Book One: Harry Potter and The Fatal Prank

Chapter 1: A Train Ride to Remember

Although five minutes were a relatively short amount of time, they should have been enough for one to get accustomed to their surroundings. But after settling down in his seat in his train compartment, Harry still couldn't believe he was on the Hogwarts Express, about to set off to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was a bizarre thought: a magical school. Harry had never thought magic actually existed, let alone a school that taught children how to cast spells. It was even more bizarre to think what had happened to him the previous week: Privet Drive being inundated with letters; the refuge to the cabin at the sea; being introduced to Hagrid who actually gave him his first real birthday cake; shopping at Diagon Alley, and now, just a couple of minutes ago, with the help of Molly Weasley, finding platform 9 ¾.

When he thought about it, a slight chill crept up his spine: if he hadn't run into the Weasleys, he might have never found his way onto the platform. Hagrid hadn't left him with any instructions to find it; he'd just said he'd need to be there before eleven o'clock. Harry decided to store that thought in the back of his mind for now and focus on the only important thing: he'd made it. He was going to attend Hogwarts: a place for children just like him. A place where he wouldn't be bullied by his classmates nor by Dudley and his friends.

The train horn broke Harry's reverie as he looked through the window onto the platform and heard a man who was dressed in a red coat with yellow thread and a black cap on his head yell, "Everybody on board! The train is about to leave!" The man blew on his whistle and got onto the train himself. This is it, Harry thought. It was now only a matter of seconds before the train would leave the platform and he'd leave the world as he knew it behind and go to Hogwarts, which would be the beginning of a whole new life.

The last straggling students hurried their goodbyes to their families - their parents and siblings - who had come along to wave them goodbye. Briefly, Harry felt sad as he thought how it would have been had his parents still been alive and waved him off to his first year at Hogwarts. But he heard the last couple of train doors close shut outside and one last blow of the train horn before the train was set into motion. He was excited. Ever since Hagrid had introduced Hogwarts to him at the cabin at the sea, Harry couldn't think of anything he'd rather want than to attend the school. And now his wish was actually coming true!

Harry watched the train leave the platform. Through the window he could see the other train carriages behind him leaving the platform as well and the platform, like the people on it, grew smaller and smaller until they were reduced into small black and grey dots, melting into one black dot, finally disappearing from the horizon. Harry sat like that for some time, watching the passing of the environment: the houses of the city that slowly gave way to countryside and animals.

A door slid open and Harry heard a voice. "Excuse me? Do you mind? Everywhere else is full." Harry turned to look at a boy with red hair and freckles standing in the doorway of the compartment. The boy wore grey pants, a red T-shirt, and a woollen vest with some holes in it. "Not at all," Harry answered and instinctively scooted over, even though he was the only person in the compartment and there was enough room on the bench opposite him as well.
The red-haired boy walked into the compartment and seated himself across from Harry.
"We met at the train station, right?" the boy said to Harry. "My mum told you how to reach the platform."
Harry nodded.
"I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."
"I'm Harry. Harry Potter."
Ron's eyes went wide. "The Harry Potter?" he asked. Harry nodded again.
"Do you… do you have the scar?" Ron asked.

Harry couldn't exactly say he had much experience with the magical world, but in the short time he'd lived in it, he'd already experienced how much he was known. At the Leaky Cauldron and at Diagon Alley, he was met with many stares from witches and wizards alike and grateful handshakes for having defeated Voldemort. He hadn't known any fame in his life until that time and it made him feel weird, especially since it concerned something he didn't even remember doing. He felt uncomfortable being in the spotlight. Similarly, Ron asking him about his scar made Harry feel Ron was another person who didn't see him as a real person, but a celebrity. Nevertheless, though with an internal sigh, Harry lifted his bangs to reveal the scar. Objecting to a seemingly small gesture like that wouldn't exactly help Harry become friends with the boy. Besides, Ron might even think the scar was cool.

"So you're going to Hogwarts for your first year too?" Harry asked Ron.
"Yeah. This is my first year there. Although some of my brothers have finished Hogwarts already and three of them are still there. So I already know a bit about it, but yeah… I've never been there before. It should be really cool, with the huge castle and the tall towers."
"So you already know a bit of magic, then?" Harry asked, deciding to ignore Ron's comments about Hogwarts' architecture for now.

Ron furrowed his brows and looked at him quizzically. "Yeah," he said tentatively, sounding unsure, "but so do you, right?"

