Unhappy and at a loss, Harry stood at platform nine and ten, looking for platform nine and three-quarters. He had already tried to speak to a guard but they had been unable to help him and eventually left in a huff.

Harry was just thinking about trying all sorts of things on the ticket barrier between the platforms – perhaps it worked in a similar way to the Diagon Alley wall – when a family walked past him and Harry heard the words, '– packed with nasty Muggles, of course –'

Harry swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushibg a trunk like Harry's in front of him – and they had an owl.

Heart hammering, Harry pushed his trolley after them. They stopped and so did he, just near enouth to hear what they were saying.

'Now, what's the platform number?' said the boys' mother.

'Nine and three-quarters,' grumbled a boy who was about Harry's age.

'Well done, Ron. All right, Percy, you go first.'

The eldest of the brothers marched towards platforms nine and ten. Harry watched him closely and tried not to blink so as not to miss anything. But just as the boy reached the barrier, a group of tourists rushed past, blocking Harry's view, and when they were gone again, Percy had disappeared.

'Fred, you next,' the plump woman said.

'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 off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done, because a second later, he had gone – but how had he done it?

After the next of the brothers had set off, Harry took heart and asked, 'Excuse me …'

'Yes?' She turned to Harry and eyed him suspiciously. When she saw the owl on his luggage trolley, she seemed to relax visibly. Harry had the impression she was worried that a Muggle had got wind of her sons vanishing into thin air. 'First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too.'

She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet and a long nose.

'Yes,' said Harry. 'The thing is, I don't know how to –'

'How to get on the platform?' she helped warily, Harry nodded.

'Hm, didn't your parents explain that to you?' she asked, and Harry had the feeling that she didn't trust him.

'Erm, no …' Harry replied meekly, hoping he wouldn't have to explain his tricky situation.

The woman looked at him closely for a moment, then turned around and explained, '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.'

'Er – okay,' said Harry.

He turned his luggage trolley and marched towards the barrier. Because Harry was getting more and more nervous, he preferred to run a little, and just as he thought he was going to crash into it at any moment, he was suddenly on 'the other side'. Right next to him was a scarlet steam engine and the platform was packed with people.

Harry had made it.

Cats in every imaginable colour meandered between the people on the platform and owls called to each other in a bad mood. The first carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats.

Harry set off to look for a free seat, passing a round-faced boy on the way. 'Gran, I've lost my toad again!'

'Oh, Neville,' sighed his grandmother.

Harry pushed his way through the crowd until he found an empty train compartment. As he tried to heave his terribly heavy trunk onto the train, it fell painfully on his foot twice.

'Hey, Harry!'

He looked up and saw Draco walking towards him, dragging his trunk behind him. He was wearing a white lumberjack shirt, beige checked, the sleeves rolled up and a light grey T-shirt underneath. His washed-out jeans had holes at the knees, obviously a favourite item of clothing. In his free hand he was carrying a rather large transport box; Harry could recognise a black Norwegian Forest cat in it, looking at him dozily.

'Draco! What's up?' Harry greeted, glad to see a familiar face.

Draco reached the train compartment. 'Pretty heavy, huh?' he commented with a grin, nodding his chin towards the trunk.

Harry sighed, put his hands behind his back and stretched. 'You're saying it …'

'I'll help you.'

'Thanks.'

'No biggie, you'll have to help me with mine then,' Draco quipped, grabbing the back of the trunk and Harry the front. Together, they finally managed to stow the luggage in the compartment.

Harry groaned and wiped his forehead, brushing his unruly hair out of his eyes. He noticed how Draco's eyes lingered on his scar.

'What was your surname again …?' Draco asked thoughtfully.

'Potter,' Harry replied tonelessly. He could literally see it starting to work in his new friend's head. 'And now your trunk,' he said and hurried to Draco's luggage.

There he realised that the two of them were no longer alone. A man who looked like an older version of Draco was standing behind the trunk and was lifting it. Harry was sure that this must be Draco's father.

'Hello,' he greeted the man friendly.

He looked up. 'Oh, hello, you must be Harry! My son told me about you.'

Draco immediately appeared next to Harry, who was still standing in the compartment doorway. To Harry's astonishment, his new friend had turned even paler, which Harry would hardly have thought possible.

Draco turned to him, 'You're … Harry Potter!'

His father accidentally dropped the trunk on his foot and cursed under his breath.

Harry smiled sheepishly at father and son and felt a blush rise to his face. 'Yeah, I am … Erm … let's get your trunk on the train, shall we?'

Draco looked at Harry open-mouthed for a moment, then snapped out of his thoughts and nodded eagerly. Draco's father rubbed his foot and grumbled that 'the Muggle way' was too cumbersome after all, drew his wand and levitated the luggage into the train, where he let it stow itself away with a flick of his wand. Harry watched eagerly, he couldn't get enough of watching other people do magic.

