N.A. In the next two chapters I will be skating right on the edge of canon, but it will be canon that I use in different contexts. Obviously, the lines you recognize from canon really are JKR's.

The Best Revenge

Chapter 21

What a summer! Snape collapsed into his ratty armchair at Spinner's End, glad to have time to himself for once. Harry was as ready as he would ever be to enter Hogwarts. In their last week of freedom, the two of them had hiked in Cornwall, explored the cairns of the Isles, wandered through Kew Gardens, and dined once more with the Malfoys. Snape had seen Terminator II twice, at Harry's demand, wincing at the unbelievable volume of sound and the overwhelming intensity of the images. Muggle special effects had certainly made great strides.

Today they had brewed two potions, the last of a series of six that Snape had thought would give Harry a reasonable background in techniques and ingredients. Since Albus resisted the idea of Harry at Hogwarts before September first, Snape had scrupulously cleaned his own humble home and brewed there. Harry seemed not to notice the shabbiness of Spinner's End, only commenting on the amount of books and how neat it was to have the stairs hidden by a bookcase. They had worked at the battered kitchen table, breaking off for sandwiches they made together. Late in the afternoon, he had taken Harry back to Privet Drive, and had shared the delicious dinner Muffy served. Seeing the boy before him-such a small boy-though he had grown nearly two inches since their first meeting-Snape found it a struggle not to smother the child with last-minute advice.

"I'm going to call on you first thing when you're in Potions, Harry. It's important that your classmates understand that you're a serious student, not just a boy basking in his celebrity."

Harry nodded. "I don't want people to think that I care about being famous. But I don't want them to think I'm the sort of know-it-all who thinks he's better than everybody else, either."

After a few more anxious admonitions, Snape saw Harry struggling not to roll his eyes. He shut his mouth and turned his attention to his crème brulee. It wasn't as if he wouldn't see Harry at Hogwarts, after all.

He would see him tomorrow, in fact: at exactly half-past ten.

-.

Harry's professors had told him how to walk through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He wheeled his trunk in front of him, preparing to go at the barrier running, and then paused to make his goodbyes.

Aunt Petunia held a dainty lace handkerchief to her eyes. "I can't believe our Harry is going away. You'll be nearly grown by the next time we see you!" If her accent had a curiously Scottish flavour, no one who knew her was there to comment.

Uncle Vernon, expensively tailored, beamed at him, teeth gleaming. Harry stared, and then staggered as he was slapped on the back. His hand was grasped for a fiercely emotional-but manly-shake. He knew this was really Professor Snape, disguised by something called Polyjuice Potion, but the man looked exactly like Uncle Vernon. He heard, unbelieving, as "Uncle Vernon" declared, "You'll make us proud, my boy." Harry took a caged and fluttering Hedwig from him, and stepped back.

"Aunt Petunia"-otherwise known as Professor Minerva McGonagall- bent and kissed his cheek. She smelled of heather, not of Aunt Petunia's usual favorite, L'Air du Temps. It was all completely surreal. Harry wondered if his head would explode. He smiled over his shoulder at them, and caught a glimpse of a large family of redheads coming their way, the mother complaining about "muggles." Knowing that they would be trying to get through, he gave "Aunt Petunia" and "Uncle Vernon" a quick nod, and then started running.

Trundling, really. Holding tight to Hedwig's cage, he picked up speed, clenched his teeth, waited for the crash, and instantly was in bright light, rolling to a startled stop at the sight of a brilliantly scarlet engine.

"Hogwarts Express."

Harry let out the breath he was holding, in a sigh of relief and delight. The engine's smoke drifted in a dense grey haze. A crowd of robed wizards and witches of all ages chattered and jostled, while Hogwarts students clambered aboard, weighted down with bags and trunks and pets. Owls hooted their complaints, and cats screeched in outrage. Harry stood stock still for a moment, enjoying the amazing scene, and then darted out of the way of the red-haired family following him.

"Harry!"

Draco was waving. Behind him, his elegantly-garbed parents granted Harry their rare smiles. He went to meet them, glad he knew someone in this crowd. "Madam Malfoy-Mr Malfoy. A pleasure to see you. You're looking eager this morning, Draco!"

