Unto the Breach, Dear Friends
He'd snuck all his books and his new cloak into his trunk the night before. His wand hadn't left his holster or his arm since his latest trip to Diagon Alley. His Uncle had agreed to take him to the station if only because he was already going that way. He was so happy to get away from Privet Drive that he almost smiled in front of his relatives.
He cooked breakfast like normal, dressed in the best of Dudley's hand-me-downs which weren't very good at all but would have to do until he was on the train and could change into his uniform. There was no reason to dirty any of his nice new Wizarding clothes that he'd kept carefully hidden in his trunk.
Half an hour before his Uncle was planning to leave, Harry started getting his stuff ready. It didn't take long as most of his stuff was already packed.
Then he heard his Uncle's heavy feet on the stairs. The man couldn't be stealthy, between his size and the heavy breathing, it was just impossible for him. So Harry tended to know where his Uncle was in the house at all times. It was only Aunt Petunia who ever snuck up on him and he was sure she did it on purpose. He knew his Uncle's routine very well by now and he knew he had no business upstairs apart from him.
A meaty fist pushed the bedroom door open, followed by a very red face.
"Boy! You better know that we are Not going to be putting up with any nonsense when you come Back!" His Uncle spat at him.
Harry kept his face impassive and looked slightly to the floor to appease the man. He kept his eyes on the mans fists, which were clenched at his sides.
"Yes, Sir." Harry answered.
"Don't give me lip, Boy!" He threatened.
His Uncle always wanted him to do the opposite of what ever Harry did. He knew if he'd stayed silent that would have been insolence. When he did answer it was lip.
"Now turn around, hands on the wall." And he began unbuckling his belt.
That caught him by surprise and it really shouldn't have. He froze for a second. Usually he did something 'freaky' before he got it with the belt. Or allegedly stole something. Or 'hurt' Dudley. Or 'lied'. Really he should have known that this was coming. This was the last chance Vernon was going to get for a while.
"DON'T DISOBEY ME FREAK!" His Uncle bellowed and pushed Harry at the wall he had already been turning to.
Harry gritted his teeth and pulled the back of Dudley's top up and over his head, placing his hands on the wall shoulders width apart. He heard the clinking of the buckle and knew he was going to whip him with the sharp end. He stared at the blank wall and retreated to his field.
Just the sound of the wind. Nothing but tall grass and beautiful flowers. Dirt under his finger nails.
The belt lashed down on him. He felt it and the blood that trickled down his back but it was distant. He counted the blows, concentrated on his breathing and pictured his field. He only got to five when his Uncle's arm tired. It wasn't, by far, the worst beating he'd ever had.
"And you better remember that, when your off with those freaks." With that his Uncle wheezed his way out of the room and down the stairs.
Harry let out a slow breath of frustration and pain. Forcing himself to stay on his feet he made his way to the bathroom, careful not to bleed on the carpet. He took his shirt off and put it over the loo. Looking at himself in the mirror, he could see he was pale and a bit shaky. He took some toilet roll and tried to hold it to his back. He had to staunch the blood. When he was on the train, he'd take care of it better. His flannel and towel already having been packed.
Once his blood had gone tacky, Harry pulled the top back over his head, careful not to open his back again. It would have to do.
Soon Harry and Vernon were on their way to London. He was concentrating on sitting up straight and not letting his back touch the seat that he answered truthfully when Vernon asked him what platform the train would be at. He seemed to think that Platform 9 3/4 was hilarious. Harry thought it was rather obvious that it was hidden in some way. They couldn't have muggles learning about Hogwarts.
Unfortunately that made Uncle Vernon want to follow him into the station and see for himself. He seemed to be imagining that someone had played a joke on Harry and given him a fake ticket or something. Which was a bit ridiculous. He didn't point any of that out of course.
Logically, Platform nine and three-quarters should be between nine and ten, so that's where he headed. The only thing between the two stations were the pillars holding up the ceiling.
"See Boy. Nothing. Good luck finding it." Vernon snapped triumphantly.
One wall had the signs attached to it and as he drew closer he felt a faint tingle of magic. He slyly reached out a hand and watched as his fingers disappeared through the wall. He smirked.
"Thank-you Uncle for your assistance." He said over his shoulder knowing the man had dallied in the hopes of seeing some defeat or disappointment on his nephews face.
