Thank you to everybody who has followed and favourited so far!
This chapter is another one which closely resembles canon, however I can't wait to get to the juicier parts of the story – I have big plans. In the meantime, hang in there and I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter.
Chapter 3 – The One with the Train Journey
When Iris got back to Privet Drive, Uncle Vernon's company car was already back on the driveway. Unfortunately, it seemed the Dursleys had managed to somehow find their way off of the rock despite Iris and Hagrid stealing their boat.
She let herself in through the front door. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were sat in the living room and turned to look at her. Both of them processed the fact that she was holding a trunk full of spellbooks in one hand and a caged snowy owl in the other. Aunt Petunia narrowed her eyes maliciously and Uncle Vernon turned a violent shade of purple, but neither of them spoke. Iris sent them both a wide smile to further annoy them before hauling the trunk and cage up the stairs to her new bedroom.
As she walked past Dudley's room, she saw his door was slightly ajar and he was peeking out at her as though he expected her to explode. She locked eye contact with him and shot him a vicious grin. He squealed like a pig and slammed the door shut immediately.
Iris let out a genuine laugh. She could get used to this. Maybe this month wouldn't be quite as bad as she'd feared.
-o0o-
Over the next few weeks, Iris could feel that the power dynamic had changed at number four, Privet Drive – and she loved it. No longer was she the one living in constant fear of being beaten, or starved and locked in a cupboard. Instead, it was the other three who sent her nervous glances. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia tried to hide behind a guise of indifference, but one off-hand comment about how Hagrid was watching the house in case they mistreated her (an obvious lie) and neither of them could hide their fear.
The new dynamic between Iris and Dudley was her favourite development, however. Rather than seeking her out to use her as a punching bag as he so often did before, he was petrified to even be in the same room as her, often letting out girlish screams and running whenever she appeared. She made a game of this and even managed to frighten him away from dessert a few times. Therefore, he tried to spend as much time out of the house as he could, no doubt using his bullying talents on other kids with his gang now he was too afraid of his favourite target.
Without the constant chores and beatings, Iris used all of this newfound free time she had to read through her schoolbooks and learn more about magic. She named her snowy owl Hedwig, a name she had found in A History of Magic. She found that book particularly interesting, especially reading about the Statue of Secrecy, which came about due to the large number of witch burnings done by Muggles. She didn't understand why the wizards who fought back against the Muggles throughout history were often deemed as dark wizards and portrayed as the bad guys.
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was also an extremely interesting read. Iris imagined how cool it would be to travel around the world seeking out some of these mystical creatures.
She did also enjoy reading about the various spells she would be learning to cast throughout her first year, however not being able to actually attempt any of them was killing her. It had been hard to resist just pulling out her wand and waving it – back in Ollivander's shop it had felt like the most natural thing in the world and now she felt incomplete without her wand in her hand.
Needless to say, she was anxiously counting down the days until she got to go to Hogwarts, to be with her own kind and to do magic.
-o0o-
When August the thirty-first finally arrived, Iris was so excited she was practically bouncing. One thing she'd forgotten to do, however, was speak to her aunt and uncle about taking her to King's Cross tomorrow morning. So, she headed down to the living room where all three Dursleys were watching a quiz show.
She cleared her throat to announce her presence and Dudley let out a high-pitched scream before fleeing the room, his pig tail jiggling between his cheeks as he ran.
"Uncle Vernon, I need you to give me a lift to King's Cross tomorrow to take the train to Hogwarts," she stated confidently, even though she was nervous despite herself.
"Why can't that … man take you?" he asked, clearly referring to Hagrid.
"He works at Hogwarts," Iris reminded him, "so he'll have to get there earlier. I'm sure he wouldn't mind paying us a visit later on if you don't take me though."
Uncle Vernon went purple briefly but seemed to just about keep his anger under control.
"Where is this school, anyway?"
"I don't know," answered Iris, pulling her train ticket out of her pocket and examining it for the first time.
"I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," she read.
"Platform what?" his uncle asked, staring.