"We were Disillusioned, and we watched you on the platform," Draco grinned. "We had to see your muggle relatives. What happened to the baby whale?"

"He left for school a week ago. They carried on even more for him-though I suppose that's as it should be-he is their son and all."

"At least they dressed for the occasion," Lucius remarked, rather coolly. "Not as slovenly and trashy as most of the mob. Off you go then. Let's get your things stowed away. It's a long journey to Hogwarts."

"Not without saying our goodbyes first," teased Madam Malfoy. To Harry's surprise, she bent and took his face gently in her soft hands. A kiss was pressed on his brow. "You will never again be on the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Make the most of it."

Harrys hand was given a brief, formal shake by Malfoy Senior, who levitated the luggage onto the train, and led them to a compartment. Once the trunks were secured, he gave the boys a brief, considering look, and then a half-smile. "Owl us after the Sorting. I hope-" he broke off, and simply said, "Enjoy Hogwarts. There's no place like it."

He was gone, leaving Harry and Draco the masters of the compartment.

"Don't you have an animal?" Harry asked.

Draco spread out comfortably on the seat opposite. "No." he drawled loftily. "We have Bubo to relay messages already, and if I need to owl home quickly, there's always the owlery. Perhaps another year I might take a cat. I rather fancy an Abyssinian, but I didn't find one that was just right." He glanced into the passageway, and shouted, "There you are! Get in here, you two! You're late!"

Two large boys lumbered into the compartment and plumped down heavily on either side of Draco. "Harry Potter," Draco said, with a gesture to the boy opposite him. "these lads are Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. We've known each other forever, and they'll be my companions in Slytherin. Crabbes and Goyles have served the Malfoys for centuries. Greg-Vince-say hello to Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived."

The two boys grunted amiably.

Harry gave them the carefully friendly smile he used with strange dogs. "Vince. Greg. Pleased to meet you."

Goyle turned and remarked to Crabbe, "Thought he'd be taller."

Draco rolled his eyes. Harry continued to smile. It was rather like the zoo.

Crabbe's brow furrowed, and then he blurted out, "What was it like, killing the Dark Lord?"

Draco winced. "Smooth, Crabbe. Very smooth. He was all of-what?-one? I daresay he doesn't remember anything about it. You don't, do you?" Draco asked, trying to hide how very much he wanted to know.

Harry was not fooled. "I do, actually. Bits, anyway." Anger flickered at the rapt expressions. "He giggled in this stupid high laugh like a girl. Then it was all very-green."

Draco's eyes widened.

"And then," Harry said coldly, "his laugh cut off with a squawk. And I'm still here to talk about it. I'd rather not have to again. Is that quite all right?"

"Of course," Draco agreed hurriedly.

A loud whistle, and the train lurched into motion. Harry looked out the window, and saw the Malfoys waving. The boys all waved back, and Draco waved at his parents until they were out of sight. Harry thought the Malfoys looked a little anxious and strained beneath their bland smiles, but he supposed that was normal for parents. He imagined his own parents standing on the platform, his mother's red hair catching the breeze. He sighed. Draco looked a little mournful himself. It occurred to Harry that Draco might have reason to be homesick. To be honest, he was little apprehensive about the coming adventure himself. His wonderful little room seemed very precious at the moment. He would have to find the kitchens as soon as possible and see Muffy. He already missed her.

Seeing Draco discreetly wipe his nose, Harry said, "The trip takes hours and hours. Anyone for a game?"

Goyle's mother had thoughtfully slipped a deck of cards in his pocket, and the four of them were soon playing Exploding Snap, shouting along with every bang. Goyle and Crabbe were not so stolid once their "loyal retainer" façade slipped a bit.

