(A/N: In this chapter: Action! Revenge! Harry with an actual backbone! And a lot of spilled candy. Sorry for the delay on this chapter, but I happened to lose my copy of Philosopher's Stone and couldn't find it for a long time...

Since it's been a while, a brief recap: Harry went to Diagon Alley, met Neville at Madame Malkin's, joined up with Hermione, and was told about Voldemort.)

HARRY POTTER and the ART of WING CHUN

6
into hogwarts

If anyone had told Harry that there was any such thing as three-quarters of a platform before he had met Wu Sifu, he might've called them 'barking mad' (as Vernon Dursley would have put it). However, after his visit to Diagon Alley, the idea of three-quarters of a platform felt quite ordinary. Even running through a dividing barrier to get to it hardly seemed peculiar.

He and Hermione were able to smoothly board the train, thanks to Wu Sifu's experience with Hogwarts. After bidding their respective guardians goodbye, they settled into a cozy compartment, ready for the long trip ahead.

"Would you—s'pose I could sit here? Everywhere else is full."

Both heads looked up. A tall, gangling redheaded boy stood in the compartment doorway, hair mussed and ears pink.

"You've got dirt on your nose," Hermione said.

Harry gently elbowed her in the ribs as the boy's expression began to darken. "It's fine," he said. "I'm Harry. How do you do?"

The boy took a seat, scrubbing wildly at his nose. "I'm Ron," he said, pointedly ignoring Hermione. "This is my first time. My family's all gone to Hogwarts, though. Except for Ginny, my little sister."

"This is our first time too," Harry said, and pulled at Hermione's arm.

"I'm Hermione," she said, but quite huffily.

"'Mione," Harry said.

"Well, I can't quite say it's nice to meet him," Hermione said.

"At least we can agree on something," Ron bit back.

Harry winced as Hermione and Ron fixed each other with piercing glares. "So… are all your family wizards?" he asked, attempting to get the situation under control.

"Er—yes, I think so," said Ron, turning his back to Hermione. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

Ron shrugged. "What about you?" he asked. "Got any siblings?"

"Um, not really. I live with non-wizards. Muggles, I think."

Ron started. "Muggles? Really? What are they like?"

Harry grimaced. "Horrible—well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had some wizard brothers or sisters."

Hermione's scowl, which had been darkening by the second, snapped into a very odd sort of wince. "Well then, I see that you two are getting along," she said dourly. "I s'pose I mustn't intrude, so I shall be off for a brief sojourn to the bathroom."

She grabbed her handbag and strutted from the compartment, slamming the door behind her with a little more force than was necessary. Harry watched her leave with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"She seems rather contrary," Ron said.

"'Mione's alright," Harry said quickly. "Perhaps she's not having a good day."

Ron snorted disbelievingly, but continued to tell Harry about his fascinating wizarding family. Harry tried to listen, but some small part of his mind nagged that he should've tried to get Hermione to stay.

::-::

It didn't take long for Harry and Ron to become good friends. Harry hadn't the chance to make friends with boys his age, and Ron's fresh normalcy was inviting. They easily shared food and sweets, chatting about moving pictures and Chocolate Frog cards as time slipped by.

There was an odd moment where a young girl stopped in front of his and Ron's compartment and stared straight at him, then down at a book titled Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, then promptly sprinted away. Harry tried to put the event out of his mind, but he didn't have much of a chance—only a few minutes passed before he got more visitors to his compartment.

There were three boys. The one in the center had a pale, pointed face and stood a bit stiffly, as if he had a rod taped all along his backside. The two companions on either side of him were thickset and looked extremely mean. It didn't take much to guess that they were bodyguards.

"They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment," the pale boy said. "So it's you, is it?"

"No," Ron said, while Harry said, "Yes."

Ron's eyes widened. "What? Where?" he said, and peered under the seats as if he was expecting Harry Potter to come crawling out.

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, realizing he hadn't revealed this little fact to Ron earlier.

Ron almost fell over.

The pale boy sneered at Ron. "Well, my father did warn me about the types that would be coming to Hogwarts. I suppose I should add brainless to one of them."

At that rude comment, Harry instantly took to analyzing the boy's bodyguards. Although their builds were threatening, they had bad posture and didn't seem to be too alert. He could easily take one down, at least.

