Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or any of it's characters. If I did, I wouldn't resort to fan fiction to get my kicks out. All belong to JK Rowling.

A/N: This is the first chapter of part two, and there will be several more after. I was going to combine this chapter with the next, but the next will probably be about 5,000 words long without the 3300 this one is. I will try to post that one soon. Sorry if my descriptions of London are inaccurate in this chapter, but more so in later ones. I've never been there. I'm not sure if you can really take a train from Surrey to London, but I decided to roll with the idea anyways.

Thanks to all those who read last time! I got a total of 15 notifications that people have added this to their story alert which is more than I've ever gotten after one chapter, so thanks! Special thanks to SilverBlood7884 for reviewing!

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Enjoy!

Part Two: The Opening of the Curtains

~1~

Start of Something New

Harry watched the world whizz by him as he sat on the express train, looking out the small window from his compartment. His eyes raked over the vast green countryside of Surrey they passed, committing it to memory before he arrived in the loud, industrialized city. He had only ever been to London once in his life when he was ten. Vernon's cousin had come in on the train from Scotland and he had brought the whole family with him, including Harry who they didn't trust enough to leave alone in the house. Harry hadn't seen much of the city that day, only the train station and the glimpses he caught outside the car windows, but he had been certain from that day on that he wanted to go back. He had only read and dreamed of the city life, but now he was ready to actually live it.

He tore his eyes away from the window, running a hand through his messy dark locks in an effort to smooth them down. No matter how many times he combed it down or how much gel he used, his hair would still find a way to stick up all over the place. It was rather frustrating and tiresome, but after eighteen years, Harry had gotten used to it. Besides, some men liked other men with messy hair, or so Harry told himself. At least Christian did…

Christian. At the thought of his friend's name, he felt the weight of anxiety roll in his gut. To say Harry was nervous would be an understatement. He was about as close to freaking out as one could be. He was off to a place he had only been to once in his life and where he knew no one. Not to mention he would be going to school with some of the top art students in the world, competing with them to fulfill his dream of becoming a successful and profound actor. It was all a lot of pressure for Harry and he only hoped he wouldn't crack. It would be a huge adjustment for him and he would have to work harder than he ever had in his life, even harder than when Vernon made him made him drag all the new furniture into the house as a young, weak child of eleven.

Harry felt the train begin to slow down beneath him and he looked out the window to see that they were slowly approaching King's Cross Station in London. With a deep calming breath, he began to gather his baggage together to depart from the train when it came to a full and complete stop.

After taking one step off the train, Harry took one look around the bustling train station and whispered to himself, "Well, here it goes. It's now or never."

"Where to?" asked the rugged looking taxi driver crankily as he leaned out his car window outside of King's Cross Station.

"Hogwarts School of the Arts," replied Harry, trying to sound somewhat friendly to the grumpy man.

The man didn't seem to take notice of Harry's pleasant smile as he just brought his head back into the vehicle and barked, "Get in then."

Harry obeyed and soon they were off in the direction of the school under the warm, afternoon sunshine. Harry kept his gaze out the window, taking in all of the buildings, shops, signs, cars, and people. He couldn't wait to get out and start exploring the city himself. He hoped he would have a chance before classes started in a few days.

After a few minutes of silence in the taxi, the driver spoke up. "So, you a new student at this school?"

Harry brought his attention away from the window and to the man in the front seat. "Yeah, it's my first year."

Harry watched the back of his driver's head nod and listened as he continued on in conversation. "What major you taking up?"

"Theatre and acting," Harry replied politely, noticing how his driver now seemed a bit friendlier than when Harry first entered the car.

The man nodded again, his brown eyes glancing into the rearview mirror to meet Harry's. "Nice. You from around here?"

"Yeah, Surrey; I've lived there all my life."

"Ah, I know it well," the driver said with a smile, his eyes focused back on the road now, swerving through lanes of traffic. "I was raised there myself. What part you from?"

"Little Whinging," Harry answered, feeling at ease with the man, "just a small little town." It felt weird to communicate to someone else where he was from. He had never been out of Little Whinging. Usually he would be the one asking others where they had come from, ogling at all of their travels in envy.

"Sure, sure, I know it," the driver replied cheerfully while he pressed down on the brake pedal a little too hard that Harry was flung forward. " I've been there a few times. Never thought that someone from a place like that would be coming to a school like this."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked skeptically with narrowed eyes.

"I just mean that the students that go to this school come from all over—Japan, Australia, America, and all over Europe," he explained, using one of his hands to talk while the other rested on the wheel. "They're all pretty much established actors and artists or whatever, having performed in some of the best venues all over the world and attended some of the best schools." In the back seat, Harry nodded in agreement. He was told by his friends how successful some of his classmates already were. "You must have had pretty rich parents who enrolled you in those schools early on," the man commented thoughtfully.

"Not in the slightest, I'm afraid," Harry admitted with a slight grimace. If the driver only knew how he really grew up. If what he was saying was true, then it would seem like some miracle that Harry had actually gotten in at all and the prospect of that seemed to make his stomach do even more somersaults.