Draco's spirits picked up a bit with the game. He had talked and talked with Father in the past few days, telling him everything that Harry had said and done when they were together: the tone of his voice, the expression on his face, what Draco deduced were Harry's plans. Father had told him very seriously that young Potter was destined for great things, and that it was important to maintain their alliance, no matter where the boy was sorted. Whether or not the Dark Lord ever returned, he had been bested by a child, and Malfoys did not waste their loyalty on losers. Lucius might not be happy with Harry's attitude about blood, but the boy, after all, was young and naïve. And as long as one was flexible enough to accept the occasional outstanding muggleborn-like the boy's mother-it was still possible to keep power in the wizarding world in the proper hands. If the muggleborn was truly outstanding, and was adaptable enough to integrate fully into the wizarding world, it was not necessarily a disaster. Draco must be proud of his heritage, but always keep his options open.

"It will be awkward if he goes into Gryffindor, I grant you. Nonetheless, don't rise to any baiting from his housemates. Always make yourself the innocent, injured party if anything of the sort happens-and it will. If Potter dislikes bullies as much as it appears, he won't be impressed by that sort of behavior, and he'll hold on to your friendship all the more obstinately. If you don't retaliate, anything they say against Slytherin will seem a lie. And once he thinks they're liars-well-" Lucius smiled slyly, and the smile widened at Draco's answering smirk. "He talks about house unity, you say? Well, that might not be a bad thing, done the right way. If he wants to create a network among the houses, it could be very useful once you are of age. Particularly useful, if he is in another house, and he looks to the Malfoys as his chief allies in Slytherin."

"And Professor Snape, too," Draco reminded his father.

"Yes-Severus." Lucius was silent a moment. "Severus is fond of Harry-the son he never had-though of course there is still plenty of time-"

"I daresay you'll be glad to see Snape when we get to Hogwarts," Draco remarked to Harry.

Harry smiled over his cards. "I only hope people don't think I'm some sort of teacher's pet."

Draco shrugged, "Who cares if the morons are jealous? I hope we're in Potions together. We could be partners."

"Sounds good."

Students were passing, sliding the compartment doors open and closed with hisses and crashes. Trunks thumped against their door, making Harry look up. The red-haired boy Harry had seen in Madam Malkin's peered in, shouting out, "Oi! Did you hear that Harry Potter's on this train?"

Harry made a face. "No! You don't say so!"

Draco snorted a laugh. "Sounds like a wild rumour to me."

Crabbe and Goyle exchanged a befuddled glance. "But you said he was Harry Potter!" Crabbe objected, jabbing a thick finger in Harry's direction. Draco and Harry burst out laughing. The red-haired boy peered eagerly at Harry, coming further into the compartment. Harry noticed a dirty smear of black on his nose.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" the boy asked.

Harry nodded.

"Oh-well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes. And have you really got-you know-" He pointed to Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his hair to show the scar. All the boys in the compartment stared.

Draco attempted to comfort him. "It's not at all disfiguring, Harry, especially since you wear your hair long."

The red-haired boy was still staring. "So that's where You-Know-Who-"

"Yes," Harry said shortly. "So now you know my name, but I don't know yours."

"No need to ask who he is," Draco sneered. "Red hair, freckles, and the manners of a lout. He must be a Weasley. You'll find that some wizarding families are better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort."

The other boy's ears had reddened, and he clenched his fists in rage. Harry sighed, and put his hand out.

"I'm Harry Potter. I saw you before at Madam Malkin's. You are...?"

The red-haired boy glared at Draco, and fumbled to shake Harry's hand. "Ron Weasley," he muttered. "Yeah, I remember you. You didn't know anything about Quidditch."

"Well, he does now," Draco shot back, rather nettled. "We were playing Exploding Snap just now when you interrupted, so if you would be so good as to remove yourself..."

Ron scowled and slammed out of the compartment.

"Oh, well done, Draco," Harry complained. "Now I have someone pissed off at me already."

"A Weasley isn't worth a second thought," Draco declared. "Your turn to deal, I think."

While they were playing, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They grew tired of Snap, and chatted for awhile. Harry found out that Greg and Vince's fathers both worked for Mr Malfoy at the estate. Vince, like Draco, was an only child, but Greg had a much younger sister, whom he appeared to regard as something of a pet.

