door slid back. The boy from the robe shop, and two others, who looked like thugs standing either side of him, were in the doorway.
"Oh, hello Riddle," Draco Malfoy drawled, lazily. "I was looking for you earlier." His cool grey eyes flicked over Ron, and the half-finished game of snap. "Do you want to come down the train and meet my friends?" He looked at Ron again, coldly. "If you're going to be in Slytherin, you'd be better off away from people like this. Red hair, freckles, you must be a Weasley," he said, disgustedly, to Ron. He glanced at Harry. "They're really not our sort, Riddle. The Weasleys might be an older family, but even that doesn't exclude the riff-raff."
Harry looked at Ron. A slow, burning red glowed in his cheeks, anger as the boy stared at Malfoy. "Shut up, Malfoy," Ron snapped furiously. "At least my father doesn't side with the Dark Lord!"
Harry frowned, looking at Malfoy. A gleam of interest had sparked in the shorter, blonde's eyes.
"Come on, Riddle," Draco said impatiently, offering his hand to Harry. Harry hesitated. Ron hadn't seemed bad, he'd been friendly, and his family were nice, whatever the blond said. But.. Draco is a well placed friend to make. Slowly, his eyes fixed on Draco's, he placed his own hand in the other boy's. Draco smiled with satisfaction.
"Excellent. Come along," he said imperiously, giving Harry barely enough time to gather up his things and smile apologetically at Ron, who wouldn't look at him, before they followed the length of the train to the very back.
The group sitting in the last carriage were already wearing their school robes. They looked up as he and Draco entered, followed by the two Draco had introduced as Crabbe, and Goyle.
Three girls and two boys were already there, trunks piled neatly in a corner of the carriage, a wizarding chess set in front of them. Draco paused, and cleared his throat. They swung around.
"This is Pansy," Draco pointed to a small, dark girl, with a pinched looking face that looked a bit like a pug. She had a rather unfortunate nose. "Millicent," the next girl, who looked sitting down, to be taller than Harry was, and stocky. She had a thick face, but curious, and intelligent looking eyes. "Daphne," a slim and pretty, if a bit vain, blond girl, whose hair was carefully arranged over her shoulders. She smiled at Harry, her lips curving.
"This is Theodore Nott," Draco indicated a serious looking boy, with gawky limbs and a set of expensive looking robes, "And Blaise Zabini." The other boy, who had fairish hair, and grinned at Draco slyly.
"Do sit down, Harry," Draco indicated a seat beside him. "We're the best of the wizarding world this year at Hogwarts," he said, and as he sat, he leant forward and looked across at them, his gaze intent. "We're of the best families, we have the most money, and power, and it's down to us," he said grimly, "To make sure it stays that way."
"Welcome to Hogwarts," Theodore Nott offered, in a half-mocking way.
A/N: Hee. And it starts to heat up. Next chapter, Harry and company hang out on the train, and Hermione enters looking for Neville's toad. Also, the Sorting, and the Feast. Do tell me where you would like Harry to go, House-wise, I can't promise I'll –listen- to you, but I will be amused by the different ideas. I have my own, don't fear!
Those mentioned are taken from the HP Lexicon – Daphne Greengrass, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bulstrode.
Coming up soon – Lessons, learning to fly, meetings with people, a talk to Dumbledore, and discoveries.
Also, if you like my 'The Heir of Voldemort', try 'To Thine Own Self Be True', a study of Sirius, Regulus and Bellatrix Black, in the Marauders' Sixth Year.