"Nine and three-quarters."
"Don't talk rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "there is no platform nine and three-quarters."
"How do you know? Maybe you lot just can't see it because you're Muggles," said Iris defensively, remembering how only witches and wizards could see the Leaky Cauldron.
Uncle Vernon once again struggled to contain his anger, not liking being called a Muggle as though it was an insult.
"Barking," he eventually said, "howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."
"Why?" asked Iris. The Dursleys rarely left Little Whinging.
"Taking Dudley to hospital," growled Uncle Vernon. "Got to get that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings."
Iris snorted loudly, imagining her uncle trying to explain to a confused doctor why his son had a pig's tail.
"Why bother?" she said, "I think it suits him."
Uncle Vernon turned violently purple again and a vein began to throb in the side of his head, so Iris chose that moment to leave the room and rush back upstairs.
-o0o-
Iris woke at five o'clock the next morning and was too full of nervous anticipation to get back to sleep. Instead, she got dressed early in some Muggle clothes Dudley outgrew about five years ago – she figured she would be better off to change into her school robes on the train.
She turned to view her reflection in an old mirror hung on the wall. She looked just as small and scrawny as ever, the effect made even greater by the fact Dudley's clothes were far too big for her. She doubted she looked how her future classmates would expect the famous Iris Potter to look. Both Hagrid and Mr Ollivander had told her she looked a lot like her mother. Iris wondered if her dark red hair or her bright green eyes were inherited from her mother or not – she'd never seen a photograph of either of her parents.
A few hours later, all four inhabitants of number four, Privet Drive were in the car, heading into London. Dudley was squirming uncomfortably, both because he was sat so close to Iris and his pig tail appeared to be painful to sit on. Iris would have poked fun at him if her mind wasn't on other things.
Around half past ten, they arrived at King's Cross. To Iris' surprise, Uncle Vernon placed her heavy trunk onto a trolley for her. She added Hedwig's cage on top. Uncle Vernon's unusually helpful attitude was explained as soon as they reached the station.
"Well, there you are, girl," he said, with a nasty grin. "Platform nine – platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"
He wasn't wrong. Iris had expected there to be something only she could see, maybe an entrance to the platform, but there was nothing out of the ordinary there at all.
"Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. Iris watched the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing and pointing at her. She found herself desperately wishing they would crash the car – she hated them with every fibre of her being. Suddenly, as they were rounding the corner, the wheels seemed to lose grip on the road, and Uncle Vernon's brand new company car skidded and hit the curb. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to have done too much damage and Uncle Vernon was able to correct the car and continue driving.
Iris blinked. Had she done that? She had just been wishing the Dursleys crashed and then they had almost done exactly that – she'd never seen her Uncle do anything like that before.
Iris shook her head and headed to where she hoped the invisible platform would somehow materialise. She wondered if she had to tap a certain brick on a wall like Hagrid did to get into Diagon Alley. She was just about to pull out her wand to try when she heard something that caught her attention.
"– packed with Muggles, of course –"
Iris spun around in the direction of the voice. The speaker was a plump woman who was walking with her family, consisting of four boys and one girl, all with flaming red hair – more ginger than red when compared to Iris' own red hair. The fact each child had a trunk and one had an owl confirmed to Iris that they were heading for Hogwarts too. She wheeled her cart around and followed.
"Now, what's the platform number?" said the woman.
"Nine and three-quarters!" piped up the small girl. "Mum, can't I go …"
"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."
The tallest of the boys marched straight at the barrier between the two platforms then vanished. Iris blinked.
"Fred, you next," said the plump woman.
"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly woman, call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"
"Sorry, George, dear."
"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and he too marched straight at the barrier and disappeared. His twin followed suit.
"Go on Ron, your turn," she prompted. The youngest of the boys walked quickly towards the barrier and then he was gone too. A few moments later, the woman and the girl were gone too and Iris was alone.
It looked as though she just had to walk straight at the divide between platforms nine and ten and she'd presumably re-appear on platform nine and three-quarters. Well, there was no other real option.