The pale boy noticed where Harry was looking. "Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," he said carelessly. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron made a strange sound that was a mix between a chuckle and a cough. Malfoy veered to him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Ron's face reddened. "Look here—"

Malfoy turned back to Harry, ignoring Ron. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand. Harry stared at it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said.

Draco Malfoy's cheeks flushed the tiniest bit, and it was then when Harry saw past his little show. Malfoy was pathetically insecure, to the point where he found it necessary to enforce his self-worth upon everybody around him, demeaning them until he felt valuable. It was quite sad, really.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," Malfoy said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either."

All sympathy shattered.

"Say that again," Ron said, leaping to his feet. But Malfoy was staring at Harry.

Harry stood, slowly, and turned to Malfoy. His face was passive. Malfoy's was fixed with a sneer.

"What?" Malfoy said. "Can't you answer that?"

"I would," Harry said, "but the idea that a boy with no friends is trying to give me social advice is a bit laughable."

Malfoy's face whitened, while Ron's split into a grin. "W-well, maybe a boy with no parents should try listening to one that still has them!" Malfoy spat.

Harry's temper snapped. He seized the collar of Malfoy's cloak—Wu Sifu would cry at his form—about to throw him to the ground, but Crabbe swung a lightning-fast punch at his face. Harry raised his elbow, guiding it away, and swung Malfoy around to use as a shield between him and Goyle. Meanwhile, Ron lunged forward on Crabbe with a ferocious yell, knocking him to the ground. Unfortunately, Crabbe, being far larger and heavier, managed to toss him off without much trouble and pin him to the ground.

"So," Malfoy spat, "looks like we're tied."

"Haven't the slightest what you mean," Harry said, rattling Malfoy against the wall.

"It's easy, isn't it?" Malfoy said. "You let me go, and I let your riffraff Weasley go."

Strangely enough, the more vicious comments Malfoy tossed out, the less anger Harry felt. Malfoy was really just a kid. Fighting him felt like fighting a three-year-old that was throwing a tantrum.

"What, you're going to keep fighting?" Malfoy said. "Two on three? Now you're just acting like a dimwit, Potter."

Harry let Malfoy go, but he dropped to the ground and snapped two kicks at the backs of Crabbe and Goyle's knees. They heaved forward and he seized hold of Goyle's arm, dragging back his fingers in a painful hold until Golye collapsed on the ground, sniveling. Crabbe lashed out to him and he quickly blocked with both his hands, gently but firmly kneeing Crabbe in the stomach. He stood and turned to Malfoy, who was looking quite shaken up, having never seen his bodyguards dispatched so quickly.

"M-my father will hear about this," he said.

"Leave," Harry said. "And don't talk about my parents again."

Malfoy scrambled away, Crabbe and Goyle in his wake. Somehow, Harry knew that Malfoy wouldn't tattle quite yet. His pride was too damaged.

Just a few minutes later, Hermione popped in the door, looking much refreshed. Her mouth dropped agape at the signs of chaos in the compartment. "What has been going on?" she said, picking up one of the spilled Bertie Botts Every Color Beans.

Ron got to his feet, about to protest about Malfoy and his bullying, but Harry quickly shook his head at him. Frowning, Ron fell silent.

"We were trying to play a game," Harry said. "We accidentally knocked some candy over."

Hermione gave Ron a suspicious glare. He returned it indignantly. "Well, we must clean up. Perhaps you can get in trouble for littering."

"It's candy," Ron balked.

"And it's spilled in the cracks of the seats and all over the floor," Hermione said. "Cleanliness, Ron. We are nearly at Hogwarts, so we'd best get started."

Harry know that by we, Hermione actually meant you and Ron.

He sighed. "Yes, Hermione."

::-::

Meanwhile, things were not going brilliantly in the Dursley household.

Dudley had wanted to have his gang over, but the large squad of roaming police quickly cut out that idea. No matter how much he complained to his mum and dad, they refused to send the police away.

"They need to be able to look around, Duddy-dums," his mum said firmly. "Harry's gone off and we need to find him as soon as we can."

Dudley almost blew his top off. Harry! Harry Potter! Of course; it was always Harry's fault! But why were his parents looking for Harry? Blimey, did they actually like Harry? Did they want to treat him as their son, for real?

The sheer prospect had Dudley plopping on the floor and executing the most intense temper tantrum he'd had since yesterday. To his relief, Petunia moved quickly, trying to offer him chocolate and candies, and completely forgot about Harry. That was good. There was no need to remember Harry. Dudley was far more important than Harry.

