An eleven-year-old Theodore Nott stood patiently waiting amidst the thrum of September activity on platform nine and three quarters. All around him scores of distraught parents hugged their children goodbye, owls hooted from inside their cages, and smaller children not quite old enough wailed against their mum's knees.

"I want to go! But why does heeeee get to go?"

From all sides extreme emotions zigged around at lightning speed until the last call onboard. The conductor's boisterous yell that officially signaled the end of the goodbyes, and yet while others cried Theodore didn't. Looking around he supposed he should have experienced a similar sentimental pang of loss, but oddly enough all he felt was pure relief.

"I best be off then." he told his parents, grasping tighter to the owl cage in his right hand.

Mindful of the audience around dissecting their every move Dahlia Nott, and her elder husband Prometheus each gave their son a short hug. Both lacking in true affection, but holding on long enough to whisper in his ear, "Remember to make the right friends."

So none of those tricky muggles then eh?

Barely containing a sour face Theodore nodded in understanding, shaking his father's wrinkled hand one last time, and then he never looked back. First too excited to get on the train, and then stuck mesmerized by a tall boy dashing by. He had a wicked smirk; a flash of pearly white perfection that widened as the boy shouted to his mother,

"I'm not sending one letter if you forget to send me the new trainers coming out next week!"

"Mind yourself Blaise." the gorgeous witch called back warily, shaking her head as the dark-skinned boy laughed. Actual mischief, and a streak of the devil lighting up in his exotic slanting eyes as he disappeared inside the train.

It was only the briefest moment.

An infinitesimally tiny blip in the history of the world, but Theodore froze in place.

Watching with parted lips, and trying desperately to catalogue everything good about the moment he spotted the boy so unlike the others. Cocky and gangly he should have immediately rubbed Theodore the wrong way, but he didn't. Not even when everything about his mannerisms read too loud, brash, and showy, and he didn't appear at all like a person his father might consider the right friend.

I'm going to know that boy.

I just know it.

Hmm, I wonder where he'll sit? No doubt meeting up with his mates, he looks like the sort to have a bunch of loud close mates.

Without understanding why Theodore followed the other boy, staring at the back of this unknown Blaise until he stepped into an empty car. Outside the door Theodore chewed his lower lip, weighing his options as he considered what to do, and he couldn't make up his mind. On one hand meeting new people made him anxious, but on the other hand the stranger looked like he knew how to have a bit of fun. Up to that point Theodore's life had seriously lacked in fun, and he figured he deserved a smidge, but ultimately the nagging fear of rejection kept him planted in place.

At least until he felt a harsh tug on his arm, and he looked up into a familiar face. "Eh, Theo. Are you going in or not?"

Unfortunately, staring back at him was one of his least favorite cousins. The girl with a nose curved up high enough to keep on the same level of her ego who loudly repeated, "Have you gone dumb then? Are you in or out."

"Hello Pansy. I uh, yeah I guess I'm in."

"Well stop standing around like a weirdo then." One unforgivingly hard shove later Theodore stumbled into the car. Eyes wide with embarrassment when the boy from earlier looked up from running his wand up and down the seat.

Awkwardly fumbling around like a buffoon wasn't exactly the introduction Theodore had in mind, but there was no use moaning about it either. Standing up straight he nodded his head, and recovered his learned grace. "Theodore Nott, and this is my cousin Pansy Parkinson."

"Right, I'm Blaise Zabini."

At the sound of his name Pansy's eyes grew about two sizes, and her mouth dropped. "Zabini? Doesn't that mean your mum-"

"Is a poor recent widow again, yes." Blaise cut in, expression hardened with a dare to correct him look. "We're all quite sad."

"I see." Pansy smiled back, fearlessly sitting beside Blaise as Theo stood with his back against the door.

Hmm, well if Pans knows him then it means he's likely not a muggle born, or a blood traitor. That family is like a niffler for the horribly un-pure. So I reckon it's safe to sit down.

Go on then, sit down. Act normal.

With a loud huff Pansy cast her belongings carelessly down on the ground, and it turned out that sitting down gracefully across from Blaise was no easy task, but an up to the challenge Theo managed well enough. Crossing over without wobbling once he carefully set his owl's cage beside him. Pausing a moment to gently stroke the soft tawny colored fluff through the gold bars, reassuring his owl Perseus who looked on unconcerned. Ruffling his feathers the bird settled in for a long sleep, closing his massive eyes with a dignified hoot. The familiar sound calmed Theo, and when he sat back against the booth he discovered Blaise watching him.

Lips curled up curiously. "Is he yours then? What's his name?"

"Perseus of Macedon."

Blaise snorted. "Oh yeah, I can see why you called him that. Something about his feathers is very Macedonian isn't it?"

Theodore laughed. "Shut up."

"No, I mean he's very noble." Blaise's lips twitched with mirth, and he nodded his head solemnly."Is that like the name of some nutty ruler or something?"

"Yeah, paranoid Perseus was afraid his brother Demetrius might turn friendly with the Romans and usurp his power. So he convinced their dim dad that Demetrius was a traitor, and his father executed him."