Iris closed her eyes, pushed her trolley out in front of her and walked briskly at the same spot the red-headed family had done and thankfully, she hit nothing solid. When she re-opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of a massive scarlet steam engine. In addition, all around her were cats, owls, witches and wizards and fortunately everyone was too busy to pay her any mind.
She pushed her trolley as close as she could to an entrance to the train then attempted to heave her trunk off of the trolley and through the train doors. She hadn't made much progress when she heard a voice behind her.
"Want a hand?" She wheeled around to see it was one of the red-headed twins she'd watched enter the platform.
His eyes flicked to her forehead then widened.
"Blimey," he said. "Are you –?"
"Yes," she answered shortly. He gawked at her briefly then went a little red when she raised an eyebrow at him.
"Sorry, I'm George Weasley. Let me help you with that," he said, bending down to pick up one end of her trunk. "Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!" he shouted over his shoulder.
Fred came over and he too stared at her scar in surprise. "Fred Weasley," he said once his shock had abated, holding out his hand.
"Iris Potter," said Iris, shaking his hand.
Together, he and George carried Iris' cage onto the train and into an empty compartment. Iris followed them with Hedwig.
"Thanks," said Iris gratefully, sitting down.
"No problem," said one of them – Iris had lost track of which was which.
"Pleasure to help the girl who lived," grinned the other twin.
Iris grimaced slightly. She hoped that wasn't some sort of nickname she had been given.
"Is it true you were brought up by elves in Scandinavia and killed a dragon at age six?" asked the first twin.
"What?" asked Iris incredulously. "Do people really think that?"
However, before the twins could respond, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.
"Fred? George? Are you there?"
"Coming, Mum."
With one last look at Iris, the twins hopped off the train.
Iris watched them re-join the rest of their family through the window.
Their mother was fussing over her youngest son, Ron, whilst the twins contented themselves by teasing both him and their elder brother Percy. Iris tried not to eavesdrop too heavily but then something one of the twins said caught her attention.
"Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"
Iris leant back so she wasn't visible through the window from where they were standing.
"Who?"
"Iris Potter!"
Iris heard the young girl's voice.
"Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see her, Mum, oh please …"
"She's a girl Ginny, not something you goggle at in a zoo. Is she really, Fred? How do you know?"
"Saw her scar. It's really there – like lightning."
"I hope you didn't bother the poor girl just because of who she is," said their mother suspiciously.
"Nah, course not! We helped her carry her trunk onto the train. Now that you mention it though, do you think she remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"
Their mother now became very stern.
"I forbid you to ask her, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though she needs reminding of that on her first day of school."
"All right, keep your hair on."
A whistle sounded.
"Hurry up!" said their mother, and the boys all hopped onto the train. Their younger sister started to cry.
"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."
"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."
"George!"
"Only joking, Mum."
The train began to move. Iris watched as all the parents stood back and waved. Ginny ran alongside the train until it gathered too much speed and she too had to settle for waving.
Iris felt a great leap of excitement. She didn't know what she was going to – but it had to be a lot better than what she was leaving behind.
The door to her compartment slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in.
"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Iris. "Everywhere else is full."
"Go ahead," said Iris and the boy sat down. He glanced up at Iris then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked.
"Hey, Ron."
The twins were back, grinning.
"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."
"Right," mumbled Ron.
"Iris," said the other twin, "this is our little brother, Ron. Don't mind him, he's just not as cool as us. Anyway, see you later."
"Bye," said Iris and Ron.
The twins shut the compartment door behind them.
"Are you really Iris Potter?" Ron blurted out.
Iris nodded, thinking that should have been pretty obvious by now.
"So that's where You-Know-Who – ?"
"Yes," said Iris, "but I can't remember it.
"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.
"Well, I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."
"Wow," said Ron, staring at Iris in wonder. After a few moments, he went bright red and looked out of the window again.
"Are your family all witches and wizards?" Iris asked interestedly.
"Er – yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."
Iris didn't blame them. She'd never want to talk or even think about the Dursleys if she hadn't been forced to live with them.