This was what Harry feared. The previous week, after getting his school supplies at Diagon Alley, he'd poured over his school books at every chance he got. It was exciting since he didn't know a thing about magic and it was the best past-time whenever he didn't have to do house chores. The toys in Privet Drive were all Dudley's and Harry wasn't allowed to play with any of them. Harry had read most of the books and remembered quite a lot, but that would amount to nothing compared to Ron and doubtless many other kids who had grown up with magic and probably knew all this stuff since they were five years old. He was going to be at a huge disadvantage at the start of the school year.

With his eyes downcast and a hint of shame, Harry said, "No, not really. I grew up with my aunt and uncle after my parents died. They didn't know any magic. They were muggles, I suppose."

"Oh, of course… sorry," Ron stuttered, his face a grimace. "I forgot about… you know."
"It's fine," Harry replied. He didn't want to be the object of anyone's pity.

"So you don't know anything about magic, then? I mean, anything at all? Or about the magical world?" Ron asked.
"No."
"I could tell you some things about magic and the wizarding world, if you'd like."
Harry's face brightened immediately. "Yes, please."

"Well, in that case…"

Ron proceeded to tell him about all kinds of magical things, from Hogwarts and its four Houses, to Quidditch, to his dad's work at the Ministry of Magic - Harry was surprised to learn of a Ministry of Magic - to Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and Chocolate Frogs, which was the topic they were discussing now. Harry liked Ron. He enjoyed their conversation and he thought they were quite alike: they were both magical boys about to attend Hogwarts for the first time and they both wore clothes that didn't really suit them. Ron's vest had holes in it and Harry's clothes were too big for him as they were hand-me-downs from Dudley.

"Look! I've got Dumbledore!" Harry said proudly as he just opened a Chocolate Frog box and found a card with Dumbledore on it inside. When they were talking, the trolley lady had come by and since Ron's lunch consisted of a couple of sandwiches that were glued together in one congealed lump and they were both interested in the candy the lady was selling, they'd bought some. Well, Harry bought some, but he remembered the times too vividly when he was forced to watch hungrily when Dudley was stuffing his mouth full of chocolate, while his stomach was completely empty to not offer any to Ron, who gladly accepted it. The frog, however, had looked up at Harry, squawked once, and jumped away onto the window where it disappeared through an open ventilation slot.

"I've got him 12 times already. He's not really rare, but it's a nice enough card. Look at the back. There's some information about him on there," Ron told him.

"What does it say?"

Harry turned the card around and read aloud, "Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling."

"Does it really say that?" Ron asked. "I didn't know that. Let me see."

Harry handed the card over to Ron, who looked at it interestedly. Then the door of the compartment opened once again. This time, three boys entered: the pale blonde boy Harry recognised from Madam Malkin's, who was flanked by two heavier and taller boys. The boy in the middle looked with interest at Harry instead of the casual attitude he'd had at Madam Malkin's. Harry felt a sense of dread come over him.

"So it's true what they say, then? That Harry Potter's in this compartment? That must be you then," he said, nodding at Harry.

Had it been any other person, Harry might have said nothing, since it would be highly probable that they wanted to meet the famous Boy-Who-Lived. But the way the blonde boy phrased the question, he made it sound as if it was a bad thing to be Harry Potter. So, defensively and quickly, Harry replied, "Yes."

"I'm Draco Malfoy. These are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle," Draco said, pointing with his thumbs to the boys on either side of him. "And let's see," he said, shifting his gaze towards Ron. "Red-haired, freckles, tatty clothes? You must be a Weasley," Malfoy sneered.
Ron didn't say anything, but he looked angrily at Malfoy.

"What've you got there, Weasley?" the blonde asked. It was not so much a question as an expression of interest as the boy reached out and took the Chocolate Frog card from Ron before Ron could do anything about it.

"Dumbledore?" Malfoy scoffed, then laughed. "Dumbledore? I seriously hope Weasley here hasn't been telling you to look up to that forgetful old coot, Potter. He's a disaster for the school." He looked at Harry, perhaps waiting for a response from him, but Harry didn't say anything. He already didn't like Malfoy since their meeting in Madam Malkin's and he disliked him even more for barging into their compartment, acting arrogantly and talking Ron down.

"Anyway," Malfoy said, breaking the silence. "This is going to be our first year at Hogwarts. Your first year," he stressed. "You don't want to be hanging around in the company of the wrong sort, if you know what I mean," he said with a jerk of his head to Ron. "Come with us."

Malfoy extended his hand. Harry looked at it and briefly reflected on the strangeness of the situation. A boy whom he had never properly met before expected him to leave the friend he'd just made? A boy who was arrogant and entitled and was totally unaware of it? Fat chance he'd shake that boy's hand.

