Bruce arrived at Platform 9-3/4 without incident, although he'd never have managed without Professor McGonagall's instructions and would have been lost in King's Cross looking for the oddly named platform. Alfred had tried pushing on the specified barrier to no avail, but Bruce had no trouble wheeling his baggage through. He left the trolley on the platform out of the way and returned to bid Alfred farewell in the train station proper. Both tried very hard to keep the tears from their eyes as Alfred promised to be there at the start of the Christmas holiday to retrieve him and Bruce promised to be on his best behavior while at school. Both failed.
Eventually there was no choice but to pass through the barrier between the two normal platforms and into the magical world. It was much harder the second time, knowing that he wouldn't be seeing Alfred again for several months. At least it isn't really goodbye, he kept reassuring himself, I have Robin to carry letters.
When he'd brought the little cage home Bruce had looked up everything he could about the American Robin. While Bruce didn't know a great deal about birds, he was certain that Robin was quite a bit more clever than an average member of turdus migratorius should be. The shopkeeper had been right that Robin was too small to carry letters in the thick parchment that seemed normal for wizards but, by buying a pad of lightweight paper and fashioning a messenger harness like those for homing pigeons, Bruce had been able to send messages with Robin. They'd tested this system by having Robin fly back to the penthouse from the other side of London, and he'd seemed quite pleased with himself when Bruce and Alfred had caught up to him at home and removed his little yellow and black backpack.
Students and their families crowded the platform making or avoiding their own tearful farewells. On the tracks a scarlet steam engine pulled a line of antique carriages. Something seemed odd about the train, though it took a second for him to realize what it was. Shouldn't a steam engine have a coal car? Bruce didn't know much about trains either, but his father had loved them. Some rumors even claimed that was the real reason Thomas Wayne had pressured his company into rebuilding Gotham's metro system.
The train blew its whistle, signalling that there was little time left to board. Bruce handed off his luggage to a porter who stowed it underneath one of the carriages and assured him it would be attended to when they arrived. He grabbed Robin's cage along with his backpack and began looking for a place to sit during the trip. Now that he thought about it he realized that he had no idea how long it would take to reach Hogwarts. He didn't even know where it was, and no amount of checking atlases and maps during the last few weeks had given him any clues. Besides, even if he had known where they were going, he didn't know how fast this train would go. He didn't even know how fast regular steam engines went, much less a magical one.
As one of the last to board Bruce had no choice but to share a compartment with another student. He eventually found one with only one other occupant and said "Hello" to the older, dark haired girl. Apart from an odd look at Robin she didn't seem to pay him much attention, so he took the opposite bench and set down Robin's cage next to him. Unsure of the proper etiquette for sharing a train compartment, he intended to sit in silence and continue reading his copy of Hogwarts, A History until they reached the school. Bruce had been quite busy preparing things since getting all his supplies from Diagon Alley and hadn't had time to go through all his new books.
He hadn't even opened the cover before the girl looked up from her own book and said "Don't bother with that, it leaves all the important things out."
"I'm sorry?" Bruce had no idea what she was talking about, what did the book leave out?
She set down her own book, whose cover looked to be in Arabic, "Ever since Hermione Granger cited it as one of her main references people think Hogwarts, A History is the definitive text, but it only goes over the official history and only up to the end of the nineteenth century. There's no mention of Tom Riddle or the Battle of Hogwarts," she continued as though either of these names meant something to Bruce, "they never talk about the Riddle of Ravenclaw or the Chamber of Secrets, even though the Chamber was actually found, and it also never mentions house-elves or the school's difficult relationship with the centaurs of the Forbidden Forest."
"I guess there wasn't enough room for everything." Bruce hazarded, "Is there a better book?"
She shrugged, "Not really. You're best off just listening to the other students. Rumor moves fast in Hogwarts." She paused briefly and looked at him like he was a puzzle, "Your accent is American, form the Northeast, yes?"
He nodded, "Gotham City. I can't place yours." She wasn't originally from Britain, he could tell, but other than that he wasn't sure.
"My family moves around a lot, mostly in the Middle East, but my father wanted me to study at Hogwarts." She looked out the window as the train began to move and said something in Arabic that Bruce couldn't translate but assumed was impolite. "I'm supposed to be at the prefect meeting at the front." She threw a robe over her clothes, "I'm Talia al'Ghul, by the way, one of the Slytherin prefects."
"Bruce Wayne, it's my first year," He replied and shook her offered hand. He'd at least read enough to know that students at Hogwarts were divided into four houses their first year and that prefects were older students charged with enforcing the rules in their house. The book said the practice of sorting students into Houses descended from the school's four founders, who personally mentored students who shared their ideals. It was vague on exactly what those ideals were or how the students were sorted, though.
"Good luck at Hogwarts, Bruce." With that she grabbed her book and walked briskly from the compartment.