Harry had already been told that the Malfoys raised sheep, but he had not seen them close-to, since Draco found sheep smelly and unappealing. From Vince and Greg, however, Harry learned that the Malfoys raised Greater Spellcombe Sheep, a unique wizarding breed, whose wool was used in making high-quality robes.

"All the Hogwarts robes sold by Madam Malkin and Twilfit and Tattings have at least some Greater Spellcombe wool in them," Draco told Harry. "Mine are pure Greater Spellcombe-the most expensive, of course."

Harry smirked at him, and teased, "Of course! Anything of inferior quality might irritate the delicate Malfoy skin!"

"Stop," Draco grimaced, a trifle embarrassed. "Sometimes you sound just like Snape!"

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered, snuffling like boars.

"Well, he does!" Draco snapped.

They looked out the window for some time, calling out when they saw a white horse-considered propitious by wizarding folk-and speculating about Hogwarts. Crabbe and Goyle's eyes grew heavy, and they dozed off. Draco moved over to Harry's seat and they admired Harry's beautiful traveling chess set. Professor Snape had explained the basics of the game to Harry, but they had played only a few times. Draco, Harry found, was quite a good chess player, and generously shared his insights and expertise with his friend.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside the corridor, and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and asked, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Crabbe and Goyle were instantly awake, alert, and shoving coins at the woman.

Harry was conscious of the picnic hamper in his bookbag, packed full to bursting by Muffy. "I don't think I really need anything, thank you," he told the smiling witch. "I brought a lunch with me."

"Oh, come on, Harry!" Draco demanded, sorting through the treats. "Try the chocolate frogs, at least. And the cauldron cakes are nice. Nothing wrong with a few sweets. Just beware the Bertie Botts."

Draco's words roused Harry's curiosity. He was informed that "Every Flavour" meant exactly that, and that Draco had never felt the same about them after getting one that-Draco whispered in Harry's ear-"tasted the way dog droppings smell."

Harry laughed insanely, nearly sliding out of his seat. Coughing, he submitted to Draco's urgings and bought a selection of treats, carefully avoiding the dreaded Bertie Botts. He eyed the chocolate frogs doubtfully.

"They're not really frogs, are they?"

"Of course not. They've just a little charm on them to make them jump at first, so hold on. They have cards inside them of famous witches and wizards. I have a complete collection already-over seven hundred."

Harry laughed. "That's a lot of chocolate." He unwrapped the frog and looked at the card. It showed an old man's face. He wore half-moon glasses and had a long, crooked, nose. His flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache put Harry in mind of Father Christmas. Under the picture was a name he knew.

"So this is Dumbledore!" He turned over the card and read:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

There followed a brief description of Dumbledore's achievements and hobbies. Professor Dumbledore had worked on alchemy with Nicholas Flamel, the man in the biography Harry's mom had owned. It was in Harry's trunk, even now, and he had looked through it briefly. It was terribly long, of course, which was to be expected when a wizard was hundreds of years old.

"I feel like something besides sweets," Harry remarked, getting up. "Greg! Maybe you can help me get my bookbag down. I've got a lunch hamper in it. Maybe you'd all like-"

There was a knock at the door of the compartment, and Harry looked up to see Neville Longbottom. The boy was near tears.

"Hullo, Neville." Harry greeted him. "Draco, Vince, Greg-this is Neville Longbottom. It's his first year at Hogwarts, too."

A duet of grunts, and a bored "Charmed," from Draco.

Neville was too upset to take offense at the lack of welcome. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Hello, Harry. Have you seen a toad at all?"

"A toad?" Draco muttered scornfully.

Neville flinched a little at Draco's tone, and told Harry, "I've lost my toad Trevor! He keeps getting away from me!"

Draco looked at Neville very haughtily. "You actually paid money for a toad?"

"Uncle Algy gave him to me, " Neville said defensively, not quite looking at Draco. "I don't think Trevor liked leaving our greenhouses. He was very happy there."

"You have greenhouses?" Harry interrupted, rather interested.

"Of course he does," Draco drawled. "It's the foundation of the Longbottom fortune. There's good money in growing magical plants if you don't mind grubbing in the dirt."