"No, thank you. I can tell the wrong sort for myself."

Harry kept looking at Malfoy's face. At first his expression was that of surprise, then it changed into confusion, and then it settled into anger. He pulled back his hand.

"You just made a very big mistake, Potter," the boy said in a threatening near-whisper. "Choosing to associate with some filthy blood-traitors like Weasley here. We'll see who will win in the end." With that, Malfoy turned on his heel and left. Crabbe and Goyle levelled angry glares at Harry, before they, too, turned around and left the compartment, the door sliding shut behind them.

After an uncomfortable silence, Harry asked Ron: "So, Malfoy seemed to know you. Do you know him?"
"That's Malfoy, alright, the bloody annoying git," Ron growled. "His father's Lucius Malfoy. He works at the Ministry, though fortunately in a different department from my dad's. It's an open secret he worked for You-Know-Who during the war."
"Malfoy's dad worked for Voldemort?!" It took Harry by surprise that the boy he had met at Madam Malkin's and whose handshake he had just refused, was the son of someone who had worked for the person who wanted to kill him. Not only that, but it surprised Harry even more to hear that Malfoy's father worked at the Ministry and wasn't in prison.

"Don't say his name!" Ron hissed.

"Sorry," Harry said bashfully. "I forgot."

"But yes," Ron continued, "He worked for You-Know-Who. My dad says he didn't need a reason to turn dark. The only reason he avoided being locked up in Azkaban was that he claimed that he didn't do anything; that You-Know-Who was controlling him."

"But that's an obvious lie!" Harry said.

"I think so too, but You-Know-Who was known to use such spells to control other people to do his bidding, and the Wizengamot couldn't prove that he wasn't under the control of such a spell at that time, so he went free," Ron finished with a sigh.

"What's Azkaban? And what's the Wizengamot?" Harry asked.

"Azkaban is the magical prison. It's where the really bad people go. Some of You-Know-Who's followers are imprisoned there. The ones that were caught, anyways. The Wizengamot is political. The Wizengamot members decide about the laws for magical Britain. They are also the highest court to sentence criminals or decide that people are innocent. Mostly, nothing new happens in the Wizengamot. Most of the seats are held by old pureblood families who don't want things to change. My dad complains about it a lot. For his work, but also outside of it, he's interested in muggles. Says the Wizengamot should implement laws to make it easier to integrate muggleborns into the magical world. Magical children of muggle parents, that is. Did you know that term?"

Harry shook his head. "No. So purebloods then are…" he didn't finish his question, unsure of how to phrase it. "They're magical children with all of their parents and grandparents being no muggles or muggleborns. A lot of purebloods got killed in the war, on both sides. There's still a fair few of them, but less than before."

"So Malfoy…" Harry began, and Ron answered him immediately, "Is a pureblood. But he's the worst kind of pureblood. He believes only purebloods should be in charge of the government and that all others should obey their orders. A lot of purebloods think that way, but there are also pureblood families who think all magical people should have equal rights, like my family," Ron told him proudly.

"So when Malfoy said we would see which side will win, he meant the conflict between the purebloods and the others?"
"Some of them believe You-Know-Who will return," Ron told him. "And when he does, they believe he will take over the government and make sure only purebloods have rights." As he said this, Ron looked fearful and Harry couldn't help but feel the same. "I hope he doesn't return," was all he managed to say.

"What House do you think you're going to be in?" Ron asked Harry. They had abandoned the topic of purebloods some time ago and had now returned to discussing the Hogwarts Houses. Harry considered his answer. "Well, Gryffindor's nice. But I have been reading the school books quite a lot, so I could be a Ravenclaw, I suppose. But perhaps I'm going to be a Hufflepuff. I mean, who knows…"

"But definitely not Slytherin, right?" Ron interrupted him.

Before he could answer, the door of the compartment slid open and a girl appeared in the doorway. She had brown, bushy hair and quite large front teeth. "Has anyone seen a toad? A boy called Neville has lost one."

Harry and Ron shared a bewildered look, before looking at the girl again and shaking their heads.

"Oh my God! You're Harry Potter!" the girl exclaimed excitedly. "Everybody said you'd be in this compartment and now here you are! I'm Hermione Granger. I know everything about you. I've read a few extra books for background reading and you're in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. Do you remember anything of what happened that night that You-Know-Who attacked you? Anything at all? Do you have any theories as to what might have happened? And do you still have that scar?"

