A/N: Wow, sorry it took so long for me to update. I honestly have no excuse besides the fact that this chapter did not want to be written. So, sorry but the ending is kind of forced, but I am going on a short vacation this weekend so I really wanted to update what I had. I really wanted to include the train ride as well, but I really didn't have any time to write another thousand words or so. Anyway, I do NOT own Harry Potter and I am American, so while I try to use the British dialect from the books, but clearly there will be some slip ups.

Chapter 5

Petunia Dursley opened the door to the small cupboard under the stairs, a revolted expression on her face. "Boy," she snapped at the child sitting on the thin mattress. "I will be taking you to Kings Cross station tomorrow morning. We will be leaving at nine thirty." That said, she slammed the door.

Almost immediately, the door was opened again by the child. Glaring down at her nephew, Petunia wondered if he was going to ask questions about the world she just wanted to forget. She braced herself as he opened his mouth. "Erm … Aunt Petunia… do you know Mrs. Figg down the street? Well… she actually… knows about wizards and stuff, so… she is going to take me to Kings Cross along with helping me with shopping and… things."

Petunia had no idea how to react to this statement. Arching an eyebrow, she addressed her nephew. "Does she expect us to pay her?"

Shocked and slightly confused, Harry hesitantly replied. "No, Aunt Petunia."

The horse faced woman sneered. "Then I honestly don't give a damn how you get to the station. Just have breakfast ready before you leave and do not wake us up." The boy nodded vigorously and Petunia shoved him backwards into the cupboard.

Today is the day! Harry thought in excitement as he flipped the pancakes on the skillet. He had been slightly concerned as to what he should do with the food so it wouldn't be sitting on the counter between the time he left and the time the Dursley's got up, which could have been hours. Most of the problem solved itself when Dudley came downstairs at 7:30 when he smelled bacon. The younger boy was somewhat concerned, but figured that as long as Dudley got enough to eat there would be no complaints.

So the heavy child ended up sitting alone at the table being fed by his malnourished cousin. Half a pack of bacon, four pancakes, three pieces of French toast and four slices of toast later, Dudley wandered into the living room and turned on the television. Harry remained in the kitchen making more pancakes, French toast and bacon, packing it all away in large zip-lock bags and placing those bags in the fridge. Harry then entered the living room and asked Dudley if he would like anything else before he got ready to go. The large blond boy studied his cousin carefully. "Hot chocolate," he grunted, turning back to the TV.

Once Harry was safely in the kitchen he rolled his eyes and poured milk and chocolate syrup into a mug and popped it in the microwave. He knew this wasn't how Aunt Petunia made her precious baby boy's hot chocolate but Harry just wanted to get it over with. So he stirred the drink quickly and put the appropriate amount of whipped cream on, knowing Dudley would never know the difference. Sure enough, the fat kid took the mug without an issue.

Shaking his head at his cousin's ignorance, Harry went to his cupboard to get dressed. After a minute, the child came out in worn jeans and a t-shirt four sizes too large and silently crept up the stairs. As the cupboard was too small to contain both Harry and his school supplies, the space-sufficient trunk containing all Harry's supplies was placed in Dudley's second bedroom. This past month has consisted of much arguing; Petunia felt Harry would eventually have to be moved out of the cupboard, Vernon agreed, but wanted him to remain under the stairs as long as possible. Dudley on the other hand threw a tantrum every time it was mentioned, knowing he would have to surrender one of his rooms. Harry himself was smart enough to stay the hell away whenever he heard the words "boy" and "room" together without "clean the" separating the two.

It took Harry over ten minutes to carefully haul his trunk down the stairs without making a sound. Dudley had actually abandoned the TV in favor of laughing at his scrawny cousin struggle with a strange suitcase that looked extremely heavy. Harry caught the other boy's eye and glared. "You could help me," the smaller boy blurted without thinking.

Dudley's fist collided with Harry's nose, knocking him against the wall. As blood streamed from the boy's broken nose, Harry listened for any movement. To his relief, there was simply a snort from his uncle followed by continued silence. The child then glanced nervously at Dudley from under his bangs as he fumbled for his broken glasses. The fat boy seemed to be considering waking his father, but apparently concluded climbing the stairs would be too much this early.

Sneering at his bleeding cousin, Dudley returned to the living room to watch his shows. After cleaning up (Harry taught himself to reset his nose and dislocated limbs and joints at 7) the young wizard taped his glasses together and stood in the doorway, staring at the clock. "You know, freak?" Dudley suddenly stated from the couch, "I'm planning to take classes at Smeltings. Ones that will teach me how to beat the shit out of you!"

Harry shuttered despite himself. Dudley had taken to swearing constantly, as he convinced his parents that Harry taught him those words. No matter how often Dudley cursed in front of his parents, his cousin is always the one punished.

Dudley continued to smile. "Just wait until you get back from that freak school! I'll finally get to help dad beat the freak out of you!"

The dark haired by considered telling Dudley exactly what "the freak" was; magic. Clearly Dudley had no idea, Harry doubted that his cousin ever heard a fairy tale involving magic or saw a television program with anything more than card tricks and pulling rabbits out of hats. Regardless, Harry resisted the urge, doubting that he would even live long enough to see the train, let alone return to the world where he truly belonged.

Taking a deep breath, Harry dragged his trunk to the front door. "Well, have a nice term, Dudley. Mrs. Figg will surely let Aunt Petunia know when I will be returning."

The blond raised an eyebrow as his cousin left the house. Instead of returning to the television, the boy waddled to the window and watched the much smaller boy drag the large trunk down the block.