Feeling rather sorry for Neville, Harry paused, not knowing quite what to say. Goyle was up, more interested in the contents of Harry's lunch hamper. "Wait!" Harry cried. "I mean-Greg, get my trunk down, if you can. There's a spell to summon a familiar in an old book of my dad's! Let's try it!" With Goyle's muscular assistance, the dragonhide trunk was eased down and Harry quickly opened it, taking no notice of Draco's favourable appraisal of the trunk itself. He dug down and snatched out the copy of Madcap Magic for Wacky Warlocks. "Here it is!"

Thumbing quickly through the dog-eared pages, he found "So You've Lost Your Last Friend." A notation was scribbled beside it in faded ink: This works all right. He read through it quickly, and said, "You'll have to do it, Neville. He's your toad, after all!"

"I don't know-" Neville quavered.

"Do stop dithering, Longbottom, and show us what you can do," Draco said, settling back for the show.

"Here," Harry said, pointing out the incantation. "You just stick your wand out right out, and then say, 'Ecce, Trevor!' And then swoop your arm back as if gathering him in. And you have to think about how much you want him."

Neville obediently practiced the wand motion-a simple one. He whispered to Harry, "I don't think I can-"

"You want Trevor, don't you? Harry whispered back. "Think as hard as you can about that!"

Neville bit his lip and nodded, and then stuck out his arm, shouting, "Ecce, Trevor!" His arm swooped in a grand gesture.

"Maybe someone should open the door," Draco suggested. "Otherwise, it's likely to splatter all over the-"

Just in time, Harry lunged at the compartment door, sliding it open as a startled toad whizzed through, smacking into Neville's hands. The boy fumbled the catch, and Crabbe and Goyle and Harry amongst them managed to get a grip on Trevor and give him to an ecstatic and incredulous Neville.

"I did it!" he stammered. "I did magic!"

"I should certainly hope so," Draco declared, impressed in spite of himself, but unwilling to make a show of it. Such a fuss for a miserable toad! All the same, it was a neat bit of charms work. "Why don't you put him in your pocket, so he doesn't make another mad dash for freedom?"

With more fumbling, that was accomplished, and Trevor was tucked away safely.

"We were just about to have some lunch," Harry told Neville. "Why don't you join us? I've got heaps of food."

"Muggle food?" Draco challenged. "What have you got?"

Harry only gave him an enigmatic smile, and pulled the oversized hamper from the much smaller bookbag with some difficulty. Harry had reread his battered copy of The Wind in the Willows only last week. There was a part he loved best, and he had asked Muffy to make up the hamper just so-with a few addtions of his own. Crabbe and Goyle were very nearly drooling at the scents wafting towards them.

"There's cold chicken inside it," Harry replied. He took a breath. "-and- coldtongue coldham coldbeef pickledgherkins saladfrenchrolls cresssandwiches pottedmeat gingerbeerlemonadesodawater-"

The boys were staring at him and his hamper in awe, as the longest word they'd ever heard was put to the proof. Harry just kept on pulling out food.

"-and some treacle tarts and meringues, if we haven't enough sweets!"

Crabbe and Goyle fell on the food in rapture. Neville smiled in delight, and Draco nodded approvingly, biting into a rich and crumbling pasty. "Not bad, Harry. Not bad at all."

There was no further speech for some time. At length, drowsy and replete, they sprawled in their seats gorged and triumphant, while the countryside through which they passed grew wilder. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

The compartment door slid open again. A girl stood framed in it: a girl with lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth. In a bossy voice, she demanded, "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville-oh-there you are. Any luck?"

Neville roused himself to reply proudly, "I found him-with magic."

"Oh, are you doing magic?" asked the girl. "I wish I'd seen it!"

"It was a spell in my dad's book," Harry told her, very pleased with his father. "Madcap Magic for Wacky Warlocks."

"That's not on the Hogwarts list," the girl told him. "Is it any good?"

"Have a look at it if you like," Harry said. "Come in and have some lunch."

She tutted at him, brushing at the seat. "Honestly! Boys! You're all over crumbs!"

