Harry was meditating the whole remainder before September 1st – and by that, meaning not just losing track of time. Harry was fully-aware that he's trying to keep his mind blank. On the last day of August, he thought he'd better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so he went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room.

"Er — Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening.

"Er — I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to — to go to Hogwarts."

Uncle Vernon grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?"

Grunt. That meant yes.

"Thank you."

He was about to go back upstairs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.

"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"

Unlike last time, Harry had an answer.

"Well, I'm pretty sure the wizards in India use them… just not for collective ride and technically, it's illegal in Britain."

That got the full attention of his uncle and aunt who turned their heads to him instead of the telly.

"T-There's a school in India? T-There's more?" asked Uncle Vernon.

"You don't really think that wizards only exist in Britain, do you? I mean, I'm not sure if there is a school in India but from what I've read from my textbooks," Harry lied – there's nothing about carpets in the textbooks he currently had but he learned this in Flying class – before he continued, "magic carpets are preferred by people in the East more than brooms."

The two of them looked like they swallowed a bitter pill.

"Alright. Alright. Where is this school, anyway?"

"Scotland," said Harry.

"That far?" his aunt's eyes bulged.

Harry shrugged, "That's why it's more convenient to take a train than to fly using brooms. Besides, I don't even have a broom yet. First years aren't allowed."

"Barking," said Uncle Vernon, "howling mad. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" Harry asked, trying to keep things friendly.

"Taking Dudley to the hospital," growled Uncle Vernon. "Got to make sure nothing's wrong with him before he goes to Smeltings."

Harry didn't say a word anymore and marched up the stairs. Before he could continue, he could hear his aunt and uncle talking for a bit.

"Can you believe it? Taking trains?" mused Uncle Vernon.

"Well, he's going to Platform Nine and Three Quarters to take his train," said Aunt Petunia quietly. And wasn't that a surprise to Harry, his aunt knew? But why did she pretend she didn't last time?

Uncle Vernon spluttered. "Platform Nine and Three Quarters? Pet, you are pulling my leg! There's no such thing as –"

He got cut off by Aunt Petunia. "Whether you like to believe it or not, Vernon, it exists. I've been there. Once. And never again."

Silence settled and when it was apparent no conversation would strike up anymore, Harry proceeded to his room.

The Dursleys had dropped Harry off at King's Cross Station without much fanfare, his aunt even looked at him strangely as she bid Harry to "have a good term". Weird. His aunt wasn't that kind, was she still affected by his faux dream?

Harry didn't let those thoughts stay in his mind and waited for a familiar bunch of redheads to pass by him. He wasn't disappointed to hear Molly Weasley's loud chatter.

"— packed with Muggles, of course —"

Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them. They stopped and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying but Harry couldn't register. There was Percy, looking so young; there was George whose ear hadn't been cut off; Ginny was lively as she should have been; Molly whose lines in her forehead weren't as much as she had in the war and healthily plump; Ron wasn't marred and corrupted by the locket; and Fred – breathing and alive.

"Fred, you next," Molly said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said Fred. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. Harry's breath hitched and almost choked in his laughter remembering how goofy the Weasleys were. The aftermath of the war had taken too much toll that jokes and laughter were scarce.

"Excuse me," Harry said to Molly, like the first time he was here.

"Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too."

She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons.

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is — the thing is, I don't know how to —"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry nodded.

"Not to worry," she said. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

Harry passed through the barrier with knowing ease, no nervousness like the last time, but nervous enough to convince people he was new. This all felt surreal to Harry, like a grand homecoming as King's Cross faded from his view replaced by the smoke billowing from the red and black Hogwarts Express.

He spotted students who were none the wiser that after a couple of years, this jovial atmosphere will be replaced by fear and unsureness. But that's why Harry was here, wasn't he? To prevent that. Harry pushed his cart and spotted a younger Neville Longbottom and his grandmother, Augusta. He noticed Lee Jordan and the spider he brought. Like the last time, he was helped by Fred and George. He was too caught up in his emotions to reply to them offering help, merely nodded, and barely whispering thanks.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you — ?"

"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" said Harry.

"Harry Potter," chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am. Thanks again, by the way," Harry said properly.

"Your mother's looking for you," he added before turning away to find his – their – his, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna's – compartment.

Just like Harry said, Molly was looking for Fred and George, and the twins threw each other baffled looks – because why would Harry know that – before answering their mother. Harry found the compartment and tuned out the Weasleys' conversation about him. He noted though that he needed Percy to lighten up and not get so rigid on rules.

Harry thought about the people he would meet. He was bothered by Victor's statement about him not knowing everyone in his year, which to be fair really isn't necessary, but he was still bothered. That can be quickly remedied, though. Harry wanted a peaceful year without the school antagonism, so he will be pushing for true Inter-House Unity, and yes, including the Snakes.

