A/N: Thanks to all of you who have left me comments on the last chapters! I'm very happy that you seem to be enjoying the story so far! Special thanks to Fast Frank, who left a comment on each chapter. As you're a guest, I cannot reply in person.

Thank you again to Beyondtheforest, who reminded me that summaries at the beginning of each chapter might be helpful, as you'll probably have to wait a little longer for updates as the story progresses - depending on how much time my wonderful beta Dreamthrower has, who's correcting my mistakes in her free time!

Summary of the previous chapter(s)

When Harry is eight, he shows the first signs of accidental magic and apparates to the school roof. Also, for the first time ever, he hears the voice of a boy named Tom in his head. Harry and Tom become friends. Both believe they have super powers - like talking to snakes and making things move just with the power of their minds. They practice these skills a lot, especially to help Harry get out of his closet whenever he wants.

Tom likes to read (especially guide books on psychology) and helps Harry, who had been struggling a bit, to love reading, too. The public library becomes their regular hide-out.

They soon discover that they can read different books as long as they are in their line of vision.

Things with the Dursleys have improved somewhat, as Harry, with Tom's cunning and his layman's knowledge in psychology, gets better at handling them.

One day, a mysterious letter arrives, inviting them to board a train at King's Cross on the 1st. They wonder if it's a sort of hoax, but decide to go and check just in case ...

Into the Unknown

On Sunday, September 1stbefore dawn and long before the Dursleys would rise, Harry slipped out of his cupboard, dressed in the only pair of trousers that fit and the scratchy pullover. In his schoolbag was his old school uniform from St. Grogory's: Charcoal trousers, two white shirts, a dark grey pullover and a grey-and-orange tie. It was the only item on the list he was able to procure, as every kid had to have a uniform, no matter whether their guardians thought it necessary or not. Harry had been scared there for a second when Aunt Petunia had tried to dye some of Dudley's old shirts grey to become part of Harry's new Stonewell High uniform, but thankfully that hadn't worked out as planned. They had come out all patchy, looking like a dead elephant's skin, and Tom's reverse psychology had worked wonders once more.

"Don't worry, Aunt Petunia," Harry had said consolingly, repeating what Tom was whispering to him. "I'm sure teachers and students will understand that we simply don't have the money to buy two whole sets of school uniforms new. And if they don't, I don't mind being looked down upon and talked about, and I'm sure you don't, either."

His aunt had blanched at the idea of people whispering behind their backs that the Dursleys couldn't afford a decent school uniform for both boys, and had put the elephant skin onto the pile of everyday clothes to be worn around the house and while Harry was doing yard work. A week later, Harry gota second-hand, but decent looking uniform for Stonewell High. Unfortunately, it was still upstairs in his aunt's closet – or maybe not unfortunately, as the new uniform was rather ugly in its light grey and yellow. He liked his old one much better, and he intended to put iton if he made it onto the train.

With his meagre possessions in his bag, Harry slipped out of his cupboard and locked it again from the outside. He wished he could see the Dursleys' faces when they opened it later, onlyto find Harry gone, seemingly vanished into thin air.

Careful not to make any noise, he and Tom left the house and hastened to the train station.

Procuring the money for the trip had once more led to a small argument between him and Tom. Harry had wanted to take the money for the fare out of Aunt Petunia's wallet, feeling that as his aunt and guardian, covering Harry's basic expenses was her responsibility. But Tom had argued that Aunt Petunia would surely note if any money was missing and that they shouldn't risk it. He had suggested taking it out of Dudley's piggybank, school bag and trouser pockets instead. Dudley had more money than he could spend and was rather bad at keeping track of it. He wasn't very good at math, would probably never notice, and Harry would need a bit of spare money in case they got stranded somewhere.

It was stealing, plain and simple, and didn't sit well with Harry. But he could see that Tom had a point. So even if reluctantly, he had nicked the money for the train fare from Dudley, hoping it would be enough to get him to London. Soon, Harry was on an early morning train bound for Waterloo Station which should arrive within one and a half hours. From there, it was another 20 minute ride on the Tube to King's Cross.

Harry had planned to arrive early, so he had ample time to search for platform 9 ¾. He had never been at such a huge train station before and it was difficult to get his bearings. King's Cross was a terminus station, so all platforms lay neatly one next to the other, two tracks sharing one platform between them.

As expected, there was a platform 9 and a platform 10, which had a brick wall with huge arches running along the middle. The few people Harry politely asked for directions to platform 9 ¾ obviously thought he was joking and reacted gruffly or just rolled their eyes. Still, Harry wasn't willing to give up.

"If this school exists, several other kids should be on the train departing from London," he reasoned. "I can't possibly be the only one. Let's just wait and see if we can spot anyone who looks like they might be traveling to a magical school."