"Ma'am?"

Petunia immediately stood, absentmindedly tossing the candies in her hand at Dudley. They hit him in the face, shocking him into silence. "Yes, officer," she said, almost breathlessly.

"No sign yet, Ma'am," said the officer, "but I have a brief question."

"Ask ahead, officer," Petunia said, and Dudley began to feel a worse temper tantrum brewing.

"What," the officer said, "is the meaning of this?"

He gestured toward Harry's cupboard under the stairs. Petunia's eyes widened.

"Oh—that's just where we keep the cat," she said hurriedly.

"There isn't a cat around here," the officer said, folding his arms. He suddenly looked quite menacing. "Why are there are blankets in that cupboard, Ma'am? Have you been forcing a child to sleep there?"

"No," Petunia gasped.

"Mummy's lying," Dudley said, in an unusual display of bitterness—but it was his Mummy's fault, his Mummy wasn't paying him any attention.

"DUDLEY!" Petunia shrieked.

The officer looked Dudley up and down. "Well, I can tell that it's not you," he said easily. He turned back to Petunia. "Perhaps the very same boy that ran away is the one that you've been forcing to live in a cupboard?"

Realizing that this was a losing battle, Petunia changed tactics. "He was disobedient every day, officer," she said. "It was ridiculous, really, the horrible things that he would do."

The officer nodded, but Petunia didn't even have to look him in the eye to tell that he didn't trust her one whit. "We'll keep searching for the boy, Ma'am, but you've added one more item to our investigations list," he said.

When he left, Petunia shakily sat down, repeatedly smoothing her skirt over her legs. Dudley felt quite smug. Until Petunia whipped around, eyes on fire, and banished him to his room to 'think about what he just did.'

Dudley cried and screamed and wailed the whole time, but neither Petunia nor Vernon Dursley went to comfort him until supper.

::-::

Meanwhile, first-years were flooding into Hogwarts's Great Hall. Ironically, the first thing to catch Harry's attention was not the enchanted ceiling, nor the scores of floating candles, nor the shining gold pillars or lengthy wooden tables, but a single familiar face that he spotted in the crowd.

"Neville!" he said, waving frantically.

Neville whipped around, eyes wide in amazement. "Harry!" he said. "Did you go by the loco? I didn't see you."

It's probably better you didn't, Harry thought, recalling his tiff with Draco Malfoy. "I was there," he said. "Oh, and here's Ron. Ron, this is Neville. We met at Malkin's."

Ron and Neville shook hands.

"Neville… Longbottom?" Ron said. "I think my parents know your granny."

"You don't say," Neville said excitedly. "Are you a Weasley?"

Ron seemed rather miffed, but softened when he realized that Neville only asked out of friendliness. "I s'pose so," he said.

Neville seemed like he wanted to say more, but the stern Professor McGonagall had placed the Sorting Hat on a stool and the whole Great Hall hushed as if they were waiting for something to begin. Harry sure hadn't expected the hat to sing, that was for sure. He applauded just as loudly as everyone else when the hat finished, wondering if he could possibly be surprised by anything else.

The Sorting began, and Harry noted that Hermione looked quite stiff and Ron looked quite queasy. When McGonagall read Hermione's name, she almost tripped over the stool in her eagerness, jamming the Sorting Hat over her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Ron groaned. Harry thought about her books and her studies and wondered why she hadn't been sorted into Ravenclaw.

That thought quickly passed away as Neville was also sorted into Gryffindor. Ron wanted to be in Gryffindor, so if Harry could make it into Gryffindor, he would be with all his friends.

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry stepped forward. Whispers broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Harry dropped the hat over his eyes, trying to ignore the crowd of people craning their necks to try and look at him. The hat began talking almost immediately.

"Hmm," it said. "This looks like it will be difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes—and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting… So where shall I put you?"

Gryffindor might be nice, Harry said. That's where my friends are going.

"You will make friends in whatever House you are, Harry Potter—ah, yes, you mustn't worry about that. But—what is this I found? Someone has been training you, yes? I sense development in your mental defences… Extraordinary development, really."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. Could you put me in Gryffindor, please?

"Not Slytherin?" said the voice. "You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that."

Harry felt himself getting a tiny bit irritated at the hat. He tried not to be too snarky to it, because its decision determined his future—but oh, how he wanted to. Did I ask for Slytherin?

