Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the idea of Harry Potter or any of the money making forms of it.
Again a thanks to my beta, Throckmorton.
Book 1 – Part 3: Revealing Meetings
Hagrid took Harry back to the Dursley's, telling Harry that if they tried anything, to send Hedwig.
The week wasn't bad; the Dursley's just avoided him, and actually gave him his own room—Dudley's spare bedroom. Harry took this time to read and learn as much as he could about the Wizarding World, skimming through, 'Modern Magical History', 'Hogwarts, a History', and a few others.
Harry's dreams had calmed down a bit, and though he still had them, they were different. They were more of that boy going to the school, which Harry could only assume was Hogwarts, through Hagrid's description of it, and from the books he was reading.
He went through lessons in these dreams, learning things in some kind of cooking class, maybe? No, it was called Potions. Harry didn't know how he knew this, but he hoped what he was seeing and hearing in these 'memories' were accurate, since he was learning the information without even trying.
There were other classes as well, Defense Against the Dark Arts. He could feel the thrill that went through the boy as his own excitement of learning the subject grew as well. Harry caught himself whispering spells under his breath, thinking back to certain lessons in his dreams, including a weird class where they changed the forms of things.
Finally, the day to go to Hogwarts came, and so, with ticket in hand, the Dursley's dropped him off, and left.
He found nine easy enough, but the three-quarters part was becoming troublesome, until he saw a family of red heads go past him, mentioning nine and three-quarters.
Harry shook himself as a memory surfaced, triggered by the redheaded woman leading the red entourage. One of his memories.
"We finally got Fabian and Gideon," a man in a hood stated. "It took five of us to take them down."
"About time," he hissed.
Harry felt the elation and glee from Voldemort upon hearing the deaths of these two men. This made Harry a little woozy, sad, and angry. However, understanding that this woman was somehow linked with the enemies of the Dark Lord pleased him, urging him onward and past the dark memory.
The closer he got, the more determined he was to befriend these people, no matter how shy and uneasy he was about meeting strangers. Though, after that memory, should he consider them 'strangers'?
The woman was very nice to him, and even introduced him to one of her sons who was also going to Hogwarts for the first time. She told him how to get onto the platform, a young redheaded girl nodding encouragingly for him to do so.
Harry did as the woman said, emerging onto the other side to find the platform Hagrid had told him about, people already boarding the famous train.
He was surprised at how heavy his suitcase was when trying to put it on the train, and was relieved when a boy came and helped him. He was a little startled to find that it was another redheaded boy, but smiled as yet another, apparently this boy's twin, came and helped.
After lifting the suitcase and putting it in place, they turned to him, focusing on his face, just barely glancing at his forehead.
Their eyes grew wide.
"Blimey…are you --?"
"He is," said the other twin. "Aren't you?"
"What?" Harry asked, a little confused.
"Harry Potter," they both said.
"Oh. Yeah, I am," Harry said, extending his right hand for a shake, before lifting his left as well since there were two of them.
The twins gawked at him for a moment before collecting themselves and happily taking a hand.
"I'm Fred."
"I'm George," they introduced, simultaneously.
A moment later, the twins' mom called, and they were off.
Harry sat down in the compartment where they had put his luggage, and looked out the window to watch the entertaining exchange between the twins and their mom, though, the little thing about 'You-Know-Who' had churned his stomach a tad.
If only they knew… he thought as everyone who needed to be on the train got on. A moment later, they were moving.
Harry was pleasantly surprised when the young red haired boy entered.
"Hi," Harry said, motioning for Ron to sit even before Ron could even ask.
"Thanks, everywhere else is full," he said, taking a seat. "I'm Ron, Ronald Weasly."
"I'm Harry, Harry Potter."
His expression pretty much matched the twins' surprised faces from earlier.
"Wow… And have you really got—you know…" He pointed uncertainly at Harry's forehead.
Harry was surprised that he wasn't uncomfortable with showing Ron his scar, but proudly pulled back his bangs.
Perhaps it was because he was looking at his scar in a different light, looking at it as a mark of survival, instead of as a 'curse' or something evil and unlucky. This way of thought was all thanks to Hagrid.
"So is that where You-Know-Who—?"
"Yeah."
"Do you…uh, remember?" Ron asked awkwardly.