Tom was more pessimistic than Harry, but he always was. So Harry ignored his mumbling that this was most likely a huge waste of time (not that they had anything better to do) and would get them into a world of trouble if they couldn't catch the train (he definitely had a point there). He sat down on a bench and observed the people coming onto the platform.

At half past 10, Harry's attention was caught by a rather suspicious looking family of four, who seemed oddly out of place. Their clothes wereoff – they were mismatched in style and colours in a way that didn't look intentional. Both of the kids – one teenage boy and a smaller girl – carried big, old-fashioned trunks you could only find in retro shops selling them as decorative items. Harry followed them with his eyes, curious to see where they would go – until they simply vanished.

"Where have they gone?" wondered Tom, suddenly excited again. "They were right there next to the barrier until about three seconds ago. Now I can't see them anywhere."

"I bet they were students of Hogwarts. They have to be!" Thrilled, Harry kept his eyes on the platform where the family had vanished, and soon spotted another family that behaved a bit out of the ordinary. They looked perfectly normal in the way they were dressed – Aunt Petunia would have girl was about Harry's age and had a head full of bushy hair. Her trunk was almost the same as those of the other kids. The family seemed a bit unsure about where to go and kept looking around as if to check if anybody was paying them attention. They also stood close to the barrier, the girl was even leaning against it, until she suddenly seemed to fall right through it.

"Did she just…" asked Tom with baited breath.

"Yep," said Harry happily. "She sort of melted into the stone wall and was gone. And look, her parents now are gone, too."

"Let's go then and give ita try. That looked easy enough."

Harry grabbed his bag and slowly made his way over to the barrier. It looked pretty solid, but he didn't want to draw attention by running his hand over it to see if it truly was. He decided the best way to do it would be to emulate the girl and to just casually lean against it and see what happened. Even though he sort of expected it, he was still shocked when the seemingly solid wall gave way and he simply fell through it. Getting up quickly, Harry found himself in another world.

At the platform (9 ¾ said an old-fashioned rusty sign) stood an enormous black and red steam engine with six carriages behind it. There were more people bustling about than Harry had seen coming through the barrier– he would surely have noticed them in their old fashioned dresses, long capes and pointed hats. He would also have noticed the many cages with owls which immediately had him worried again. Should he really have caught an owl? But the letter had stated clearly that owls should have been sent to Hogwarts by the end of July already. Maybe more kids had had trouble with the task?

"These people look so like wizards and witches from fairy tale books that it's a cliché come to life," commented Tom. "I bet they fly on brooms, too."

Harry found the idea exciting and hoped it was true. Imagine flying like that!

The girl Harry had seen stepping through the wall hugged her parents goodbye and made for the train, dragging her trunk behind looked so comfortingly normal in all this madness that Harry quickly took after her. Somehow he had the impression that she was new to all this as well, just a bit more well-informed. Hopefully she was someone who could give him a few answers.

He offered help with her trunk which the girl gratefully accepted, and together, they moved it into one of the free compartments. "Where's yours?" the girl asked.

"I don't have one," Harry answered with a timid smile and pointed to his school bag. "All I have is in here."

The girl frowned, then her eyes widened. "Oh!" she said, looking impressed. "Extension charm?"

Harry had no idea what she was talking about and just shrugged non-committally. "Would you mind if I sat here as well?"

"No, of course not! I'm not expecting anybody – in fact, I don't even know anybody here. I'm new to all of this – first year Hogwarts, you 's all rather overwhelming, isn't it? I could hardly believe it when Professor McGonagall showed up to give me my letter. And then Diagon Alley! It was like a dream, wasn't it? Who would have believed … certainly not my parents, they're dentists. I mean - not that there's anything wrong with being a dentist, of course, but they tend to be scientific people, and…"

Harry could only stare at her as a flood of words came rushing out of her mouth as if a dam had broken.

"Oh my," said Tom, flummoxed. "Just what's the matter with her?"

"She's probably just excited," said Harry in defence of the girl, who now seemed to notice that she had just verbally run her fellow traveller over like the steam train she was actually sitting in.

"Sorry," she said, blushing. "I tend to talk a lot when I get nervous." She took a deep breath to calm herself, then held out a hand. "Hermione Granger. Pleased to meet you."

Harry took her hand, shook it and slipped into the bench opposite from her. "Nice to meet you as well. I'm Harry Potter."

The words had an unexpected effect on the girl. Her chin fell, her eyes widened. "THE Harry Potter? Wow – I hadn't guessed … though I probably should have! You're eleven now. Of course you'd start Hogwarts this year, too!"

Harry frowned. "Sorry - do you know me?" He was pretty sure he had never seen her in his life.

"Well, I know of you, of course I do! You've come up in nearly every book I've read since I got my letter!"

