Chapter 4: Friends and Enemies

As the Hogwarts Express rumbled and slowed to a stop Jonathan felt the apprehensive, queasy feeling of fear returning to the pit of his stomach. What if he didn't like school? What if he wasn't smart enough to pass his classes? What if he turned out to be a squib? What if…

His thoughts were interrupted by a young man walking up and down the cars calling out, "Welcome to Hogwarts! Everyone off the train please," in a cheerful, pleasant voice. The young man stopped in front of Jonathan and Lucie's compartment when he noticed the boy struggling to get his book bag down from the luggage rack over head, which he was just a hair too small to reach.

"Need a hand," the young man asked smiling.

"Yes, please," Jonathan said shyly.

"Here you are… err… what's your name son," the man asked as he handed him his book bag.

"Jonathan," he replied softly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Jonathan! Welcome to Hogwarts. I'm Professor Grayson, Edward Grayson," he said shaking Jonathan's free hand vigorously.

Jonathan smiled up at the young man in front of him. The professor's smile was kind and gentle. His eyes were a dark brown, almost black, which made them seem deep and a little mysterious, Jonathan noted. However, the boy's observations were interrupted as he heard Professor Grayson saying something about needing to assist other first years. Jonathan watched the professor walk down the train car stopping every so often to greet a new student or shake hands with an older one.

"Can you believe he's really the new headmaster?" someone said. Jonathan turned around and noticed Lucie talking to a pair of boys, one wearing a blue and silver tie, the other a scarlet and gold one, denoting their houses.

"I know," the other boy said. "Professor Grayson is absolutely amazing! He mingles with the students, he's admitted students and professors from other countries, and he's even close enough to our age to be able to relate to us," the boy said with obvious admiration in his voice.

The first boy suddenly noticed Jonathan and grinned. "Hullo there," he said cheerfully, his almond shaped green eyes twinkling. "We didn't see you there. Sorry." He stuck out a large, work-worn hand. "Name's Pete," he said shaking Jonathan's hand, "And this is me brother Al."

"I prefer to be called Alfred," the second boy said grumpily as he pushed a stray lock of neatly combed chestnut colored hair out of his large gray eyes, which were made even larger by his thick-framed eyeglasses. Then he turned back to Jonathan and smiled a rather crooked smile as if he didn't get much practice using it. "Alfred Lee Dobkins at your service," he said still smiling awkwardly.

"I'm Jonathan. Jonathan Lockhart," the small boy said as he puffed out his chest proudly.

Lucie and Pete burst out laughing at the sight of the small, skinny boy puffed up with pride as if trying to look larger than he really was. He also bore such a look of passionate pride at being a member of the Lockhart family, which everyone knew was nothing to be proud of, that they couldn't help but laugh. Alfred, however, made no sound, but looked down at the small boy with a look of pity upon his face.

Jonathan's proud smile vanished as he stared at the two children laughing so hysterically at him. He couldn't understand what they were laughing at, but he didn't have to wonder long.

"You're a Lockhart," a voice behind him asked. "Related to that Gilderoy Lockhart are you?"

Jonathan spun around to see a boy of about his age standing behind him with a smug look on his pale, pasty face and malice shining in his beady black eyes.

"Yes I am," Jonathan said. "He's my uncle."

"I didn't know that stupid oaf was still alive," the boy said, "let alone that were others. I didn't think creatures like that were even able to reproduce," he said mockingly as if talking about some sort of wild animals instead of Jonathan's family.

Jonathan's eyes narrowed and his muscles tensed. "How… how dare you!" he stammered furiously. "How dare you talk about Uncle Gilderoy that way! My uncle is a brilliant man!" Jonathan shouted at the boy.

The boy just laughed in Jonathan's face. His face twisted into a cruel grin. "Brilliant? Gilderoy Lockhart is a liar and a fraud, but worse than that," he paused an looked Jonathan straight in the eye and sneered, "he's a squib which is just as bad as being a mudblood."

Jonathan felt his heart pounding in his ears. He felt his face flush hotly and then at the words "squib" and "mudblood" the boy felt something inside of him snap. He leapt forward on top of the other boy and they both fell to the floor. He couldn't control himself! He couldn't do anything! It was as if he weren't even in his own body anymore. It was like he was watching himself from the outside. Jonathan just kept on punching the other boy as hard as he possibly could. He hit him in the stomach and the face. His fists were flying so fast and so hard that they rarely landed where he intended but more often then not they did manage to hit some part of the stunned offender's anatomy.

Suddenly Jonathan felt himself being lifted up in the air and off of the other boy. Pete and Lucie each had one of his arms and Professor Grayson was standing over the pale boy. Jonathan felt his senses slowly returning to him as Lucie and Pete sat him down in his compartment. "Are you mad?" Pete asked him as they sat down beside him. "You were really wailing on 'im! Besides that's Rhett Steen! He's a bad one to mess with!"

Jonathan looked up at his new friends and blushed. "I… I'm sorry. I didn't know… I didn't realize what I was doing… I… I couldn't let him talk about my uncle like that," he stammered and then the hot tears that were trickling down his cheeks turned to sobs. He buried his head in his hands and just let the hot stinging tears come.

Lucie touched his shoulder gently. "Jonathan," she said softly, "why is it so important that you stick up for you uncle anyway? He isn't exactly… well… he's not really… he is a little pompous sometimes," she stammered awkwardly as she tried to find the right words but not upset him.

"Well… it's… it's just that he's… well…" the boy stammered wiping away the tears on the sleeve of his robes. "Uncle Gilderoy is more like a father to me. He raised me. My Mum died not long after I was born and since he was her only relative, he took me in. He's always been good to me and… well… I don't know. You'd do the same thing if that… that… brainless, spineless… that PERSON had said those things about your family," Jonathan said lamely.

"I don't know," Pete interjected. "If I was related to Gilderoy Lockhart I probably would have agreed with Steen."

"Pete! Leave Jonathan alone! You would have done no such thing and you know it!" Alfred scolded as he entered the compartment with Professor Grayson behind him.

"Alfred," Professor Grayson said, "would you please take these students and get them inside for the sorting ceremony," he asked indicating Pete and Lucie. As Alfred led the others out of the compartment Professor Grayson turned to Jonathan. "Alfred explained me what happened back there," he said softly. "I assume you realize that was very wrong and that there is to be no fighting on school grounds," he said looking down at the boy with a kind but firm look.

"Yes sir," Jonathan said softly looking down at the floor. "I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me."

"I understand. I would have done the same thing when I was your age," the headmaster whispered and winked at the embarrassed boy. "That, however," the headmaster added, "does not make it right. I assume you know that, so I'm not going to punish you this time, but make sure it doesn't happen again. Do you understand?" he asked looking at Jonathan, his dark eyes serious.

"Yes sir," Jonathan said feeling quite stunned. He was amazed that he wasn't going to be punished for what he'd just done. It was, however, a good feeling. He did indeed understand that what he had done was against the rules and he vowed not to let it happen again. He smiled up at the kind face of the new headmaster of Hogwarts and decided then and there that he liked him immensely and would do his best to make him proud, even if that meant learning to control his temper, something which would prove to be much harder than the first year student ever imagined!