Draco's father returned to the platform, his son had opened the window of the train.

'All right, my boy. Write to me when you have arrived,' his father said, smiling broadly as a blonde woman approached them, just as pale as Draco and his father.

'Draco, my dear! I miss you already!' she said, blinking away unshed tears.

Draco's cheeks turned a light pink colour. 'Mum! Don't!' he hissed, embarrassed.

'Harry, it was an honour to meet you! Lucius Malfoy, and this is my wife, Narcissa,' Draco's father introduced himself and the blonde woman next to him, who gave Harry a gentle smile.

A shrill whistle sounded, the last stragglers hastily jumped onto the train and the doors were closed. The Hogwarts Express began to move, Lucius and Narcissa waved after Draco and Harry until the train turned off, and they were no longer in sight.

Harry felt a great leap of excitement. He didn't know what he was going to – but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.

Draco stretched out his legs, stroked his thighs with his hands, looked at Harry curiously, then hastily glanced out of the window again.

'You alright?' Harry asked with a smile. He wished Draco would stop being so nervous. He caught himself thinking that he would have preferred it if Draco hadn't found out he was Harry Potter.

'W-why didn't you tell me at Malkin's?' Draco finally asked, fiddling nervously with a loose thread on his shirt.

Harry shrugged. 'I grew up with my relatives and only recently learnt that there's a Wizarding World, that I can do magic, that I'm famous … I just forget, honestly. I grew up as a nobody.'

'Oh, wow! For real?' Draco looked at Harry with wide, grey eyes in amazement. 'But why didn't your relatives tell you?'

'They never wanted me to go to Hogwarts. They wanted me to go to a Muggle school,' Harry said bitterly.

Draco's cheeks turned red again, but this time with anger. 'WHAT?! You're Harry Potter! Where did they get the stupid idea of sending you to a Muggle school? Er … nothing against Muggle schools, y'know what I mean …'

Harry nodded and couldn't help grinning. 'It's all good. I don't know, my relatives are weird … Anyway, I don't really want to talk about them that much, if that's okay.'

Draco waved it off. 'Yeah, it's better that way, they get me worked up just listening to them, and I think Muggles are really great otherwise, but they …'

'Are all your family wizards?' asked Harry, who found Draco just as interesting as Draco found him.

'As far as I know, yes. At least my family tree doesn't say anything about Muggles and Muggle-borns, all magical through and through.'

'So you must know loads of magic already.'

Draco made a funny face that Harry couldn't place, but then he smiled good-humouredly again. 'Only have your Aunt'n Uncle?'

'And a cousin, Dudley. He's terrible,' Harry explained.

Draco thought about it. 'Hmm, bit like having a brother, innit?'

Harry shrugged. 'Yeah, about the same. We're almost the same age. But like I said, he's awful. He disliked me for as long as I can remember, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always favoured him over me, of course.'

'Shame, an' really mean of them. Wanted siblings, but unfortunately it's not possible,' Draco said, looking a little disappointed. 'But at Hogwarts, we live in houses, so maybe it's a bit like having brothers'n sisters.'

'So, just you and your parents?'

'Yep, but my friends often came to visit.'

'They are all wizards?' Harry asked curiously.

Draco nodded. 'Yep, but Parks and I always tried to make friends with the Muggle kids in the village. Was a bit tricky, but also super fun.' He smiled dreamily and reminisced about happy childhood memories that Harry would love to see.

They could all do magic, they all knew the Wizarding World – and here Harry sat, clueless and insecure. 'You know …' he began meekly, 'I bet I'm the worst in the class.'

Draco returned from his thoughts, frowned and shook his head. 'Nah, certainly not. As I said, there're also Muggle-borns. Their parents can't do magic and don't know anything about magic. They only find out about Hogwarts when they get the letter. You're not actually allowed to do magic at home as a kid, so there's hardly anyone ahead of you. We're all learning magic from scratch together,' Draco explained and smiled encouragingly at Harry.

'Actually?' Harry asked curiously, Draco's smile faded a little.

'Did I say 'actually'? I meant you're certainly not allowed to do magic. Yep, that's how it is.'

Harry eyed Draco suspiciously, who was looking out of the window with great interest, as if there was something particularly exciting to see, but all that passed them were fields of sheep and Harry doubted that Draco was a stranger to sheep.

'Draco …'

'Okay, well, maybe I did a bit of magic at home already,' he hummed and hawed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. 'Wizard parents like to give their kids a bit of a head start when it comes to simple magic, an' I do fine with my mum's wand. With my dad's … didn't go so well … Never thought the sofa in the living room would burn so well …'

Harry snorts. 'You set the sofa on fire?'