"Most excellent crumbs," Draco remarked dreamily.

The girl sat down by Harry and began paging through the book, talking all the time.

"I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all. It was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course-"

Draco's eyes widened, and he began inching away, further back into the seat, as far as possible from the strange girl.

Oblivious to his growing horror, the girl prattled on. "I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course. I just hope it will be enough-I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all this very fast. Harry gaped at her. He'd had done his share of studying over the past month, but he certainly couldn't claim to have learned all his books by heart.

Luckily, Neville's manners saved the moment. "Neville Longbottom," he said softly, with a small nod, in lieu of a bow to a lady.

"Uhh-"Harry managed brilliantly. "This is Greg Goyle-and Vince Crabbe-and this-" he said, attempting his suavest 'shaken, not stirred' voice, "- is Malfoy-Draco Malfoy-" He nodded to her, distracting her from Draco's expression. "-and I'm Harry Potter."

"Are you really?" asked Hermione. "I know all about you, of course. I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. Do you have anything that doesn't have meat or refined sugar in it?"

Harry served her some strawberries and cream cheese with deliciously crunchy biscuits. Clearing his throat, he said quietly, "You can't believe everything you read. I read those books, too, and I'm not sure I agree-"

"Have him tell you about the green light!" Draco sniped at the girl. "I daresay you don't know all about him."

"Do you know what house you'd like to be in?" Harry asked desperately, hoping to forestall a fight.

"Oh-Gryffindor, I think," the girl blundered on. "I've been asking around, and I hope I go there. I heard Dumbledore himself was in it, and I think it sounds much the best-"

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Why?"

"Why do you think it sounds the best?"

"Well-Dumbledore is such a great wizard, and if he was in it-"

"You shouldn't go into a house just because someone else was in it," Harry said firmly. "You should go into the house that suits you the best. That's what my wizarding guardian says, and I agree with him. You have to be true to yourself, or it's all no good and you'll never make friends with your housemates. And besides, I don't know where you read that Dumbledore was in Gryffindor, but-"

"Some red-haired boys on the second car up said that."

Draco snorted his contempt.

Harry shook his head. "I haven't read anywhere that Dumbledore was in Gryffindor. I don't know which house he was in. But it still doesnt matter. He's Dumbledore and you're you."

"Well-I dont suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad-"

Crabbe sniggered to Goyle, "Not if she's already memorized all the books!"

Hermione huffed, and took another strawberry.

"Your parents are muggles." Draco said flatly, as if astonished that he could be having such a conversation. "What do muggles do?"

She blinked at him uncertainly. "They're dentists. Both of them. Mum is actually-"

"What in Merlin's name is a 'dentist?'"

"Tooth healers," Harry translated for the purebloods. "They fill cavities in teeth and prevent tooth decay."

"Cavities?" Neville asked, all at sea.

"Tooth decay?" Draco ventured in helpless revulsion. "Muggles teeth rot? That's the most disgusting thing I ever heard."

Hermione asked eagerly, "Do you mean that witches and wizards never get cavities?"

"What's a cavity?" Crabbe wondered.

Harry explained. "When muggles teeth decay, they get holes in them called cavities, and dentists fill them with metal stuff so the teeth still work."

"That's not entirely-" Hermione contradicted.

"I think I may sick up-" Draco declared, at exactly the same time. "-and it was such a beautiful lunch otherwise."

Hermione could not let go of the subject, however much it disgusted Draco. "Are you saying that witches and wizards teeth are always perfect?"

"Naturally!"

"No," Neville answered. "You might get cursed and have your teeth broken or knocked out or they may go all funny or turn yellow. But they don't-rot," he muttered, feeling rather put off himself.

"That's very interesting," Hermione assured them all. Briskly, she rose and said, "Thank you for the snack, Harry. Don't you boys think you should change? I'm going to right away. We should be there soon, I'm sure, and you don't want to be improperly dressed and get into trouble!"

She bustled out officiously, leaving the boys gaping again.

Draco fumed, "So that's a muggleborn? Of all the rude, pushing, presumptuous-"

"Maybe she's nervous," Neville suggested mildly.