Harry blinked. "Uhm. Sorry. I really have no idea what you're talking about. What books?"

Hermione pulled open her bag. "I have most of them in my trunk, but here's two of my favourite ones: "Hogwarts, a History" and 'Most Notable Events in the20th Century'. Have you not read either of them?"

"I can't even remember them being on the book list," said Tom. "Do you think we were expected to read them?"

Harry shook his head and said to Hermione: "And before you ask: I didn't catch the owl either. Until I got my Hogwarts letter about a month ago, I didn't even know I'm supposedly a wizard. Therefore, I can't possibly feature in any book about the wizarding world. There must be another Harry Potter. It's probably a very common name."

The girl stared at him in disbelief. "That seems like a really funny coincidence. But the Harry Potter I'm talking about is from a well-known wizarding family. His parents were magical."

"Were? Are they dead?"

"Yes. Killed by a dark wizard about ten years ago. Their child not only survived, but vanquished You-Know-Who."

"No, actually, I don't know. Who?"

"The dark wizard. Voldemort. Though we're not supposed to say his name for whatever reason. Everybody calls him You-Know-Who."

"That is weird," remarked Tom. "Especially if you mention him to people who don't know him."

"My parents are dead, too," Harry said to Hermione. "They died in a car accident."

"I'm very sorry. How tragic. So – you live with relatives?"

"My aunt and uncle, yes."

"And your parents, they weren't magical?"

"I don't think they were. My aunt doesn't speak highly of them. They died when I was very young."

"Your aunt doesn't speak highly of anyone," said Tom emphatically, "and you shouldn't believe a word that comes out of her mouth. If she says your parents were worthless, they were probably highly intelligent, upstanding people."

Harry smiled affectionately.

"Still, a strange coincidence …" mused the girl. "You and your namesake are both orphans who lost their parents when you were very young." She looked at him curiously, then her eyes narrowed. "Are you having one over me? That's a scar on your forehead! You ARE THE Harry Potter!"

"The scar is from the accident," said Harry, confused. "I've always had it. Besides I'm not a liar, and I wouldn't antagonize the first person I met in the wizarding world by pranking her. Why would I do that? It's not even funny."

Hermione looked unsure of herself now. "But if you are … how can you not know you're famous? Why would anybody tell you your parents died in a car accident when they were killed by a dark wizard? Why wouldn't Professor McGonagall tell you the truth when she came to see you?"

"I never saw Professor McGonagall. I just got her letter."

"She didn't come to your place? But then – how did you believe that it was all real? How could your aunt and uncle believe it?"

"Well, there are things I can do that other kids can't. I once transported myself onto a school roof. And I have telekinetic mind powers. Magic was finally an explanation that made sense."

Hermione nodded. "I floated things, too, when I was little. But I never did anything as spectacular as jump on a school roof. You're probably very powerful. After all, your parents were both wizards."

They were both startled as aloud whistle blew and then the train lurched into motion.

"We're leaving," Hermione stated the obvious, looking out the corridor window to the platform and the waving parents they were passing by. "It's a bit disconcerting. I've never left home for longer than a day. I'm going to miss my parents."

"Well, I'm not going to miss my aunt and uncle at all. But they'll be very surprised to find me gone."

Hermione frowned. "They don't know where you are?"

"No. They know nothing of Hogwarts, and they would never have allowed me to go there. I snuck out early this morning."

"But … if they don't know anything and you never saw Professor McGonagall … how did you prepare? How did you get all your stuff?"

"You mean the things on the list?" Harry shrugged. "I didn't. Where was I supposed to get all that? There was no return address on the letter, so I couldn't even write and ask."

Now Hermione stared at him in shock. "That's awful!" she exclaimed. "What are you supposed to do without all your school stuff?"

Harry's face fell at her obvious distress. Maybe the situation was more dire than he had thought. "You don't think they'll kick me out, do you?"

"No, no way! You're Harry Potter! And besides, it's hardly your fault. I can't understand why Professor McGonagall didn't come to see you. She visits all the Muggleborn ... oh."

"Oh what?"

"You're not a Muggleborn, strictly speaking. You were just raised like one."

"What's a Muggleborn?" asked Tom.

"Yeah, what's a Muggelborn?" repeated Harry aloud.

"A witch or a wizard born to Muggles – non-magical people, that is. It happens every once in a while. In the books I read, it's often implied that the magic of Muggleborns is weaker. I guess I'll just have to work extra hard to keep up with pureblood witches and wizards."

"Purebloods?" Harry frowned, not liking the sound of that at all. "Like the blood of some people is somehow purer and better than of others? Didn't they have that sort of thinking back in the 40's in Germany? Which ended in a world war and the Holocaust?"