"STOP!" Harry yelled all of a sudden. Everything happened really fast since the girl, Hermione Granger, had entered their compartment. She said she'd been looking for a boy's toad, but she seemed awestruck by him and couldn't stop telling him things about himself and asking him loads of questions. She'd also said everybody was saying he was in this compartment. Harry doubted she was actually looking for a toad and had come straight to the compartment as soon as she'd learned he was there.

Harry had met many witches and wizards since his introduction into the wizarding world, and many of them knew Harry as the Boy-Who-Lived, but none were so annoying as the girl right in front of him. Most people just stared at him or remarked he was the Boy-Who-Lived or whispered and talked excitedly among each other whenever he passed by, all of which happened many times when he was in Diagon Alley with Hagrid. And even though it was annoying, they mostly took to themselves. But Granger had actively sought him out and bombarded him with questions. She confronted him with his fame and if anything, she elevated him to a higher level of it. He found it deeply annoying.

"Don't ask me any questions! I don't want to hear them!"

The girl faltered for a moment, stunned by his unexpected reaction. "But… But you're Harry Potter. You're the most famous…"

"I said stop! Just stop it! I don't care about all of that stuff!"

Harry's sudden flash of anger seemed to stop the girl in her tracks. For a moment she just stood there in the compartment, her face a mix of unexpectedness and confusion.

Suddenly, she looked quite annoyed. "You know, you should be proud of who you are. You defeated the Dark Lord! If only you'd care to tell us about it, you could be the first survivor of the Killing Curse to be able to give a real, first-hand account of…"

"What's going on here? I heard shouting," a dark-haired boy said. He stood in the doorframe and looked with a raised eyebrow at the three of them. He had an angular face, blue eyes, and his dark hair was parted somewhat to the side which made him look quite elegant. He looked to be around their age.

Since nobody answered him, Harry took the lead. "Nothing. She… just came in and started asking me questions." After a second, he added: "But she was annoying me." Harry didn't really know how to tell the boy what happened, but the way he'd described it, it sounded like he easily took offence to mere simple questions.
"Ah, I see what happened," the boy said. "You're Harry Potter, of course. The whole train is talking about you." Harry felt dread coming over him again as he imagined the boy to be the same as Granger.

"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Nott. Theodore Nott. This is going to be my first year at Hogwarts as well," the boy said, extending his hand to Harry, which Harry shook.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said. The boy smiled and nodded, knowing that it wasn't necessary for Harry to introduce himself, but grateful for it anyway. After they shook hands, Nott turned his attention to Granger. "And you are…?" Harry couldn't help but notice how he approached Granger much less kindly than him. "Hermione Granger," the girl answered Nott in a small voice. Nott nodded to himself, as if he had just confirmed the information was correct even though this was the first time he met the girl. "So, Granger… don't you think it's a little rude to intrude upon Potter and ask him questions about his past that he might not be comfortable talking about?"

It was obvious the question didn't need a response from the girl, who also didn't give one, albeit for the very different reason she was stumped to be lectured by an unknown boy who was supposedly in the same year as she. "I thought so," Nott said, taking Granger's silence for agreement. "I think it's best if you leave now." All the boys looked expectantly at Granger, who eventually found her composure again. "But…" she started, but was immediately interrupted by Nott. "Or do you want me to get the prefects to escort you out?" he asked her.

For a brief second, the girl looked scared but she changed her expression into an angry scowl before she left the compartment, not saying another word.

"So, that's better, isn't it?" said Nott. Harry was momentarily lost for words. He was surprised at what had just happened. How Nott, who had only introduced himself mere seconds ago, had come into the compartment, had come to his aid and made Granger stop fawning over him and made her leave the compartment. He quickly thought of something to say. "Thanks a lot. She really got on my nerves."

"Yeah… oh, well…" Nott sighed.

"What is it?"

"She's going to be sorted into Ravenclaw… I know her type well."

Harry was confused. "And… that's bad?" he asked tentatively.
"It is," Nott confirmed, "because I'm going to be sorted into Ravenclaw as well and I don't like people showing off their knowledge like she did."

Harry understood what he meant, but he was still a little unsure about what Nott said. "How do you know you're going to be a Ravenclaw?"

"Because I love books," the boy answered plainly. "I'm drawn to them like a moth to a flame. If I'm not going to be sorted into Ravenclaw, then something is terribly wrong with the sorting system. Anyway, I should be going. It was a pleasure to meet you." With a quick nod to Harry, Nott turned around and without saying goodbye to Ron, went for the compartment door.