"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"
"So people don't really think I was raised by Scandinavian elves?" she asked, relieved.
"Did Fred and George tell you that?" asked Ron, smiling slightly. "Don't believe anything they tell you. So what are the Muggles like?"
"Horrible," answered Iris. "Wish I grew up with a magical family."
"Are they that bad?" asked Ron in surprise. "My dad loves Muggles. He's fascinated by them."
"Worse," said Iris darkly. "Trust me, I've already met more nice wizards than Muggles and I've only spent one full day in the magical world."
Ron clearly had no idea how to respond to that, so Iris asked him another question.
"So what's it like having three wizard brothers?"
Ron went on to reveal that he in fact had five wizard brothers, two of which had already graduated from Hogwarts and were living abroad. From the sound of it, he didn't like being the youngest of six sons, indicating the robes, wand and pet rat he'd inherited from his brothers. In response to that, Iris pointed out her own clothes, which were inherited from Dudley once he grew out of them and this seemed to cheer Ron up.
The two of them continued to speak for quite some time and Iris learned a great deal she hadn't known before about the wizarding world, such as what kind of jobs you could get as an adult, and exactly what the sport of Quidditch was (Ron went into great detail).
Around half-past twelve, a lady pushing a trolley came past selling sweets and Iris bought a huge pile for her and Ron to share – she had never had any money to spend before, let alone been able to eat many sweets with a greedy pig like Dudley around.
With the exception of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans, magical treats were far nicer than their Muggle counterparts. Iris particularly enjoyed the Cauldron Cakes. When she came around to trying the Chocolate Frogs, Iris got her first look at someone she had heard an awful lot about.
"So this is Dumbledore," Iris muttered, looking at the collectable card that came in her Chocolate Frog. He had half-moon glasses, a crooked nose and long silver hair, beard and moustache included.
"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa – thanks –"
Iris turned over her card and read:
Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten-pin bowling.
So this was the wizard who ordered her to be dropped off at the Dursleys all those years ago. Iris felt anger swirl up inside her. She certainly had a few questions she wanted to ask the man when she got the chance and he better have some good answers to them.
It turned out Ron got Morgana's card, not Agrippa's, so he gave it to Iris and she contented herself for the next few minutes reading about famous witches and wizards of the past, and why they were so well-renowned.
Outside the window, the train was now winding its way through forested hills, slowly making its way toward Hogwarts.
There was a knock on the door of their compartment and a round-faced boy who looked very nervous came in.
"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"
Ron and Iris shook their heads. The boy wailed.
"I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"
"We'll come find you if we see him," said Iris.
He nodded gratefully and left.
"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."
Ron's rat, Scabbers, was fast asleep on his lap.
"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," Ron said in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look …"
He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very old and battered-looking wand.
"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out," said Ron, looking embarrassed. "Anyway –"
But before he could try the spell, the compartment door slid open again.
It was the round-faced toadless boy again, but this time he was accompanied by a girl with bushy brown hair and quite large front teeth. She already had her school robes on.
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. Her voice sounded a little bossy.
"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron.
"Oh, are you doing magic?" said the girl, noticing the wand in Ron's hand. "Let's see it, then."
"Er – all right," he said, looking taken aback. He cleared his throat.
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."
Nothing happened.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? 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, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"
Iris didn't think the girl had breathed throughout her entire speech.
"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.
"Iris Potter," said Iris.
"Are you really?" said 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."
"Great," said Iris sarcastically, "so you know all about how my parents were murdered."
Hermione went a little pink.
"Sorry, I didn't mean – I shouldn't have –"
Iris took pity on the girl. "It's fine. Guess I have to get used to the fact that's all anyone knows me for."
There was an awkward silence.
"Anyway," said Hermione, "We'd better go look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."
She and Neville left the compartment.
"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. "Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."
"I thought you told me never to listen to anything they told me," said Iris, grinning. "Maybe you should learn to take your own advice."
Ron laughed. "Yeah, you're probably right."