"Leanne!" James hollered at 10:45 on the morning of September first.

Throughout the manor, house elves stopped what they were doing, shocked to hear James calling for his daughter instead of the other way around. "Come on!" The man continued to bellow. "You're going to miss the train!"

"Daddy!" The spoiled child whined, righting the world for the various elves. "Why do I have to take the stupid train? Why can't I just Floo to Uncle Al's quarters before the feast?"

James sighed as he adjusted his dress robes. He had already discussed this with Leanne. "Because all students must arrive at Hogwarts by train. They can't just make exceptions for you. Besides Leanne, you know I have to be at my new job by noon."

James had spoken with Mad-Eye Moody and after many paranoid accusations, James was now filing papers and signing warrants until he could take the necessary exams to become an Auror (after 11 years, James was out of shape and Mad-Eye wanted him up to date on procedure.)

"Do you really have to work? We already have loads of money."

"That," her father said in a mildly dangerous tone, "Is Slytherin talk. Having a job has nothing to do with making more money, at least not in this case. I've sat around the house for years, all I want to do is get out of the house and interact with anyone besides house elves, reporters, and an eleven year old girl. Don't you think I deserve that?"

After her father's rant, Leanne looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "Well?" She snapped after a moment. "Aren't we going to miss the stupid train?"

"Thank you very much, sir. I will be back in no more than ten minutes." Mrs. Figg told the cab driver.

"It's no problem, Ma'am. Now are you positive you and your grandson don't need any help with his things?" The cabbie asked, eyeing the heavy trunk, cat carrier and empty bird cage. It all looked like too much for an elderly woman and a 7 year old boy.

"Oh, no thank you." She replied with a glance at her "grandson". "We can manage." With a wave at the driver, the two made their way into Kings Cross Station.

Once they were in the loud, crowded train station, Harry turned to Mrs. Figg. "Why couldn't we just Floo to the platform? I thought we could do that."

"We can, dear. I just wanted to teach you how to get on the platform from the Muggle side, just in case."

"Oh, okay!" Harry exclaimed as he followed Mrs. Figg through the station, trying to spot platform 9 3/4, thinking it and the train would be like the Leaky Cauldron; invisible to Muggles but visible to wizards.

To his disappointment, his friend stopped in front of the brick divider between platforms 9 and 10. Mrs. Figg smirked at the expression on her young companions face. "Alright Harry. Here's platform 9 3/4. Now all you have to do is walk straight through the wall and onto the platform."

"Through the wall?" asked a mortified voice from behind the two.

Harry and Mrs. Figg turned around in horror, only to see a young girl with bushy brown hair. Her parents stood a few feet behind her and at the girl's feet was a trunk similar to Harry's. Seeing the expressions on their faces, the girl rushed to explain. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. It's just, I've only just got my letter and, well… with all the excitement and preparation, my parents and I forgot to ask how to get onto the platform."

To her relief, Mrs. Figg smiled. "Thank goodness. I was afraid that you were a Muggle. No offense, of course." She added after glancing at the girl's parents. "I'm Arabella Figg and this is my neighbor, Harry Jameson."

The young girl smiled in relief. "I'm Hermione Granger, and these are my parents, Matt and Claire."

The older Grangers stepped forward and shook hands with the old woman. "Erm, Mrs. Figg?" Harry said hesitantly. "It's nearly 10:30 and you promised the cab driver you would be back in five minutes."

"Oh! Right you are Harry. Let's just get onto the platform. Best do it at a run if you are frightened."

Harry and Hermione nodded and arranged their trolley. "Ladies first?" Harry suggested, glancing between the girl and the wall.

Hermione scoffed. "I think not." She said much to the amusement of the adults.

With a mocking pout at his new friend, Harry faced the wall and ran. Out of morbid curiosity, the young boy tried to keep his eyes opened as he went through the brick wall, but he instinctively closed his eyes as part of him braced for impact. To his relief, the crash never came. Instead, Harry found himself staring at a huge maroon train and about 100 people scattered around. Mostly parents of Muggleborn students soaking in this stunning new world, though some were parents dropping off their children early before heading to work.

The boy was shoved from behind as Hermione bolted through the barrier as if the Muggle side of the station was on fire. The black haired boy shook his head before helping gather the luggage that fell off the girl's cart. "Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry! I've never been so clumsy before."

Harry smiled kindly at Hermione, who looked close to tears. "It's alright Hermione. I'm sure it's just nerves." The boy said as the Grangers entered the platform the same way their daughter had, though without running over any children.

Mrs. Figg raced in shortly after the couple. "Harry dear, I'm so sorry, but I have to get back to the cab. Have a wonderful year; do write as often as you wish." With that, the elderly woman gave the embarrassed child a kiss on the cheek before leaving him with his cat and empty owl cage.

A/N: Ok. So at this point, you should not expect regular updates, but I will do my best to update at least every two weeks (or at least have a draft written by that time.)

On a personal note; if anyone is a fan of team starkid, then you will know that they are doing that huge summer thing. As you can most likely tell by the fact that I can't remember what they are calling it, I was unable to get tickets (actually, I couldn't afford plane tickets to get to Chicago, but the point is I can't go.) Anyway, if you are going have a great time and see if you can make a video of any of their late night special things (God, I sound like an awful fan, but I just got off work and still have to pack for the beach. My brain is not working right now, I'm just happy that I hand write my chapters first.) Anyway, if you are not a Starkid fan, sorry to bother you with this random Authors Note that has nothing to do with this story, just the interest of the author who is pissed that she can't afford to see Starkid.