Draco dismissed that angrily. "Nervous? An arrogant, jumped-up nobody, telling Harry Potter she knows all about him, when she never laid eyes on him before today! Who does she think she is?"

"Hermione Granger?" Goyle guessed.

"Yeah-that's the name, innit?" Crabbe agreed.

"So her parents are Tooth Healers, are they?" Draco stormed on, flinging himself into his robes. "Why don't they do something about their daughter's mighty tusks, then?"

Harry had been rather annoyed by Hermione himself, but the word "tusks" made him protest, laughing in spite of himself. "Don't, Draco! That's awful!"

"So is she! No manners at all! 'Who are you?' What a way to talk! Uncouth little savage!"

From the running and banging in the corridors, it was clear that other people thought their journey was almost over. Harry pulled out his own robes. The ravaged hamper was repacked, and the trunk and bookbag closed up. The boys bumped a bit in the crowded space, and helped each other with stubborn buttons and sleeves gone inside-out. Draco even deigned to give Neville's robe a twitch to straighten it.

"Thanks," Neville murmured.

"Dont mention, it, Longbottom," Draco shrugged. "Quite nice meeting you-always good to know someone from a proper background with decent manners."

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train. It will be taken to the school separately."

Harry's stomach lurched with nerves, and Neville, he saw, looked pale. Draco was always pale, anyway, and so there was no reading anything into his complexion at the moment. The five boys joined the crowd thronging the corridor. The train slowed down and finally stopped. Students pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Draco glanced at him, and gave him a tight smile.

Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"Hagrid!" Harry called back, waving.

"C'mon, follow me-any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

"Who's that?" Neville asked anxiously. "He's huge!"

"Hagrid?" Draco asked at the same time. "Isn't he some sort of servant?"

"He's the Keeper of the Keys, and Professor Snape says he knows everything about the forest and its creatures. He's very nice," Harry assured his friends in a whisper.

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville groped at his pocket anxiously, and then sighed with relief. "Trevor's all right," he told Harry.

Hagrid called over his shoulder, "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec. Jus' round this bend here."

The narrow path opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

A deep breath, and then a loud, collective "Oooooh!"

Harry caught Draco's eye, and then both of them grinned in delight. Neville's round face was full of wonder. Even Crabbe and Goyle seemed impressed by their first sight of Hogwarts.

"Pretty, innit?" Crabbe muttered.

Before them was a fleet of little boats sitting in the dark water by the shore. Hagrid called, "No more'n four to a boat!"

Draco quickly gave orders to his minions. "Right, then. Vince-Greg-you go with Theo Nott over there and that boy with him. It must be Blaise Zabini, but I haven't seen him in years. Harry and I will take Longbottom with us, and-"

Hermione Granger pushed past a gaggle of girls and seated herself in their boat. Draco shut his mouth with a snap. Harry hid a smirk with his hand. Neville helped Hermione make sure that her robe was clear of the water.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then-FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff. They all bent their heads, and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Harry whispered to Draco, quoting The Wind in the Willows, "'There is nothing so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats!'"

Draco did not understand the reference, but agreed, distracted and disarmed by the experience. "Quite fun, really. I've never been in a boat before."

"No more have I. I hope we do that again." Harry wondered if he could persuade Draco and Neville to read The Wind in the Willows. He was still unsure if he was Mole and Draco the Water Rat, or if Neville was Mole, Harry was Water Rat himself, and Draco was a bit like Toad. The one thing he was certain of was that Professor Snape was Mr Badger, Slytherin or not.

Hermione, however, had overheard, and did understand him. "'Simply messing about in boats-or with boats,'" she quoted back. Instantly, Harry felt much more friendly toward her, and gave her a smile as they clambered up a passageway in the rock following after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge oak door. Hagrid called, "Everyone here?" He raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

"It is like being in a story," Hermione whispered to Harry. "I don't think my parents will quite believe me when I tell them about it."

Note: I had to break up Kenneth Grahame's longest word from Wind In the Willows, since it upset fanfictiondotnet.