"What are all the houses?" asked Iris curiously.
"Well, all my brothers are in Gryffindor," said Ron, looking nervous. "Mum and Dad were in it too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. Ravenclaw wouldn't be bad, I guess – that's basically the house for smart people – that Hermione girl will probably be one. If I became a Hufflepuff, Fred and George would never let me live it down. They're not bad, but they're sort of a house for the people who don't fit into the other three. Imagine if they put me in Slytherin, though."
"What's their deal?" asked Iris.
"Slytherin's full of all the blood purists," said Ron with disgust. "They treat all the Muggleborns badly just because they think having pureblood wizards as parents makes them superior. You-Know-Who was a Slytherin."
"But it's not the Muggleborns' fault they have Muggles for parents," said Iris.
"I know," said Ron, "but try telling that to families like the Malfoys."
Iris furrowed her brow. She was sure she'd heard that name before. Funnily enough, her unasked question was answered for her as the compartment door slid open yet again. Three boys were there, two of which looked like they were bodyguards for the third. Iris recognised the third as the boy she had spoken to in Madam Malkin's robe shop.
"Draco Malfoy," she said, remembering his name.
Draco smirked. "Iris Potter."
"Who are those two?" asked Iris, indicating the larger boys stood either side of Draco.
"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," he said carelessly. "They're friends of mine."
Ron snorted. Draco turned his attention to him.
"No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford."
He turned back to Iris.
"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
As he did in Diagon Alley, Draco held out his hand towards Iris. She didn't move.
"All the Weasleys I've met have been perfectly nice so far," she said calmly. "It seems a little unfair you're judging Ron just based off what your father told you about his family."
Draco went a little pink.
"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and it'll rub off on you."
Ron stood up angrily, his face reddening.
"Say that again," he said.
"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Draco sneered at Ron.
"Ron, sit down," said Iris. "Draco, there's no need to insult people you don't even know yet. I didn't shake your hand because I want to make my own judgement on people, without just believing what others tell me. You should do the same."
Draco opened his mouth then closed it again, looking at Iris.
"Come on, boys," he said. He left the compartment with Crabbe and Goyle following in his wake.
Ron took a deep breath and sat down.
"You've met Malfoy before?" he asked.
"Once," said Iris, "in Diagon Alley. He seems very judgemental."
"My dad's told me all about his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."
That was interesting, thought Iris. She really didn't know a lot about the wizarding war, but if Draco's father really followed the man that killed Iris' parents, she wasn't sure if she should be on her guard around him. She doubted she was a popular figure in the eyes of Voldemort's old followers.
Iris looked out of the window. It was getting dark now and the area they were in was pretty mountainous.
"We should probably get into our robes," said Iris, immediately pulling off Dudley's old jacket. Ron went red and looked away quickly, prompting Iris to laugh. No sooner were they in their robes when 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."
Iris' stomach lurched with a mixture of nerves and excitement. Ron looked very pale.
The train slowed down and came to a stop. All the students left their compartments and pushed their way out of the train doors onto a tiny platform. Iris had just registered how cold it was when a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and a familiar voice called, "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! All right there, Iris?"
Hagrid's big hairy face smiled down at her.
"C'mon, follow me – any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
He led the group of assembled first years down a steep and slippery path and round a bend, revealing the most beautiful sight Iris had ever seen. The path had opened out onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side was a vast castle with many towers and turrets. The lake reflected the starry sky above to create a picturesque view.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of small boats sitting by the shore. Harry and Ron sat in a boat with Neville and Hermione.
"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid. "Right then – FORWARD!"
All at once, the boats began gliding smoothly across the lake towards the castle. The cold air felt refreshing on Iris' face and she smiled widely. Soon, the boats all reached some kind of underground harbour, where the students all climbed out and stretched their limbs.
Hagrid moved through, checking each of the boats. In one of them, he found a toad, which he returned to a grateful Neville. He then led the students up a passageway, onto some damp grass, then up some stone steps to a huge oak front door.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"
Hagrid raised his massive fist and knocked three times on the castle door.