"Nott, what are you doing here?" Harry heard a girl say. Nott slid the door further open for his exit and Harry could see two girls of around their age standing in the corridor. One of them glimpsed inside, caught sight of Harry, scrunched up her face and asked Nott: "And why are you talking to Potter?" Nott looked back at Harry before answering and said: "I know why you're asking me this and while I agree that purebloods are better, we shouldn't be so quick to disregard half-bloods altogether," he said to the girl. "Anyway," Nott said, addressing Harry again, "I have to go. I'll see you later." With that, Nott finally exited the compartment and the door slid shut behind him, covering Nott and the two girls from view.

"Well, Nott's nice enough, don't you think?" Harry tried to bring new life to their conversation after Granger had entered their compartment and disrupted it.
"You think?" Ron scoffed. He was looking sour and stared gloomily at some point on the ground near Harry's feet. "Yeah, he was nice. Very nice, the slimy git. Didn't even introduce himself to me. He didn't even give me so much as a nod when he left! Yeah, really nice."

Harry didn't know how to answer Ron's comment. He felt it was wrong of Ron to insult Nott after he helped them with Granger while he was being perfectly nice. But Harry also didn't want to point that out to Ron and get into an argument with him. Instead, he chose to say nothing and after a while, when the silence in the compartment became too oppressing, he told Ron: "I'm going to check when we're going to arrive."

After he'd left the compartment, Harry started walking down the corridor of the train. He could see more hillside terrain outside. More wild nature and hills and mountains in the background. He had just entered another train carriage when a boy walked into him.

"Hey!" Harry said, a bit indignantly.

"Oh, sorry!" the boy said. The apology sounded sincere, but the boy was looking frantically around him towards the ground and turned multiple times to check whether he hadn't missed anything. After some time, during which Harry looked puzzled, the boy froze on the spot, suddenly realising Harry was still there, looking at him. "Are you alright?" he asked tentatively. Harry wasn't sure whether the boy asked the question because he meant it or because the boy assumed Harry was going to continue standing there until the boy asked him if he was alright. Harry thought the latter was the case, since significant time had passed between the initial apology and the question, surely indicating the boy could care less.

"Yes, I'm fine," Harry answered, a hint of irritation in his voice. "What are you doing, anyway?"
"I lost my toad! I'm looking for him," the boy replied in a voice close to despair.

Harry remembered the Granger girl saying that she was helping a boy, Neville, look for his toad. Apparently, she had told the truth, which meant she hadn't gone straight for his compartment to bombard him with questions. Harry also remembered that that had happened some time ago and that Neville was apparently still looking for his pet toad. Apparently the boy had been looking for it for almost the entire train ride and was starting to worry that he might not find it before they would arrive.

"Didn't you leave your toad locked in a cage?" Harry asked the boy.
"Well, I did, but the cage is old and the bars are rusty, so the lock broke and my toad escaped!"
Harry didn't know whether to believe Neville's story or not. He hadn't heard such a bizarre story before, but on the other hand, if the story was true, then Harry couldn't help but feel the fault lay with Neville himself. Who would take a pet with him on a journey if the cage couldn't keep the animal safe?

A couple of doors in the train carriage opened ahead of Harry and he saw students coming out of their compartments, walking towards the luggage area near the doors that opened to the outside of the train where the students had boarded. The students appeared a little older than Harry. They reached up for their luggage that was stored on the racks high up against the walls and made way for others to do the same. He saw them getting out their Hogwarts robes and putting them on over their normal clothes.

"Oh, where are you, Trevor?!" Neville called out desperately. Harry, realising he was still standing there with Neville in front of him, bending down and almost on his knees to be able to spot Trevor, decided he should head back to Ron. "Well, you'd better find your toad before we arrive. Apparently we're nearly there."

Harry turned around and went back. When he entered the compartment, he found Ron in much the same mood as when he left. "You'd better change into your Hogwarts robes, Ron. We're almost there."

A/N Thanks for reading our very first chapter of our Harry Potter rewrite! As I'm writing this author's note - which I'm doing after this chapter's already been uploaded because I'm still figuring out how FFNet works - this chapter has already been read by 56 of you, followed by 6, and favourited by 4. I want to express my immense thanks to you, readers! It is such a blast to be able to finally post a story for people to read after you've written that story with that specific goal in mind. It makes me happy to think that, just maybe, your day has become a little bit better after you've read this chapter.

We're very excited to know what you think of this chapter. Please let us know your thoughts in the comments! Feedback is always welcome! Our aim is to upload a chapter every two weeks. The next installment will be uploaded around December 3rd. Until the next one!