He suddenly felt Tom shiver inside him as he remembered the bombs falling on whatever city his orphanage had been in at the time. As nebulous as the memory was, it still haunted him.

"I'm not thrilled about that distinction either. But that's not something you'll need to worry about. You're a pureblood – or at least a half-blood, given that your mother was a Muggleborn witch as well."

"She was?"

"Here, you should read this chapter in the book. It's all about the night your parents died." She opened at the page she wanted him to start reading and gave him the book. "It's really a shame you were never told anything about it."

Harry and Tom did as she suggested and found the story more than mildly confusing. As Tom pointed out, it opened more questions than it actually answered. Supposedly, the Potter family had been attacked in their house in Godric's Hollow by the dark wizard who had dubbed himself 'Lord Voldemort' but was commonly referred to as 'You-Know-Who'. Both his parents were killed, but when he tried to kill infant Harry, the killing curse he used somehow rebounded, giving Harry the scar on his forehead and vanquishing You-Know-Who for good.

"Maybe people found the name 'Lord Voldemort' so ridiculous that they chose to call him that instead," suggested Tom. "Unless he's a true Lord of the Realm? Or do wizards have their own gentry?"

"I don't know," answered Harry aloud. Talking to Tom felt so natural that, especially when in conversation with another at the same time, he sometimes forgot to keep his part of it silent.

"You don't know what?" asked Hermione, thinking he had spoken to her.

"If this Lord Voldemort is truly a lord."

"He isn't. I checked. He's not known in the Muggle world at all. He seems to appear out of nowhere, there isn't even a mention of his family. And after that fateful Halloween night, he disappeared just as mysteriously."

"I thought that me 'vanquishing' him meant he died?"

"Well, the wizarding world at large seems to believe he did. But not Dumbledore, who always warned that he might be back."

"Who's Dumbledore?"

"Hogwarts' headmaster. Who's also the Head of the Wizengamot and the most famous and respected wizard in the wizarding world."

"Who can't even run his school properly," remarked Tom. "Otherwise you wouldn't be sitting here with no school supplies and no idea about the world that was hidden from you. I wonder who's responsible for that."

"We'll find out," assured Harry, biting his lips as he realized he had spoken aloud again. "What exactly happened and how I ended up with the Dursleys and no knowledge of all of this," he quickly added for Hermione's benefit.

"It's said that you were placed somewhere safe, where followers of the Dark Lord could not find you. I thought you lived with wizards – strong wizards, who'd be able to protect you. A lot of people believe that you were raised abroad."

Tom snorted. "You certainty weren't safe where you lived. Not from dark wizards nor from the family supposed to protect you."

"No wizard ever approached me, neither dark nor light, so I suppose I was safe enough. Can I borrow the book for a while, Hermione? I would really like to read it. I guess I have a lot to catch up on."

"You're welcome to. And you should read the one about Hogwarts as well, it's really interesting and will probably come in handy."

"Thank you!" Harry put both books on the table in front of him, hoping he would have a good amount of time before the train arrived."

"Err… do you have any idea how long this trip will take?"

"About eight hours."

"Eight hours?!" Harry's chin fell. "Just where are we traveling to? I'm sure England isn't that big …"

"It's a steam engine. And we're going to Scotland."

"Well, I suppose I have ample time to read then," he said, opening both books as he was used to doing. Hermione got another book out of her bag and started to read as well. After about ten minutes she looked up again, frowning at Harry, who kept turning the pages of both books in synchrony.

"Are you reading two books at the same time?" she asked in disbelief.

"Just cross referencing." Usually, that would shut anybody up who enquired, but Harry had forgotten that these were her books and so she knew his reply was rubbish.

And sure enough: "But those are on entirely different subjects," Hermione insisted.

Harry shrugged. "It's something I've always done. I like being able to skip between books."

"It should be impossible for a human being to read two books at the same time and at the speed you seem to be reading them," Hermione said earnestly. "It is very weird, but I wish I could do that!"

"You know, after knowing we're wizards, sitting on a steam engine that left from a secret platform 9 ¾ heading for a magical school in an invisible castle that apparently has ghosts living there, we shouldn't be saying anything is impossible."

"Right. I'm a witch, though."

"Sorry?"

"Males are wizards, females are witches."

"Oh, okay." And that was the last they spoke for a long while. It was an amiable silence, though. Hermione seemed to get lost in a book as easily as Harry and Tom did. The book on Hogwarts was a well of information. Harry learned that it was situated on the border of a lake, that it had been founded centuries ago by four famous wizards and still sorted students into four respective houses. And Harry hadn't known that he wouldn't be taught Maths, English or Geography, but strange sounding subjects like Transfiguration, Potions or Arithmancy – whatever that was. It all sounded truly magical, and Harry was very happy that he had boarded the train.