"Oh, sounds like a lovely fellow. I'm sure he's quite pleased to have a tiny owl as his legacy."

To look properly miffed for the sake of his owl's dignity Theo turned away quickly, but it was no use. In seconds flat he burst into a fit of giggles that Blaise joined on in. Both of them laughing to tears while an unimpressed Pansy scowled. Rolling her eyes at the boys while shoving a piece of chocolate into her mouth.

"Ugh, I can't believe you two are going on about owls and murder, and the bloody Boy Who Lived is on the train!"

"What?" Blaise's face sobered up instantly."Harry Potter?"

"Mmmhmm." Pansy grinned, licking her finger clean. "Bet your dad will just love that, huh Theo?"

"Reckon he's not getting sorted into Slytherin so no chance of us seeing much of each other anyway. Who cares really?"

"He's the Boy that Lived!" Pansy shrieked. "Everybody cares."

"Not me." a whining voice chimed in from behind, and they all looked over. Standing in the doorway a frustratingly proud Draco Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest. He was smirking as usual with a couple of lackies already standing watch behind him, and Theo wasn't the least bit surprised.

Oh, goodie. I'd been wondering what Draco's been into for the past year. No doubt he'll regale us all for the next two hours with his thrilling stories involving kicking around frogs from his pond, and sneering at muggles. Perfect time for a nap.

As much as Draco's dramatic entrance didn't faze Theo he wasn't surprised either when the rest of the group launched into anti-Harry Potter rhetoric. All of them gossiping in a cacophony of whispered slurs, and dirty jokes that Theo ignored as best he could. Alone in his thoughts Theodore supposed the honor of going to school with the legendary Harry Potter should have sparked his interest too, but it didn't. After growing up in a household constantly warning the young boy about who all to avoid Theo planned to join school with a clean slate. Keeping himself out of trouble, and not looking for it either.

Already seeing the lack of sense in rocking the boat.

War's over. Why can't anybody get past that yet?

As the train chugged on the boy kept to himself, and eventually the group's bickering droned into an annoying low hum that made Theodore grind his teeth, and sigh heavily against his window seat. Used to hanging out alone it was a tough adjustment to handle so much useless chatter so early in the morning. His head hurt, and it was harder still to listen to all the flimsy threats against somebody who hadn't earned his contempt yet.

After all, from what he'd read Harry Potter had done one special thing as a baby, but nothing particularly extraordinary ever sense.

Compared to some of the most intense wizard battles in history Theo thought it hardly seemed that impressive to have just sat there and been hit by a spell. Seemed a bit lazy to be honest, and so practical Theo resolved on the spot to refrain from hating wizards for anything they'd done before they'd learned how to walk.

I mean I could have just sat there too. How hard is it really to not move when you can't crawl, and somebody a billion times more experienced than you is pointing the wand?

Hardly seems like a wizard I should fear.

Also, a bit silly when all the pesky dying business could have been avoided simply by chucking the boy out the window. Sloppy wizardry all around that house if you ask me...

While practical Theo frowned over the startling lack of common sense in the world the green hill landscape passed by in a beautiful blur. Holding his robes closer to his body Theo stared outside, finding the view infinitely more interesting than all the "kick Harry's arse" talk coming from five versions of his dad in miniature form. Merlin, he would hate that comparison.

Smirking slyly to himself he rolled his eyes. Feeling foolish that for some reason he'd dreamed he could go a whole twenty minutes without hearing about blood, but so far this obviously wasn't the case.

"I'll shove his wand up his arse I will." Draco grumbled.

"As you should!" Pansy agreed, licking her lips after another chocolatey bite.

According to his father's wishes these were the "respectable" friends Theo was meant to have, but twenty minutes in he was antsy for new company. On any other day he would have up and left, but he stayed to hear more how Blaise felt. Already curious that the boy had initially shown interest in the gossip, but he hadn't joined in with the same enthusiasm for violence as Crabbe and Goyle. Rolling his wand across his knuckles Blaise barely paid attention, nodding occasionally, but he didn't call the others out either for getting excited over nothing.

Looking over quizzically at his newest acquaintance Theo tried to get a read on him, figure out what level of blood hating he resided at. He secretly hoped that Blaise might clock in somewhere under fanatical, but he was dragged out of his thoughts by Draco reaching the peak of his pompous posturing.

"Well father says that he can't be a Slytherin so there's no reason I can't kick his arse first chance I get."

Looking over his shoulder Theodore blinked. "Oh, your father's so positive that he won't be a Slytherin?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm, I had no idea Lucius had taken on acting as a sorting hat as a new career."

"What! No." Draco snapped. His pale lashes batting furiously, and across the car Blaise's lips quirked in amusement that he then hid quick enough when Draco sent Theo a withering glare. "Don't talk about my father."

"Yes, let's please not." Theo replied back cooly. Pleased to have manipulated towards the result he'd wanted all along he looked back out of the widow. Closing his eyes to the sound of Blaise's gentle laughter, and not minding it one bit.