"Really?" the driver asked in disbelief. "Then if you don't mind me asking, how the hell did you get in? I hear they don't offer a lot of spots to locals."

"One of the admissions counselors of the school came to a play I was doing at a local theatre," Harry began after a moment's hesitation, though what did he really have to hide or be ashamed of. He would probably have to tell this same story over and over again to his fellow classmates. "They saw my age in the program and told me to apply to the school if I was interested in a career in theatre. I did and then a representative of the theatre department of the school came to my local theatre and asked me to audition with a soliloquy from a play and a song from a musical. I did both and they basically let me in on the basis that I had a lot of natural talent, despite my less than impressive experience."

"Wow, well that's mighty great for you," the man said in surprised amusement, "Seems as if you'll be getting your huge break!"

"I guess," Harry stuttered, "I mean, I hope so." It was hard for Harry to imagine himself ever living a life that would be full of such reward and what he wanted most. He almost didn't believe that it would ever come true. Surely there would be many people far more talented than him.

The taxi cab lapsed into silence again and Harry's green orbs drifted back to the window. He noticed that they had escaped much of the industrialized part of London and were heading down a much more peaceful and relaxed setting. The area around them seemed more like the countryside, obviously on the outskirts of London. They drove down cobblestone streets, past quaint little shops and restaurants.

At the end of the row of shops, the road began to curve until they were passing vast green hills, trees, and a lake. And then, the car began approaching a wrought iron gate, as tall as the oak trees on either side of it. The driver got out of the car to push a buzzard on the locked gates, and then suddenly, they began to open automatically as if by magic.

The driver got back into the car and started driving up a hill on a stone path, until finally they reached a giant medieval castle. It towered over the village down below and appeared as if it belonged in a King Arthur or fairy tale princess film rather than outside the capitol of England. Harry felt silly sitting inside the taxi, feeling as though he should be arriving in a horse-drawn carriage. As they neared the end of the driveway, the driver parked right next to the front stairwell, behind a couple of other luxurious cars and limousines.

"Well here you are," the taxi driver said cheerfully, turning around to meet a very intimidated Harry.

"Thanks," Harry managed to stutter, unable to take his eyes off the castle looming in front of him. Finally, he was able to move his stiff legs enough to get out of the car and unload his trunk and rucksack. He went around to the side of the car to hand the driver his payment.

"See you around kid," the man replied happily, accepting the money. He started the car and with a shout of 'good luck', he was off.

Harry turned to face the castle again, still gaping at it open mouthed. What am I getting myself into, he thought. He didn't know how he could ever fit in a place like this. He heard the words of his taxi driver repeated in his head, making his anxiety reach an all time high. He felt his stomach clench as if he were going to be sick from nerves. With a shaky exhaled breath, he put his foot forward and began to stumble up the stairs to the giant castle that awaited him…

As soon as Harry opened the door to the Entrance Hall, he was overcome by the loud noise of hundreds of people scurrying about. The foyer was huge; probably the same square footage as number 4 Privet Drive. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and stain glass windows lined the walls. A grand marble staircase lay on one side of the room and one on the opposite side leading down. Two ornate wooden doors were at the far center of the room, closing off the room to whatever wonders lay behind it.

All around Harry were other students with their trunks and bags, saying hello to other students or kissing and hugging their parents goodbye. For a fleeting moment, Harry wondered what it would be like if his parents were still alive and dropping him off at school. Would they kiss and hug him goodbye?

His thoughts were disrupted when he noticed a tall, narrow, older woman coming towards him. Small squares glasses sat upon her crooked nose and a slight grin crossed her face. Harry recognized her as the woman who gave him his audition and the head of the theatre department at Hogwarts, Professor Minerva McGonagall.

The long skirt she wore billowed behind her as she approached him. "Mr. Potter, so nice to see you," she said as she came to stand in front of him.

"Nice to see you as well," Harry stammered, a bit intimidated by the woman who had had a long, outstanding career in the world of theatre from Broadway to West End productions. "How did you remember my name?" he questioned a little surprised that she had. He didn't think he stood out that much.

"I remember all of the students we admit to this school," she explained in tone that suggested it was not to be debated. Harry simply nodded and flashed her a tight smile to meet the smirk that now bloomed across her own face. "I came over to tell you that the other freshman students are gathering by the grand staircase and we would like you to join them," she continued in a business-like voice, "You can put your baggage in the far corner of the room with the others. They will be deposited into your dorm by the staff here at Hogwarts."

"Thank you," Harry muttered graciously, giving her another small, nervous smile before heading over to put his trunk down and then gathering with the other freshman.

As Harry emerged upon the group of about fifty freshmen by the staircase, he was dismayed to notice that none of them appeared to be as anxious and uneasy as he was. On the contrary, they were all bubbling with excitement, eagerly chit chatting with one another. Harry stood on the outside of the group, watching all of them in expensive clothing interact with one another. Already he felt like an outsider.

Until, one girl came up to his side, a bright, friendly smile on her face. "Hello, are you a new student here to?"