"Yeah," Harry said quietly.
"Oh, sorry, I really shouldn't have asked."
"You're the first one who's really bothered to care, well, besides Hagrid," Harry said, not wanting Ron to think he was upset with him for being curious.
Ron opened his mouth to try to say something, but the door opened. A lady with a cart full of candy caught their attention.
"Anything off the cart, dears?"
Harry splurged. Thrilled to be able to buy things, and to share those things with a new friend. Ron had been hesitant at first to take the things Harry offered him, but after a few seconds of prodding, he dug in alongside Harry.
Harry was happy to hear all about Ron's family, and was eager to hear more about magic.
While talking with Ron, a boy dropped by, asking if they had seen his toad.
They told him they hadn't, but something in Harry's gut told him that they should help this distraught boy out.
"Here, we'll help you look for him," Harry said, standing up.
"You will?" he asked, his voice surprised, going a little higher than what was his normal.
"We will?" Ron asked, just as surprised.
"Sure, your toad seems to be pretty important to you, if I lost Hedwig, I'd want help. And if you lost Scabbers, you'd want help too, right?" he asked, looking to Ron.
"Yeah," Ron agreed, getting up and putting Scabbers away as Harry led the way out of the compartment.
"Where did you last see him?" Harry asked.
"Before I got on the train…" Neville said miserably. "But Gran said he probably got on without me knowing," he added, attempting to sound hopeful, but failing miserably.
Ron and Harry looked at each other.
"Well, what does he like? Does he have any favorite foods? Does he like cool places or warm?" Harry asked, walking down the hall of the long train.
"Uh, he likes flies, and uh…warm damp places," he said, keeping up.
"The commode," Harry whispered. "Where are the bathrooms?" he asked.
Ron shrugged, just as a brown haired girl approached them.
"Still can't find your toad, Neville?" she asked.
"No, Hermione, but they're helping me."
"Oh, that's good. I'm Hermione Granger," she said, looking to Ron and Harry.
"Ron Weasley."
"Harry Potter."
Neville's eyes widened, his mouth falling open.
Hermione held her surprise more in check.
"Are you really? Well, I've read all about you, of course."
"In 'Modern Magical History'? Or 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts'?" Harry asked.
"Both," she said, surprised, "and in 'Great Events of the Twentieth Century'."
"I just skimmed over that one, I honestly don't think that one's that accurate…"
"Really, why?"
"Ahh!"
They turned to find someone running towards them.
"A toad! Tried to jump on my head!" a girl screamed.
They watched her continue down the hall before going to the restrooms.
"You three stay out here, I'll go in," Hermione said, before entering the small girl's room.
A moment later, she came back with the toad.
"Here you go, Neville," she said, handing the toad to him.
"Thank you," he said, before looking to Harry and Ron. "I would have never thought about him being in the bathroom, th-thanks…"
"No problem, Neville," Harry said, ignoring Neville's apparent nervousness.
All four of them then went back, Harry leading them to his and Ron's compartment.
Opening the compartment, they were surprised to find it occupied; Harry and Ron stopped, side-by-side, just beyond the doorway, Hermione and Neville behind them.
The blond haired boy and two larger boys were in there.
"We heard that Harry Potter was in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" the blond boy asked, looking to Harry.
Harry's eyes narrowed, trying not to think about the previous feelings he had gotten from this boy.
"I suppose you are, all you had to say was 'yes' you know," he said, taking a step towards Harry, his two buddies sitting by Harry and Ron's candy.
Harry glanced at the pile of candy, finding it a little smaller than they had left it. Harry caught the boy to the left quickly swallow a mouthful.
Mistaking Harry's glance at the candy for a curious look towards his two friends, the boy spoke again.
"This is Crabbe and Goyle. And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
Harry felt the rush of memories pound through his mind.
Darkly robed people left a burning village, turning to face him.
"Good work, Lucius, you make the Malfoy family proud."
Harry forced back the memory and distant thoughts of Hatred, Murder, and Power.
He didn't really hear what Draco had been saying, but noticing that Ron had his fists clenched, he figured it had involved family insults.
"—friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there," Malfoy said, holding out his hand for Harry to take.
Harry just looked at it for a long moment, causing odd looks to pass from Crabbe and Goyle, and an annoyed one to surface on Malfoy's.