The door of the compartment slid open and Ron Weasley came in.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out. Amazing how Ron really didn't know much about being discreet or subtlety.

Harry snorted, "Unfortunately. With the scar and everything."

Ron was confused by this response.

"Isn't really nice when you're constantly reminded that you're famous because you survived the night your mother and father died," said Harry wryly.

The reaction was immediate and Ron looked horrified and flabbergasted. "I am so sorry, mate! I don't really mean it like that, I just thought Fred and George was messing around with me—"

Harry chuckled, "It's alright. I understand! So, are your family all wizards?"

"Er — yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

Harry froze. He didn't catch this information before.

"Why?" prodded Harry, quite anxious with hearing Ron's answer.

"Er—for one, he was a Squib and decided to live with Muggles. Not that we have a problem with Squibs, mind. But he loathed his disability as he calls it. He kind of, I dunno, projected his anger towards the magic users in the family and was rude to Mom and Dad."

Harry felt a surge of relief wash over him at this explanation.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron, now curious about Harry himself. "What are they like?"

"Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron, looking gloomy and Harry knew exactly why. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to."

Ron listed off his brother's achievements and then, "You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep. Harry startled, forgetting that Ron brought up Scabbers – Pettigrew – during their train ride. His reflexes were faster though because he had pulled out his wand and pointed it at the rat. Ron looked terrified as he froze in his seat.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," apologized Harry, tucking his wand back in, "I guess you could say I'm terrified of rats."

That excuse was not bad. However, Ron looked like a kicked puppy, Harry suspected that Ron was feeling inadequate and guilty he made a potential friend scared.

"I'm not holding it against you, I'm just really terrified of rats. But what was that about your brothers again?" asked Harry, attempting to steer back the conversation to what it was before. His eyes flashing momentarily at Scabbers, who was unfazed and still asleep.

After Ron discussed his brothers again, Harry looked at him in the eye. "Hey, just be yourself. You don't have to be pressured about your brothers, just do you, and you'll do great. I'm sure your family will be proud of you, no matter what."

Ron was speechless and turned pink for a moment, his eyes not meeting Harry as he thanked him. Harry knew Ron was pressured by his expectations not of his family but of himself, he just didn't realize it. They went on talking about insignificant things like Scabbers' background, and Harry assuring Ron that there's nothing wrong with not affording an owl which seemed to cheer Ron up.

The trolley witch came around past twelve and Harry bought food for them to share. Harry picked a Chocolate Frog and promptly ate it, not making the same mistake as before, and pocketed Dumbledore's card.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and Neville came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry. "Or we could try Summoning him. I've read that Summoning is only for inanimate objects but we can try."

Ron looked amazed that Harry read ahead but Neville was looking at him in awe and hope. Harry brandished his wand and said, "Accio Neville's toad!"

For a moment, it was as if the toad wouldn't show and Harry prepared to make an apology before a green lump zoomed past them and onto Harry, which he caught easily. Well, at least my Seeker abilities are still working, Harry thought. Harry handed Trevor to Neville and the boy was tearful as he muttered his thanks.

As Neville made his way to go, Harry called after him. "Hey, why don't you stay and help us finish these? That way, you can't lose your toad again."

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose—"

"Quite sure," said Harry, grinning. Neville was a person he admired because of his development throughout the years but if Harry could help in bringing Neville's personality quicker, then that would be a good thing.

"Don't know why you're so bothered – er," said Ron, forgetting that the boy hasn't introduced himself yet.

"Oh, I'm N-Neville. Neville Longbottom," answered Neville.

"Don't know why you're so bothered, Neville. 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."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron 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 battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end. "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway —"

Harry winced as he saw the state of Charlie Weasley's wand. Something has to be done with that wand, Harry thought, Neville also had his father's wand, those can't be good.

Neville piped up, "I also have a second-hand wand. I can't complain since it was my father's. Gran said something about continuing legacy."

He deflated at that and Harry had the urge to sigh in frustration at adults placing high expectations at children. Ron sent Neville a look of understanding before raising his wand to attempt the joke spell the twins told him about.

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. Hermione. Harry's breath hitched at the sight of her, he could almost hug her in delight. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost—oh! There you are Neville, I'm glad you found your toad," she said in her usual bossy sort of voice. She looked around the compartment and saw Ron's raised wand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er — all right. Sunshine daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep. Harry snorted, followed by Neville, and then laughter broke out amongst them, Ron included, though he was brightly red.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said Hermione.

"Seems like your brothers played a joke on you, Ron," quipped Harry.

Ron grumbled as they all went down from their laughter, "I'll kill them."

"Well, I'm sure that that was a joke," said Hermione, "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 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?"

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione and Neville both exclaimed. Hermione continued, "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."

"Really," said Harry, his interest piqued.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione, launching into a story-telling fashion.