With that he passed through the wall, disappearing from sight. As the wall melted away from him, his senses were assaulted by the other side.
The first thing that drew his eye and nose was the bright red steam train waiting for all the school children to get on board. It was only five to eleven and he knew it would be leaving soon. He passed a group of children all gathered round something exciting, parents helping their children on to the train and one boy who was bemoaning the loss of his toad. Harry hadn't gotten a familiar. He thought pushing Aunt Petunia like that was just asking for trouble.
He got on to the last carriage, thankful that he'd spent a bit of extra on his trunk and gotten one with a feather light charm. He unlocked his trunk in the last carriage and pulled out his flannel and uniform, before locking it again and hoisting it up into the luggage holder.
There was a bathroom at the very end of the train, right next to his compartment. He put a locking charm on the door. His first time using his wand for magic. It felt as though his magic was being drawn out of his arm. The charm probably wouldn't stand up to any of the older students but it would give him time to get into a cubicle. He took off his shirt and began wetting his flannel in the sink.
He cleaned off every bit he could reach and used magic and the mirror to do the rest. With the blood gone, Harry could make out the raised red skin surrounding the deep welts. It wasn't that bad. At least he'd had worse. He rung out the flannel until the water ran clean, collected his folded pile of clothes from the side and headed for one of the cubicles, after unlocking the door.
Putting everything down on the very clean toilet lid, Harry crouched down leaning against the wall. Then he began healing himself. It was always a long process and feeling his wounds fill up with magic almost burned as much as the wound itself if he rushed it. So slowly he reached within and grasped his power. Slowly he focused on exciting the skin cells into meeting up in the middle and knitting together.
First the last one and so on until his back was back to it's rough mottled self with a few more smaller scars than it had had that morning. He was only a little tired after but he put that down as a bad nights sleep and a depletion of adrenalin than the magic he'd used. Mostly he was hungry. He'd only managed to get a scrap of dinner the night before and nothing for breakfast that morning.
Harry struggled out of his trousers and Dudley's over large trainers and slipped into his uniform and the black leather boots he'd bought for Hogwarts. He'd felt the train start to move while he'd been healing himself so he was surprised to find his compartment still empty.
He pulled down his trunk once more, stuffing in the rags he wouldn't have to where until June and pulling out one of his books. After his trunk was away again, Harry used the locking charm on his compartment door and set an alarm he'd learnt about in his spying book and, much more comfortable, he sat down to read.
An hour later, there was a knock on the door. It was a little old witch pushing a trolley. He used finite incantartem on the door, probably by far the most useful spell he'd learnt so far.
"Any thing from the trolley, dear?" She asked in an almost too upbeat cheerful tone that spoke of how many times she had said it in her life.
"Umm." Nothing was familiar.
"Muggleborn?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Well Pumpkin pasties are the closest to a sandwich you're going to get. Everything else is sweet. Bertie Bott's Every flavoured beans are quite popular but of course, they do mean every flavour. You might not want to risk it, dear. I would recommend the iced mice or..."
But Harry cut her off, something having already caught his eye.
"Blood-flavoured lollipops?" It was a guilty pleasure of his that he liked the taste of his own blood. If the Wizarding world sold blood flavour candy, clearly he wasn't as freakish as he thought.
She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, dear. Not very popular but I always stock a few."
"How much for all of them?" He pulled his money pouch out of his pocket. "And two pumpkin pasties." He added as an after thought.
She wrinkled her nose again but sold him all her stock of blood lollies and trundled back the way she came. Re-securing the door, he settled down once more with his book and a stomach full of pasty. He was idly sucking on a bloodpop a few hours later when he was interrupted by a bushy haired girl, also in her uniform, knocking on the door rather harshly. He opened it cautiously.
"Are you allowed to lock the doors? What if something happened in there and you needed medical assistance!" She burst out before the door was all the way out of her way.
He just snorted.
"Any of the older kids could have undone the spell." He said back coolly before adding, "Unless they were a compete idiot." It had been fairly easy after all.
She let out a huff and seemed to dismiss his answer.
"Have you seen a toad?" She asked rather pointedly.
"No. Have you tried asking one of the older students to do a summoning charm?" Then he thought again. "Or better yet, checked the toilets?"
She frowned. "The toilets?"
He tried hard not to roll his eyes.
"Dark, damp and relatively quiet compared to the rest of the train." He said as if it was obvious, which it kind of was.