After another second of thought, Harry took hold Malfoy's hand.
"I'm certain I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, but thanks for showing me without a doubt who the worst sort are." His eyes trailed from Crabbe to Goyle, until they came back to rest on Malfoy.
"Well, I'm glad I could assist you in that. Care to join us?" Malfoy asked, clearly not getting what Harry had hinted at.
"No, but take some sweets, I can see you and your buddies have welcomed yourself to them already," he said, stepping out of Malfoy's line to the hall. Ron and the others followed Harry's lead, clearing a path for Draco and his friends to leave.
Malfoy gave him an odd look before giving a surprisingly respectful nod, grabbed some more candy, along with Crabbe and Goyle, and headed out.
"And Draco?" Harry asked when Draco had passed him.
"Yeah?" he asked, turning in the hall, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione facing him.
"Don't ever say things like that about people around me again; I didn't defeat Voldemort to come back to the Wizarding World to hear pitiful banter and arrogant insults."
Harry returned the respectful nod Draco had given him earlier, ignoring the looks from Ron, Neville, and Hermione, as well as the wide-eyed stares from Draco and his two guards.
Harry went into his compartment without another word and sat down by the window, quickly being followed by Ron, Neville, and Hermione, who closed the door, before they all sat down—the small pile of treats between Harry and Neville.
"Wow, Harry, I don't know what to say," Ron said.
Harry shrugged.
"You said You-Know-Who's name…" Nevile squeaked.
"Oh, I guess I did. But why shouldn't we? Being afraid of saying his name is just giving him more power," Harry said.
"Wow, I've never heard it put that way before," Ron said before giving a wide grin. "And the look on Malfoy's face was hilarious."
"I've heard about the Malfoy's. They are partial to purebloods, don't like muggleborns, and as we just saw, unbelievably rude," Hermione spat.
"'Muggleborns?'" Harry asked.
They looked at him for a moment.
"I'm a muggleborn. They're people who have a non-magic parent or parents," Hermione explained.
"Oh. So, 'purebloods' are…" Harry asked.
"I am, for the most part, and Neville's family is," Ron said, making Neville go pink.
Harry looked to Neville curiously, making Neville go pinker still.
"What's your last name?" Harry asked.
"Lo-Longbottom," he answered.
The name sounded familiar to Harry, and like the previous times that day, a memory surfaced.
"The Longbottom's have been taken care of Master, those two Aurors will no longer cause problems."
Harry inwardly cringed at the hideous laughter that followed before the woman continued.
"They certainly lasted a long time though, but in the end, the Cruciatus Curse did its thing. Their minds are gone."
"Good job, Lestrange."
Harry shuddered slightly.
"You alright, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Yeah, sorry. Was thinking."
"About what? Looked like you were going to be sick," Hermione noted.
"I suppose I ate too much candy," he muttered.
The others glanced at each other slightly, before giving a shrug.
Harry made a note to himself to get to know Neville, after what his parents had sacrificed, their son deserved friendship.
"So, uh…Harry, for a moment there, I thought you were going to befriend Malfoy and his buddies," Ron said, giving an uneasy chuckle. "I was almost scared that you'd fall for his garbage."
"Like I'd become friends with a guy whose father is a murderous rampaging Death Eater," Harry nearly snarled.
The three of them reared back slightly, Harry himself blinking in surprise.
What the heck is a Death Eater? he asked himself, but knowing whatever it was, it was evil, and Draco's father was one.
"Sorry, I don't know why I said that…" Harry whispered, noticing their stunned silence.
"Don't be, that's pretty much what my dad thinks of him," Ron chipped in. "But, uh, if you don't mind me asking, why'd you let them take some candy?"
Harry gave a slight smile, realizing Ron was trying to lighten the mood.
"Though I don't fully agree with the saying 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer', I still think you should keep a close eye on your enemies."
They nodded in agreement, before Harry picked up a little cake.
"Here, there's no way me and Ron can finish all of these, take some," Harry said, pushing the pile closer towards Hermione and Neville.
The rest of the trip to Hogwarts was uneventful, although Neville's toad tried to escape once again, but was caught by Harry. Soon after that, they went and got on their robes, and before Harry and the others knew it, they were on their way to the Great Hall.