"You've been asking for Gryffindor, that's for sure, but oh, the possibilities if you were to—"

Then put me in Gryffindor. Please.

The hat hardly seemed perturbed. "Well, if you're sure—better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry sighed and took off the hat, walking shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He didn't even notice that he was getting the loudest cheer yet, and that a red-haired prefect (most likely one of Ron's many brothers) was shaking his hand vigorously, and that Hermione had practically tackled him in a hug. Suddenly alarm bells were going off in the back of his head—someone was trying to infiltrate his mind.

Harry whipped around, eyes searching for the intruding presence in his mind. His eyes fell on Professor Quirrell's turban. Perhaps Professor Quirrell had his turban on backwards and was trying to use Legilimency on him? It didn't make much sense to Harry, but it was possible—

No, Professor Quirrell was talking to another professor. Then what was coming out the back of his turban?

As the Sorting continued, Harry fought off the presence. Thankfully, it was weak; it couldn't even pass his reflectors. It didn't take much attention to ward off, but it did get rather annoying. Despite the piles of delicious food on the feast table, Harry attempted to eat as fast as possible.

"You can slow down, Harry," Hermione said. "The food will hardly disappear."

"You're eating even faster than Ron," Neville said brightly. "That seems like an impressive feat."

Ron looked up, a large chicken drumstick clenched in each fist. The expression on his face made Neville and Harry burst into laughter. Even Hermione couldn't suppress a smile.

"I'm not starving or anything," Harry said. "I just feel like going to bed early." He faked a yawn. "You know, it's been quite a day."

Ron looked quite saddened at the prospect of leaving the feast.

Harry slapped him on the back. "You lot stay. I'll ask a prefect. Ron, Neville, tell me what I've missed later, yeah?"

He didn't wait for an answer and turned to find the nearest prefect, keenly aware of the needling in the back of his head. The uncomfortable feeling only subsided when he had safely reached his dormitory room and dropped off to sleep.

(I've gotten an overwhelming amount of questions about the unfairness of the Dursley's ability to maintain guardianship over Harry for two years:

Q: After all, they performed some insane acts that would definitely be considered child abuse (who puts a kid in a cupboard?), the judge should consider where Harry wants to live, and shouldn't there be some presence of some form of Child Welfare?

A: Technically, yes. And this is probably the biggest issue I've had to contend with thus far, as I had no knowledge of British law, especially British law in its state at the 1980's. I put in a few hours of research, but sadly still came up short. (I'm a writer, not a lawyer, and my head for law is quite limited.) However, I do have a thought process: 1) Harry was very young. It's difficult to struggle through the law at his age, especially with adults trying to manipulate him left and right. 2) Wu Sifu comes from the Wizarding World. He's far more familiar with Wizarding Law than Muggle law. 3) There are most likely several boundaries on suing for guardianship so that children aren't just taken from their homes left and right. Thus, it would be incredibly difficult to Wu Sifu to take Harry from the Dursleys. Also, the judge should ask Harry where he wants to live, but that will not always be the determining factor. 4) One would think Child Welfare (or its British equivalent) would get involved, but do keep in mind that Harry lived in Little Whinging, and nothing really happens in Little Whinging. Besides, who would report to Child Welfare? The neighbors, who only really care about themselves? The Dursleys, who were the perpetrators? Would they take Hermione seriously? And Wu Sifu, despite his best efforts, is busy and not knowledgable about the law. It is likely he didn't know about Child Welfare, seeing as he has no children himself. I acknowledge that there are ways I could have put a bigger presence of the law, but honestly, I just hate getting drudged in exposition, and I'd rather focus on the actual focus—magic and martial arts.

Also, I skipped several points, such as Snape's introduction, Scabbers, the opening speech by Professor McGonagall, singing of the Hogwarts hymn, etc. I consider these filler points that don't really need to be repeated, since I don't want to just be plagiarizing the book.

Semi-important announcement: Both my fan fiction profile and my writing tumblr (lcli dot tumblr dot com) now have 'queues.' Basically, you'll be able to see the stories I'm currently working on updating, as well as an estimated update date. I find that these have been working out better than my attempted progress bars.

Thank you all for your support and I hope you are enjoying the story. One of the best scenes thus far is just around the corner, so I'm excited for the next two chapters.)