The girl didn't say thank-you or by your leave, she just stormed off probably to check the loos. Harry sighed and put the door and charms back in place, sucking on his bloodpop.
He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew it was dark and a voice echoing through the train informing him that they would be arriving at Hogsmeade momentarily and to change and leave the luggage on the train. Harry wasn't so sure about that but complied anyway. He'd lodge a complaint no one had ever seen before if his stuff was lost. He touched his wand holster through his sleeve before entering the mass of students readying themselves to leave the train.
Getting off the train, he heard Hagrid calling over everyone for the first years to follow him. Harry did, making sure he was at the back of the crowd. He got on the last boat with three others. The others seemed nervous and the four of them didn't say a word to each other as they crossed the lake.
He felt a tingle of magic outside of his body grow more powerful until he felt as though he had passed through a wall of magic. He could only guess that they'd just passed the old and powerful wards he'd read about in Hogwarts, a History. The others didn't seem to notice. Eventually the castle came within sight.
It was glorious. It's bold silhouette stood tall against the darkening sky, wisps of magic flowing around it. There were three or four large towers but other smaller ones seemed to peak out all over the place. It was huge. Harry remembered some of the other things he'd read in Hogwarts, a History. Like supposedly it had one hundred, and forty two staircases and innumerable 'secret pathways'.
He couldn't help but look forward to the next year.
He'd read about the four houses, their founders and specialities. Ravenclaws were smart, studious and quick-witted. Hufflepuffs hardworking, loyal and fair. Gryffindors were brave, chivalrous and adventurous. Slytherins were sly, cunning and ambitious. He wasn't sure where he was going to fit in.
He'd stuck to the back of the group, unwilling to have anyone walking behind him. The ghosts peeked his interest but they were soon gone. Eventually they were herded into the Great Hall. The ceiling was more impressive than he'd imagined but he didn't waste time staring at it. He turned his head to the other pupils already sitting at the tables. They were staring back and Harry kept his carefully impassive expression. He wasn't going to be cowed just because there were a lot of them and they were older.
Everyone followed Professor McGonagall up the hall until everyone was crowded at the front. She put a stool in the middle of the dais and set an old hat on top of it. Then the hat began to sing. Harry listened carefully trying to tell if it was informative or just a bit of traditional entertainment. Even at the end he still wasn't sure.
Professor McGonagall began reading out a list of names in alphabetical order and they went up to put the hat on and were sorted into their house. Harry began taking note of names and houses, never knowing when that information might be useful.
Eventually it was his turn.
"Potter, Harry." She called.
He started pushing through and the students broke out into whispers.
"Harry Potter? THE Harry Potter!"
"...I heard he was coming to Hogwarts this year."
"Do you think he remembers..."
Harry held his head up high as though he didn't hear the rumble of voices talking about him. He concentrated on the Hat in front of him. He picked it up and placed it on his head as he sat down. The hat fell over his eyes.
"Hmmm, curious. Very curious..." A voice said in his head.
He made a conscious effort not to jump like some of the others did.
"Curious?" Instead he asked cautiously.
"A very organised mind you have Mister Potter? Not often does such a mind walk through those doors. Not in one so young as you." The Hat continued.
"Hmmm." He hummed in interest but without knowing what to say to that.
"Yes, yes. Hardworking, I see. Not a bad mind either." The Hat paused. "Oh. And a thirst to prove yourself. Tell me Mister Potter, what do you want?"
What did he want? He wanted to never go back to Privet Drive. He didn't want anyone telling him what to do or making him do stuff anymore. He wanted to be powerful enough that he could take care of himself and make everyone else go away! He gripped the stool with the force of that thought. It was true he wanted to be left alone in his field. He'd find it one day and build his own house there.
"Oh what ambition you have. You could be great, you know. Slytherin could help you on your way to Greatness." The Sorting Hat informed him.
"Slytherin it is then?" Harry thought back.
"SLYTHERIN!" The hat called aloud
Harry took off the hat and laid it on the stool for the next moment. His lack of applause didn't go unnoticed but he pretended it did. He was almost at his seat when the boy from Madam Malkins stood up from the table and began to clap. The rest of the table followed.
"Draco Malfoy." He held out his hand to shake.
Harry did take his hand, the standard up, down, up for new acquaintances according to his book.