A while later Hermione changed the subject.

"Do either of you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…"

"Well, no matter what house it is, I'm sure we'll do great," said Harry, already planting seeds to achieve Inter-House Unity.

"You're right, Harry," said Hermione, beaming, but Ron was dubious.

"But Harry, what about Slytherin? It's the house You-Know-Who was in!" blurted Ron.

Harry shrugged, "What about it? Just because Voldemort's in Slytherin doesn't mean they're all bad. That's just unfair."

Neville and Ron gaped, while Hermione nodded in agreement.

"You said his name," Ron pointed out, flabbergasted.

Harry smiled wryly, "I can call him a lot of names like Moldyshorts or Snake-Face, he's dead."

That was a lie but it's better if these people realize they have nothing to fear in a name.

"You're amazing, Harry," Neville said in such reverence.

Harry shook his head, "Hermione, say Voldemort's name."

"Voldemort."

"See, easy? Why don't you try Neville?"

"V-Vol—V-Voldemort," gasped Neville.

"Good job, Neville!" said Harry, as he turned towards Ron. Hermione and Neville also followed suit. Ron looked like death had come for him earlier than expected but he was saved by their compartment door being opened for the third time.

Ron felt relief wash over him as he turned to his savior, only to see it was a Malfoy flanked by two large boys. He blanched.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes. Honestly, why is it such a big deal," muttered Harry. Ron and Hermione shot him looks of understanding, while Neville just stared at Harry.

Draco's eyebrows furrowed.

"Why is it not a big deal? You've defeated the Dark Lord when you were a baby!" exclaimed Draco, as Harry rolled his eyes.

"Would've been great if I remembered it. I was only a year old," shot Harry, "and my parents died, you know. That's not a great way to be remembered."

All of them who were at the compartment flinched, except Crabbe and Goyle. Harry didn't know what to expect.

"Er—yes, I suppose that can be annoying," said Draco, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. Silence stretched for a moment, before Harry took control.

"So, do the trespassers in our compartment have names?" asked Harry, an undertone of disappointment in his voice that he was sure Draco would take notice. Hermione, too, looked expectantly.

"Oh—uh—where are my manners? These two are Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," said Draco, mimicking a suave manner.

Ron snorted but before Draco can shot back a scathing remark that would turn this into a sour arrangement, Harry said, "Only surnames? I'd like to know people as they are, not by their family names. I mean, there would be a lot of Crabbes and Goyles, so how do I differentiate you from one?"

"I mean, if you prefer to be called by your surnames, that's fine too," added Harry as he remembered how Tonks like to be called.

"Er—" Draco looked helplessly to Crabbe and Goyle, while the two of them also looked at Draco for directions. Draco gave them a look before they cleared their throats.

"Gregory."

"Vincent."

"Well, then. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Draco, Gregory, and Vincent. These are my friends, this one is Hermione," he gestured to Hermione and the girl gave them a kind smile, "the one over there with a toad is Neville," Neville blushed and gave them a timid wave, "and that one's –"

"A Weasley," said Draco, not even bothering to hide his disgust. "Red hair, freckles—"

Harry cut him off before he could continue his obviously deprecating remark, "You know each other, then! That's great! I'm sure we'll get by just fine in school."

Draco was disgruntled at being lumped in with Ron and Ron sent incredulous looks to Harry.

"Well, aren't you pleased of making acquaintance with my friends, Draco?" asked Harry sweetly to Draco, a warning on his eyes to not make any comment or insult.

Having lost control of the conversation's direction, Draco said, "Er – I mean – yes. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Come along, Cr—Vince, Greg."

The three of them made way to go out before Draco turned back to say, "Potter—" Harry raised his eyebrows "—Harry. You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Harry sighed, "Draco, if I cut your hand, what color do you reckon is your blood?"

Draco, confused, answered, "Red?"

"And if I cut Ron's or Hermione's or Greg's?"

"Still red," said Draco, still confused.

"Exactly. That means, we are no different from each other. The wrong sort of people is those who think only because it's what they're told. Following blindly, never thinking for one's self. You're not that kind of person, are you, Draco? Thank you for your offer, but unless you mull this over, I don't think we can be friends just yet."

Harry smiled kindly at Draco; his face was contorted, as if he swallowed a bitter pill. Harry knew he was confusing Draco by putting arguments that shift his worldview, and it's incredibly risky knowing how temperamental kids are during this age, but it's something he had to do, to try and steer Draco away from the dangerous beliefs that he was raised with.

Taking the opportunity to thank everyone who followed and favorited this story and to everyone who left reviews.

To Hip, I guess you'll just have to wait and see :)

To Peggy, thanks for your kind words and no, I'm not discouraged at all!

To Mystikjl, thank you!

To abhaykara, yes that's true. It's just Harry finding out that maybe meditation could help him.