Harry Potter had connived to get to Kings Station just at the same time as last time - he'd tossed his bags in the boot early, and then burnt the bacon just enough that Dudley had wanted a new batch, but Uncle Vernon was happy to eat his share. "Good bacon, boy," Uncle Vernon cried, in an unreasonably good mood - no doubt because their unloved houseguest would cease bothering them for nearly a year.
Harry could sympathize, of course - he'd never wanted to be in the Dursleys' household, either.
Molly Weasley found him right outside the barrier, and gave him the same advice. He ran in, and was greeted by the ever-rowdy Twins, who were happy to help both him and Ron put their trunks on the train, before they capered off to find Jordan and his new tarantula. Harry caught Ron's shudder at even the mention of the big spider, this time. With some relief, they both sat down in an empty cabin.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron asked with his usual affability and lack of self-consciousness.
"Yeah, that's me," Harry said, trying to smile. It probably came off as strained - his first time on the train, it had been novel to be stared at, to be famous. Now, it brought back memories of the Creeveys - or of Malfoy selling fake-autographed pictures of Harry Potter; not to mention the shadow of Lockhart lurking in the background.
Harry had never wanted to be famous.
"Can I see your scar?" Ron said.
Harry's breath caught, and before he could swipe his locks to one side or the other, Ron's outstretched hand was holding them aloft. It felt really awkward.
Hermione bustled in, with Neville on her heels, "Has anyone seen a toad?" She was her normal bossy self - though Harry'd clear forgotten how grating eleven-year-old Hermione was.
"Nope," Harry responded, restraining a welcoming smile that would have seemed creepy to give to someone he'd just met.
And then Malfoy was at the door, casting a dismissive eye over the pile of candy wrappers in the middle of the floor. "Longbottom," he nodded to Neville. He looked at Harry Potter, almost intrigued - in a lazy Dudley sort of way, "Are you really Harry Potter."
"I am." Harry responded strongly. Malfoy understood strength, so that was what Harry would give him.
"You," Draco Malfoy said, his eyes fixed on Hermione, "I don't know you."
"I'd imagine not. I'm Muggleborn." Hermione said firmly.
"Oh," Draco Malfoy intoned, as if he'd been caught talking to shit clinging to the bottom of his sole.
"With that ginger head, and those handmedown robes, you must be a Weasley." Draco Malfoy sneered.
"Spoilt and -" Ron had barely started his tirade, when Neville discretely stepped on Ron's foot.
"Oops!" Neville said, blushing. "Gran always says I need to watch where I step."
"Next time," Harry said with a grin, "Find Malfoy's feet. He started it."
Hermione, of all people, let out a surprised guffaw at that.
"I'm Draco Malfoy," the boy in question said, holding out his hand, "I can help show you who your friends are."
"I can find my own friends, thanks," Harry Potter responded, smiling brightly at Draco Malfoy - if only to make the other boy uneasy.
[a/n: A few more people in there than the books had. Oh, well, I loved the dialogue. Reviews, please?
Harry's changes here aren't much - at least according to him. Snape'd have a fit, but he's always treated Potter like he's some sort of Gryffindor Dumbass.]