"Harry Potter." He introduced himself and Malfoy seemed pleased that he reacted as he should have.
They both sat and Harry turned his attention back to the sorting. It was over soon after and Harry was joined by Blaise Zabini who sat on his other side. The other boy, Theodore Nott nodded to him so Harry returned it with equal depth.
The Headmaster stood up and spoke to them all. "Blubber, oddment and tweak."
Harry thought it might be worth watching the Headmaster. Either he was slightly senile or he was pretending to be. Both could prove to be a danger. The food appeared before him. He was just glad there weren't a hundred and one forks like on one of the pages in his etiquette book. He still hadn't plotted all of them out yet.
He served himself a large helping, considering what he was used to and especially grabbed some vegetables. He so rarely got fruit or vegetables at the Dursley's.
It turned out that Malfoy had a lot to say. Most of his year mates seemed to hang off his every word. He let his eyes wander over the teachers. He couldn't really tell much from there but it was obvious when Hagrid avoided his eye. Harry ignored him too and carried on down the line.
One of the teachers was staring at him. For a moment he was captured by those dark eye surrounded by a scowling face. A burst of pain shot through his scar as Quirrell moved next to the teacher. He turned away but didn't let himself show the pain except for a tensing of the hand holding his fork.
He leaned in slightly towards Zabini, as Malfoy was still wittering on, but not enough to be in the boy's space. They hadn't really been introduced yet.
"Whose that next to Quirrell?" He asked looking down at his food and taking a bite.
"I think that's Professor Snape. Our Head of House and Potions Master." The boy replied but in a tone that was slightly begrudging.
Harry nodded but said nothing more. He didn't think Snape liked him much but he wasn't going to jump to conclusions yet.
Then the ghosts arrived. Most scattered around the Hall, with the House Ghosts floating above or through the tables. Harry watched as Nearly-Headless Nick rose through a plate of chicken legs and preceded to show his house why he was called 'Nearly-Headless'. Harry frowned at the repugnant display.
Slytherin's ghost however, floated very calmly a suitable distance above them so as not to interfere with their dinner. When he came to the first years, he looked them over subtly.
"Mr Malfoy." He ghost nodded, his whispered voice somehow cutting through the chatter in the Great Hall.
Malfoy himself paled slightly but managed a polite greeting back. The ghost made to hover between Harry and Malfoy. Harry shuffled up to make room for him but Malfoy tried to move as far away as humanly possible.
"And Mr Potter," The Bloody Baron turned to him. "There hasn't been a Potter in Slytherin in almost eight hundred years."
Harry wasn't exactly sure on the etiquette when talking to a ghost, his book hadn't covered it. It was mostly Wizard to Wizard/Witch. There was one chapter as how to deal with Goblins but that was it on the magical creatures.
"Baron." He nodded at the ghost since a hand shake was definitely out of the question.
He could still see Malfoy on the other side of the Baron, it was like looking through a foggy window. The Baron himself was dressed in silvery robes covered in slightly more opaque silvery blood. He seemed to have died from a knife to the chest. Thinking it was probably rude to stare at his manner of death, Harry found himself looking into the slightly unnerving cold eyes set in a gaunt but intelligent face.
When the ghost didn't say anything, Harry groped around for something to say.
"Interesting form of immortality. Not one most would choose if they understood, I suppose?" He'd thought alot about the consequences of being a ghost since he learned about the possibility.
The Baron's lips quirked slightly. "I think you'll do well here, Mr Potter." Was all he said before he floated away to talk with some of the upper years.
Eventually desert was finished, the headmaster had made his announcements and they were all going to bed.
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The Dursley's are more brutal so Harry's had to be a bit cleverer to survive. So he's a little bit more self-assured (he knows he can take care of himself, he's done it his whole life.)if not self confident. Realising he has magic and using it have given him more of an awareness for the feel of it.
BTW he missed Ron and the Twins when he was in the bathroom. They took Ronniekins further down the train and dropped him off with other first years, Seamus and Dean, before heading off to find the spider and Lee.
With the absence to Ron and his distrust of Hagrid lead to an almost unbiased Harry when he meets the sorting hat.
I never understood why Harry didn't take a dislike to Hermione at first like Ron. She is kind of snooty like Petunia.
Malfoy and his crownies did look for Harry on the train but he was asleep when they reached his end of the train. People are talking about him on the train but no one knows where he is without the twins to tell them.