"Gryffindor-Gryffindor-Gryffindor," Ron quietly chanted.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked, staring at Ron.
"I'm hoping I'll be sorted into Gryffindor."
"Oh. Like Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin?" Harry asked, recalling them from his earlier reading last week.
"Yeah," Hermione said. "I, myself, am also hoping for Gryffindor, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be horrible."
"I'll probably be put in Hufflepuff, I'm not brave enough for Gryffindor…" Neville sighed.
"Better that than being put into Slytherin," Ron muttered darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know—oh, I mean, Vol-volde-mort was one," he whispered to them, fighting back a shudder.
"Voldemort went here?" Harry asked quietly, getting a horrid feeling in his gut.
Ron nodded. "My dad said so."
Harry quickly collected himself while they continued with the other students, and entered the Great Hall.
An old Professor, who quickly introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, told them to line up and to wait for their names to be called.
"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"
Harry looked up at the people on the table, and as his eyes trailed over them, a quick succession of short memories and thoughts flew through his mind.
After taking a slow breath, he was able to make some sense of it all.
His eyes fell upon a rather intimidating black haired man, and from the thoughts he had gathered from him, he gathered that Voldemort had conflicting feelings about this individual. While he trusted him a great deal, there was this odd, uncertain doubt concerning him as well.
Harry decided to be safe, and made yet another note to himself. Don't cross this man, because if he is a follower of Voldemort, he doesn't have far to go to get to you.
Harry looked away, just before the man's eyes caught his own, and fell upon the man next to him, Professor Quirrell, as Hermione Granger was called to be sorted.
Harry didn't trust this man, something about him just felt…off, and it wasn't about the whole stuttering thing.
As names continued to be called, he looked at the center of the table to find Albus Dumbledore.
He smiled, gathering that Voldemort was actually fearful of this man.
Harry almost started when Dumbledore's eyes fell upon him, but he kept his gaze for a moment until he heard, "Potter, Harry!"
Had he been that focused in his own thoughts that he hadn't even bothered to wonder where he would be placed?
He heard the Great Hall go quiet, and then a rush of whispers. He knew he had turned a shade of red as the people in front of him parted like the sea and openly stared.
"Potter, did she say?"
"No way…"
"The Harry Potter?"
He shuffled forward up to the stool, put the hat on his head, and sat.
"Hmm…" a small voice began. "Now let me see…"
Harry's only thought at this point was, "Not Slytherin, Not Slytherin, anything but Slytherin…"
"Anything 'but' Slytherin? — Oh my-my…" the hat said, his voice trailing off as a memory emerged…
A pale handsome boy was sitting on the stool, and a less battered looking hat was upon his head.
"Ah…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 — SLYTHERIN!"
"It's a rare thing when I see things I have not before…" the hat said, speaking again.
Harry felt everyone's eyes on him as he repeated his previous thought.
"Hmm…even though I have seen otherwise, you're sure, so — better be GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry thankfully hopped off the stool, and went towards the ecstatic Gryffindor table and sat beside Hermione, the twins yelling, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"
Neville was sitting across from him.
He looked back up to the High Table, finding Hagrid beaming with his thumbs up. Harry grinned.
When everyone had settled down, more names were called, and more were sorted. He noticed that Malfoy and his buddies were already sitting at the Slytherin table.
Wow, I must have been in really deep thought to have missed them being sorted, Harry thought as Ron Weasley was called.
Harry's eyes snapped to his new friend, silently hoping he would be sorted into Gryffindor.
He was. Harry happily joined in the cheering as an embarrassed Ron came to the table and sat beside him.
Soon after that, the sorting hat was put away, and Dumbledore stood up.
"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin out banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwits! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!
"Thank you."
Food appeared on the table, and conversation spread across all of the tables.
Harry was enjoying his food, and listening to those around him talk about things from getting their letters to how their families were. That was when he felt the same uneasy feeling of being watched he had experienced in The Leaky Cauldron.
He focused himself as he looked to the source to find Professor Quirrell just beginning to turn his eyes away from him…that was when it hit, and hit hard.
He gasped, slamming his palm onto his forehead as he bowed his head, trying to banish the pain. From someone watching, by the position of his hand, it looked as if he had gotten a stab of pain somewhere and was trying to collect himself, instead of displaying exactly what was hurting.