Deciding incomplete preparation was better than none at all, Bruce opened up the book to where he'd left off. He hadn't gotten very far when his reading was interrupted by another group of students looking for a vacant compartment. Four older kids opened the compartment door and looked in. The shorter, dark haired boy in the lead sneered at Robin and looked right at Bruce when he said, "Here we go, chaps, this one's empty."
Bruce had a pretty good idea how the following exchange would go. There was enough space for all five of them even with the cage but the lead boy, or one of his friends, would invent a reason to forcibly remove the smaller Bruce and his little bird, proving to each other how big and strong they were. Three years ago he'd have walked away and let them have the compartment.
His father had tried giving a bully what he wanted and he'd only wanted more.
Setting his book down next to Robin's cage first, Bruce stood. He only came up to the shortest one's chin. "There's plenty of room to share," he began with a smile.
"Share?!" The lead boy laughed, "I don't think you heard me, mate. We're the most elite crew in school, and this here's our private room now." He pulled a wand from his pocket and pointed it at Bruce's face, "Now you'll be getting out of our way."
He'd barely gotten through three chapters of Magical Dueling in Theory and Practice and only started on Practical Magical Defense, he had no idea how much the older students had already learned, and he'd barely even tried using his wand. But Bruce had spent the last three years practicing defensive techniques with Alfred Pennyworth.
He stepped to the side and grabbed the lead boy's wrist, bringing it down and twisting it to force the taller boy off balance and hold him low at a safe distance. The older boy cried out in pain and dropped his wand. Seeing the boy's friends raise their own wands, Bruce stepped around and raised the boy's wrist, forcing him to stand between his friends and Bruce just as three flashes of light shot from their wands.
At once the bully's legs gave out and his arms snapped to his sides. At the same moment he began babbling nonsense. Bruce let go of the boy's wrist in surprise at the sudden movement and weight as the boy collapsed on the floor just inside the compartment. With their target's shield now lying on the ground the three bullies had a clear line of sight, he couldn't close the distance to them without being hit by their curses and he couldn't try to dodge in the confined compartment.
Bruce was cornered and out-numbered when a sudden shrill cry came from behind the three bullies. The girl suddenly cried out as a red and brown blur assaulted her through her wild brown hair. Distracted by Bruce's unexpected attack on the leader, no one had noticed that Robin had opened his cage and flown around behind the bullies. The little bird was now viciously scratching and pecking the girl's face as she dropped her wand and desperately tried to ward him off with her hands.
That gave Bruce the opening he needed. He started to grab the lanky, greasy haired boy when a familiar voice shouted, "All of you stop!" Very slowly Bruce stepped back, Robin disentangled himself from the girl's hair and flew to Bruce's shoulder, and the two boys put away their wands. Talia al'Ghul strode through the connector from the front of the train, two smaller boys following along behind her. While the lanky boy was marginally taller than her, all three shrank before her glare.
Talia looked from the three "elite" students to their still babbling leader to Bruce. She almost smiled before fixing her expression again and turning to the lanky boy, "I come back from the prefect meeting to check on my new friend, Bruce, and I find this. What exactly happened here, Rampo?"
"It's his fault, Talia!" The greasy haired boy, Rampo, said and pointed at Bruce. "We were just looking for a compartment and look what he did to Manny!"
She raised her eyebrows, "Right. A first year student hit Manchester Black with what looks like jelly legs, an upper body bind, and the incoherence curse all at once. While that was happening the rest of your little 'gang' stood here and watched. Oh, and apparently let a little bird try to eat your ear, Pamela?" She added, looking directly at mess of shallow scratches covering the left side of Pamela's face. Pamela flushed and tried to hide the scratches with her hair. "Is that what happened, or did you four decide to start a fight you couldn't win?"
Rampo looked to the large boy, who shrugged. Talia nodded, "I thought so. Nathan, you pick up Manchester here and find yourselves someplace to sit for the rest of the trip. Rampo, you pick up Manchester's wand and give it back when your curses wear off. Pamela, go to the hospital wing when we get to Hogwarts and ask Madam Pomfrey to look at those scratches."
They did as she instructed, glaring at Bruce from behind Talia's back as they moved on. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Bruce," Talia rolled her eyes. "Now, while I was walking through the aisles I found two more first years looking for a place to sit." She stepped aside to let the two boys behind her into the compartment. "You three settle in, I need to go make sure there aren't any more idiots getting into trouble."
Robin sang proudly and flew back into his cage while Bruce took his seat again. Talia continued down the aisle and left the two boys behind with Bruce. The blond haired boy ran forward and excitedly clasped Bruce's hand, "Hi. I'm George Cross. This is Miles Duncan. What was that?!" His friend hung back but seemed no less interested.