Harry turned towards her, meeting her chocolate eyes and frizzy brunette hair with his emerald orbs and dark locks. "Er…yeah," he mumbled, looking down at his worn trainers.

"Thought so," she said cheerfully, letting out a light chuckle, "you seemed a bit lost."

Harry's face turned red in embarrassment at the fact that this girl could already tell he didn't know what he was doing. Great!

Sensing his discomfort and timidity, she moved onto a new topic of introducing herself with a held out hand. "Well, I'm Hermione Granger."

Harry looked up from the floor then to meet her welcoming smile, tentatively shaking her delicate hand. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you Harry," she said vivaciously, dropping his hand gently.

"You as well." Harry attempted to give her a genuine smile of his own, expressing his gratitude for her coming over to talk to him.

"So what are planning on majoring in here?" Hermione asked in authentic curiosity.

Though he was hesitant at first to answer her question, wary of her reaction to his answer, Harry was really just happy that someone was nice enough to attempt to make conversation with him. "Um…theatre," he muttered.

"Oh that's great!" Hermione exclaimed, clapping her hands together in exuberance. "I'm majoring in that as well. We'll probably have classes together."

"Yeah, that'd be great," Harry said, letting the girl's infectious smile overtake him. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad. It seemed as if he had already met one friend.

And then, a question of his past came up. "Where are you from?" she asked politely, but not hiding her curiosity.

So much for having a friend, Harry thought. She'll turn right around as soon as she figures out I don't come from a family with a lot of money and I didn't go to a fancy art school. "Um," Harry started hesitantly, looking down at his trainers again in distress, "Little Whinging, Surrey."

She seemed to take that in for a moment before saying with a nod, "Yes, I believe I know where that is. It's a small town not too far from London right?"

"Er, yeah," Harry mumbled, "So where are you from?"

"Well," Hermione started and Harry could already tell it would be a long tale that would far surpass his experiences. "I was born here in London. Both of my parents were involved in the theatre here; my mum a choreographer for a few West End shows and my dad a casting director. I started dancing here when I was little, but we had to move to Paris when I was six because my mum got a great job offer to be a choreographer for an esteemed ballet company there. I had always been around the theatre when I was little and I guess that's how I picked up a love for it. I enrolled in an acting school while in Paris and took singing lessons as well. I became a member of a theatre company and started doing many plays and musicals, many of which were in French. I went to an art school there for high school and then decided to come here for college to get a degree in theatre."

Harry could only stare at her in astonishment. To say the girl had great experience in the world of theatre would be an understatement. She had been exposed to it since she was baby. If this is what her life had been like, what could the rest of the student's lives have been like before coming here? One could only imagine. "Wow," Harry began, not hiding his awe, "That's awesome."

"Thanks," she replied flashing a proud smile. "So how did you become involved in acting?"

"Oh," Harry stuttered tentatively, looking back down to the floor in humiliation. "I didn't start till I was in high school and just did some local productions; nothing big."

She didn't seem at all surprised by this nor disgusted. Instead, she only nodded her head and said thoughtfully, "Oh, I didn't know they even had theatres in Little Whinging. That's great! So, what are your ambitions?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in puzzlement.

"I mean like where you want to be in life in ten years, kind of thing. What are your hopes after graduating from here?"

Harry honestly wasn't quite sure. He never really thought about it too much. Theatre and acting had always been just a way for him to escape from his reality. It offered him a sort of comfort that he never received at home. With acting, he could become whatever character he wanted to be, escaping the small, lonely boy named Harry. He had just chosen theatre as a major because it was something he loved to do and couldn't picture himself doing anything else. "Well, I guess I just want to become a professional actor and go from there. How about you?

This seemed to be the question Hermione was waiting for, for she jumped into her tale with bubbling excitement. "I definitely want to stay in the world of theatre and not go anywhere near the film industry. I know a lot of students here go on to that or have started there, but that world just isn't for me. My dream is to become a performer on the West End and on Broadway. I know many actors don't make it that far, but my hope is that I can become one who does. I'll probably start by auditioning for national tours of musicals or working on a few plays in London in the hopes that those will get me closer to the West End and then to Broadway."

Harry could only stare at her in despair. She had a whole life plan of where she wanted to be, and from what he noticed of this girl so far, he could bet his life on it that she would end up accomplishing her whole plan. Harry, on the other hand, was probably lucky if he even graduated and made it through a year with these people. Once again, Harry got the feeling that he didn't belong here.

He turned to see the great wooden doors at the far end of the room opening to the Great Hall and staff members ushering the group of freshman inside. Hermione turned to grab his arm to lead him with her and he could only trudge along hopelessly, looking up at the giant room they were now entering in awe. Despite the overwhelming amount of people in the room and Hermione's gentle hand on his arm, leading him, Harry couldn't help but feel completely and utterly alone and lost. How would he ever survive this place…?

Thanks for reading! Draco will be coming in next chapter, so stay tuned...

Please review and let me know what you think! It also gives me more incentive to write! I'm still trying to think of a new title. I'm not completely satisfied with this one, so let me know if you have any good suggestions!

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**14 days till Deathly Hallows Part 2!**