"Blimey, Harry, what's wrong?" Ron asked.
The pain vanished, leaving only a strain of queasiness.
"I bit my tongue, I'm good now."
"You need to be more careful, you're going to need to talk right when you start saying spells," Hermione warned gently.
He went back to eating, his mind made up about Quirrell. Harry was going to be cautious around him, even more so than that black haired fellow.
"Uh, Percy?" he asked, having heard his name when the twins were teasing him earlier about something.
"Yes, Harry?" Percy asked, a little too enthusiastically.
"Who's that teacher sitting beside Professor Quirrell?"
"Ah, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to—everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."
Why am I not surprised…Harry sarcastically thought.
The dinner ended, and after some disturbing words from the Headmaster about not going to the third floor corridor, they were led to their House Dormitories.
Ron, Dean, Neville, and Seamus shared the dorm room with him. Stepping into the room, Harry got an odd sense of déjà vu as, in his mind's eye, the room shifted slightly, and instead of red curtains around the beds, they were velvet green. He felt a feeling of belonging and strong purpose overtake him for a moment, before shaking himself slightly, and once again seeing red Gryffindor curtains.
Harry lay awake for a time before going to sleep. His mind was buzzing with everything he had seen that day, and having learned that Voldemort was once a student, and had been in Slytherin, was troubling. And then that memory he had had that the hat apparently had also seen, was cause for serious alarm.
Was he seeing Voldemort's earlier days in Hogwarts? And before he had turned dark?
It was definitely a scary thought. He might one day see what caused Voldemort to turn, if the Slytherin boy wasn't already at this time in his memories…
And why was he seeing these 'memories'? Was it from that night? It would have to be. Though, could it be possible that he had more than one set of memories? Could he have some from two different people, not counting himself?
Upon some thought about that, he decided no, not after everything he had just learned. The memory of the boy going into Slytherin was too much of a coincidence…
He sighed, deciding to just take things as they came, and turned over, going to sleep.
Harry slept well that night, to his utter relief, and woke up just in time to head to his first class.
All along the way, Ron and Neville on either side of him, Harry was conscious of the stares and excited whispers.
Ron and Neville helped ease the stares by glaring back at the rudely curious, and reminded Harry to ignore them, though Ron did more of the glaring portion.
In Herbology, Harry and the others quickly discovered it was Neville's favorite class, despite never answering any questions.
In History of Magic, Harry found himself phasing out, and what was worse, was that he sometimes had to endure two lessons in one day—one from memories, and the other in reality. Parts of it were sometimes interesting, considering that it seemed that Professor Binns had a better memory in those yesteryears, but more often than not, it was dead boring, no pun intended.
Charms was nice, and the spells came to him fairly easily, usually only needing to be repeated a few times before working right, but that was partly due to the fact he had memory of how to do them correctly…
He helped Ron and Neville a few times, Hermione watching on curiously. Harry in turn, listened to Neville in Herbology, since he had this amazing knack for plants.
In Transfiguration, they went right into it, and Harry was thankful for the reading he had done that week before school. When they had been told to turn a match into a needle, Hermione was the only one who made any progress, well, towards a needle anyways…
Harry must have done something seriously wrong, because his match wiggled. Harry could have sworn he saw the start of a silver snake being made, and that scared him. He blinked, and at that, the match exploded.
"You're putting too much power into it, Potter. Ease back a bit, but remember later, that amount of power will be needed in harder transfigurations. Here's another match, try again, look at Ms. Granger's match, she made a nice start."
Finally, probably the only class he was consciously dreading, Defense Against the Dark Arts, came. It wasn't the subject; it was the professor. Harry was relieved when he got the bits of memories that came to him concerning this class, seeing it from the boy's point of view, a group of Slytherins really learning about spells and curses, instead of being bored out of his mind while drowning in the smell of garlic.
From the memories, he had quickly learned that the boy's name was Tom Riddle. He stored that knowledge away, mildly surprised that such a common, simple kind of name was Voldemort's real one, though, that was assuming his assumption was correct.
He was shaken out of his daze by Ron.
"You look just as bored as I feel. Come on, Common Room," he said.
- - -
A/N: If you like what you're reading, please say so, it will only help me type faster and improve. :) And if you have any questions, feel free to ask them.
Next part: Options.