Bruce awkwardly shook George's hand, "Bruce Wayne. They wanted my seat and didn't want to ask nicely." he shrugged in what he hoped as a casual manner, "I just put their leader between me and them, so they cursed him instead of me. Robin helped a lot," At his name Robin looked up from cleaning his feathers and chirped. He tried to sound nonchalant but George and Miles weren't satisfied until he gave them a detailed explanation of exactly what had happened and showed them the wrist lock he'd used on Manny.
"Where did you learn to do that?!" George asked, rubbing his wrist while Bruce demonstrated on Miles.
"My..." Bruce let go of Miles' arm and paused to consider what to call Alfred. His butler? That was true but would raise more questions he didn't want to answer, and wasn't nearly as personal as he felt. His legal guardian? Also true, but also too impersonal. "My godfather's been teaching me."
"Wow," Miles stared in awe, "Did he fight in the war?" George smacked his shoulder, "Don't be stupid. Listen to his accent, You-Know-Who never went to America." What war were they talking about? Who was this person they were talking about? He had no time to ask because Miles had already moved on to a new subject by asking, "Why are you going to Hogwarts? I know there's a magic school in America."
Was there? Bruce hadn't thought about it, but he should have been able to guess. Professor McGonagall had said there were other places to study magic, so there must be schools in America. "My godfather moved us to Britain a few years ago after my parents died." Miles visibly cringed and both boys sobered immediately, which made Bruce felt a little guilty about his abruptness. He didn't want to go into any detail, but he also wasn't trying to make the other boys feel bad about bringing it up.
His reason for being in Britain was something that had come up at his last school and he'd expected it to come up again at this one. What was different was how George and Miles reacted. Kids at his last school had pried into his past but these two seemed to know that he wouldn't want to talk about it with people he'd just met. Were they just more thoughtful? Was it because of this war they'd mentioned?
By this time Talia had apparently made a full circuit of the train and was walking back up the other way, because she opened the door to their compartment and looked in on the awkward silence. "I thought you three would be getting on like old friends by now. Who died?" At Miles and George's shocked looks she seemed to realize this was exactly the wrong thing to say, because she quickly looked at Bruce, "Oh, sorry."
Partially just to change the subject, Bruce asked, "They mentioned something about a war earlier. What war?"
Talia sighed and motioned for the other two boys to make room for her to sit down. "I don't know when it started exactly, but a long time ago a young wizard named Tom Riddle left Britain to study magic around the world. I think he ran afoul of my father during his travels, I've heard Father curse his name, but I don't know what happened between them. After many years he returned home as Lord Voldemort," George and Miles gasped. Talia rolled her eyes again and added melodramatically, "And his reign of terror was such that most wizards in Britain still fear to speak his name out loud." She returned to her normal voice, "Most still call him 'You-Know-Who' out of fear and his followers called him 'The Dark Lord' as a sign of respect. Only the vigilante group that stood against him weren't afraid to say his name.
"He gathered followers and power for years and killed anyone who opposed him," she went on. "Until one day he went after Lily and James Potter. After killing them he tried to kill their infant son, Harry, but instead his body was destroyed. For years everyone thought he was dead, but maybe ten years ago he reappeared and mustered his old supporters again, breaking the most loyal out of prison and killing any who had abandoned him. The second time around he managed to install his supporters in the Ministry and took total control over Britain's magical government for about a year. Three years after returning he confronted Harry Potter again at Hogwarts and was killed for good."
"How?" Bruce asked. If he'd survived his body being destroyed how had he finally died?
Talia shrugged, "If anyone knows what was keeping him alive they won't say, so who can say how they killed him?" She stood up, "I'm heading back up to the front. Look for me at the Slytherin table once you're sorted. Oh," She seemed to remember something and turned around at the door, "Since you don't already know all this, I assume you don't come from a magical family?" Bruce shook his head. "Just so you're aware, some old wizard families are prejudiced against muggle-born students." At his blank look she added, "Muggle is a slang term in Britain for non-magical people. The idea of wizard superiority was one of Voldemort's main beliefs, so it lost a lot of credibility when he died, but it hasn't died yet." With that she turned to leave and waved, "Have fun, boys."
An awkward silence filled the compartment in her absence that was thankfully interrupted by an older woman pushing a snack trolley. While Bruce didn't have much of a sweet tooth, it seemed that George did and he and Miles bought quite a few Chocolate Frogs and other candies. By the time the snack trolley had moved on the mood in their compartment had lightened considerably.
The three boys passed the remainder of the train ride chatting comfortably. It seemed that Miles collected the trading cards that came with Chocolate Frogs, so he and George compared what had come with their candy to what was in the brown haired boy's collection already while Bruce looked on in interest at the moving portraits on the cards. Both Miles and George came from wizard families and they were curious what growing up in Muggle society was like, and Bruce was just as curious what wizard society was like. They traded stories and surprised each other with mundane details until the sun had set and the train stopped. They put on their school robes and were told to leave any bags and luggage, cages included, on the train to be taken to their dormitories. So Robin stayed behind with Bruce's bag and the still unfinished book.
