A/N: I'm back again. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Out of curiousity, what house are people expecting him to be in? And do you actually expect him to be sorted in the near future? Assumptions, people... I look forward to your input. As for updates, I finished both this chapter and the next chapter last weekend. You can expect the next chapter next Friday, unless I miraculously get 50 reviews or more (in addition to the ones I already have) in which case I'll post it Monday.
Disclaimer- It belongs to JKR. She is quoted in some places, where the story overlaps briefly with cannon, as somethings wouldn't change, and I find it takes depth away from a story to cut out details, not to mention some of them are useful to the plot I'm working with.
"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."
"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."
"George!"
"Only joking, Mum."
The train began to move, starting its journey to take Harry to the school, Hogwarts, where ever that was. A school where Quirrel was in some sort of plot with a voice in his head over the theft of a rock, which despite sounding like pure lunacy, it was important to some extent at least, because he knew something of Harry. In short, a train was taking him on some crazy wild goose chase over something he'd heard, but he couldn't have stayed at the manor without finding out, as they'd gone in there before, and strangely, despite the craziness, he didn't regret being here. The red-headed boys' mother and sister were running beside the train, half laughing, half crying, until the train gathered speed. Moments later the platform was out of sight.
The compartment door slid open and the youngest of the red-headed boys, Ron, came in and sat down. Harry watched him for a little while, before, dozing off. It was best to get some rest now, while he had a chance, and there isn't much you can do when you're invisible without giving away your presence. The train ride passed, for the most part, without event. He was awakened briefly on several occasions. The first time was when a snack trolley was brought through, carrying an assortment of unfamiliar quantities: Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Ron stayed in the compartment, and got out a lumpy package which turned out to contain four sandwiches. Harry couldn't help wishing that he could get something off the trolley, or at least get some food out from his bag. Unfortunately, he didn't think any amount of pounds would help him, and he couldn't get food from the trolley or from his knapsack without extreme risk of detection. Unzipping the bag, or opening the compartment door to reach the trolley were hardly subtle moves.
The next time he awoke it was to a knock on the compartment door, just before it slid open. A round faced boy came in, looking rather tearful.
"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"
When Ron shook his head, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"Well, if you see him..." he trailed off miserably.
He left.
Several minutes later, he was back, this time accompanied by a girl.
"Anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.
She was wearing long black robes. Odd... but then again, so had been every other event recently, so Harry wasn't bothered, just curious. He paused his pondering to tune in on what she was saying.
"...Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard- I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it be enough- I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"
She said all this very fast.
Harry, of course, while finding it all rather surprising, not to mention extraordinary to believe, thought it explained a lot. 'Very best school of witchcraft,' was certainly explanatory when it came to all the odd happenings on his way here, and, in a way, it explained something about all the seemingly impossible skills Harry had come to rely on for the past few years.
"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.
There was another awkward silence.
"You'd had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."
And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.
Several minutes later, a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
Ron got up and went out to join the crowd thronging the corridor, and Harry followed, invisible, bringing his knapsack with him. It wouldn't do to leave any evidence of his presence.
The train slowed right down and finally stopped. Upon exiting the train Harry found himself out on a tiny, dark platform. It was night, and the air was slightly chilly. Moments later a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and voice could be heard calling out: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"
It was a giant of a man, face almost hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair, and a wild tangled beard. You could make out his eyes, however, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.
"C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Harry made a hasty decision not to go with the first years. He was trying to find information on Quirrel, not an introduction for attending school.
He followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Harry could only assume, by an invisible horse, because once he'd boarded one of the less crowed ones and the door had been shut, the coach started off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.
The carriage was headed towards a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars. After passing the gates, the carriage picked up speed for a long, sloping drive. Harry could see it now; perched atop a high mountain, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers, a castle that Harry knew, without a doubt, must be Hogwarts.
At last, the carriage swayed to a halt. Harry waited for the other students to get out, so as not to be noticed, then followed them, out, down on to the path, and up the stone steps to the castle.
While Harry had followed the rest of the school to the carriages, the first years were trudging a different path, down towards the boats, led by Hagrid, they were fairly quiet, for a little while at least.
"He seems glum," muttered Ron, glancing at the gamekeeper.
"Of course he is, all the staff probably are. Don't you know anything?" exclaimed Hermione, quietly enough not to be heard by Hagrid.
"Why don't you enlighten us then, if you know so much," Ron retorted, obviously annoyed.
"This is the year Harry Potter was supposed to have come to Hogwarts."
"And we should care, why?" sneered a blond boy near by.
"Because it's Harry Potter," Ron glared back, "Just who do you think you are, anyway?"
"Draco Malfoy," Ron snorted, "No need to ask who you are. Red hair, freckles, and more children then they can afford. You must be a Weasley. And I don't see why you bother. The all it took to kill the pathetic brat was a house fire."
The group continued in silence. After Hagrid had to separate the two, that is.
The red-headed twins were in a small corridor, near the entrance hall, bent over what appeared to be a bunch of prank supplies, and a map.
"... have to do something different this year."
"Wait, someone's coming."
"Look and the name, brother dearest. I think we may have found a solution."
"Show yourself, Potter, we know you're there."
Harry chose to comply. They were pranksters, after all, and likely wouldn't be hard to deal with. He sat down beside the twins, and glanced at the map. It appeared to be a map of Hogwarts, complete with all the people within it, and what seemed to be secret passages.
"So," one of twins spoke up, "will you help us with a prank?"
"If I so decide, you owe me help in the future, should I need it. Within reason, of course."
"Quite."
"Agreed. So here's the plan."
"At some point during the feast, we'll set off fireworks."
"When we do, you make yourself visible so that you're there when the smoke clears."
Harry looked at them questioningly, eyebrows raised.
"And this is a decent prank, why?"
"We'll say a few things to set it up..."
"...And it'll be shocking!"
"You do know everyone thinks your dead, right?"
There was a brief pause.
"No, I didn't, actually," Harry answered, smirking slightly.
"Oh, alright then-"
"-We'll fill you in later."
"But at any rate-"
"They're likely to think-"
"-for a moment at least-"
"That you're a ghost. There are ghosts here by the way."
"I see. Two things to consider, then; Do you actually plan on trying to make me look like a ghost to further the effect, and what am I supposed to do once I've let it be discovered that I'm here?"