Draco's cheeks glowed. 'Not on purpose! Was supposed to fix something!'

'Yeah, well, that went well.'

'Ma didn't think it was that bad, she never liked the sofa anyway.'

The two of them giggled about it for a while, and Draco eventually told Harry what simple spells he could already master – more or less well. Harry had to promise not to tell anyone that Draco had been practising at home.

Afterwards, they were silent for a while, Draco had his nose in his potions book ('That's the subject I'm most interested in, I want to be good at it!') and Harry gazed out of the window, lost in thought.

At half past twelve, loud clattering could be heard in the corridor of the train, shortly afterwards the compartment door was pulled open, and a middle-aged woman looked at the two of them with a smile.

'Anything off the trolley, dears?'

Harry, who hadn't had any breakfast this morning, immediately jumped to his feet, Draco following him leisurely. For the first time, Harry had more than enough money to buy as many chocolate bars as he could carry, but the lady didn't sell chocolate bars. She had Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans, Droobel's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and many other sweets Harry had never seen before.

'Guess this's all new to you, innit? At least the Muggles in the village always thought our stuff was very odd,' Draco told him, picking out Chocolate Frogs, Cauldron Cakes and Pepper Imps.

Harry nodded, he wanted to try everything and bought a bit of all the sweets. Back in the compartment, he dropped everything on an empty seat.

'Your relatives gave you money?' Draco wondered, dropping into the seat opposite Harry.

Harry shook his head and grabbed a pumpkin pasty. 'No, they'd never. My parents left me their money.'

'Makes sense.'

While Harry munched on his Pumpkin Pasty, Draco ate his Cauldron Cake. He hadn't bought too much and for the first time, Harry had something to share – and someone to share it with.

'Hey, if you want any of my stuff, you're welcome to it,' Harry finally said.

Draco glanced curiously at Harry's mountain of sweets. 'Yeah, maybe. Can give you the money later.'

Harry waved it off. 'I don't want any, it's fine.'

'Oh? Ain't no problem for me, my family's wealthy.'

Harry thought about it. What did 'wealthy' mean to wizards? Then his eyes fell on the Chocolate Frogs and he had another question: 'What are these? I mean, they're not really frogs, are they?' Harry wouldn't have been surprised though, he was expecting anything.

'Nah,' said Draco, 'but check what card is inside. I'm still missing a few.'

'What?'

'I forgot … You can't know that – Chocolate Frogs contain cards to collect – famous witches and wizards. I've already got about 500, but still missing a few.'

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and took out the card. It showed a man wearing half-moon glasses, a long crooked nose and flowing silver hair. Beneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

'So this is Dumbledore!' said Harry.

'In all his glory. Did Hagrid tell yeh about him?'

'A bit, said he was brilliant and the best Headmaster Hogwarts ever had.' Harry turned over his card and read:

Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greates wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat oft he dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel.

Professor Dumbledore enjoyes chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Harry turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

'He's gone!'

'Yes, that happens. People in magical pictures move. I've seen that this isn't the case with Muggle pictures,' Draco said, shoving a Pepper Imp in his mouth and his ears fuming like crazy. 'Have ter say, Muggle pictures are pretty neat, too. Especially when people make funny faces an' it's on the pic forever!' He giggled merrily and took the next imp.

Harry continued to watch eagerly to see when Dumbledore would reappear. 'Yes, but moving pictures – that's much cooler, I think.'

They continued to unwrap Chocolate Frogs together and Harry looked at the many small portraits with enthusiasm while Draco devoured the frogs. A short time later, Harry had a sizeable collection of cards, all of which Draco already had – unfortunately there weren't any new ones for him.

When Harry finally managed to tear himself away from the pictures, his eyes fell on the bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and opened it.

'Every flavour, Harry. An' they mean it.' Draco grinned slyly.

'Really?' Harry asked, taking a closer look at one of the beans.

'Yes, really.'

'Even disgusting things?'

'Oh yes, also that. Try one.' Draco nodded at him encouragingly.

Harry's bean was green, he carefully bit off a piece and grimaced. 'Sprouts!'

Draco laughed. 'Could've been worse, trust me.'

The beans were a good way to pass the time; they had tasty flavours like coconut or strawberry, but also some nasty ones like grass or sardine. Harry even dared to nibble on a strange grey bean, which Draco refused to touch, wrinkling his nose.

The passing landscape changed, the neat fields were replaced by wild nature. Now Harry could see forests, winding rivers and dark green hills.

Someone knocked on the door, and the round-faced boy Harry had seen on the platform came in. He looked tearful.

'Sorry,' he said, 'but have you seen my toad?'

As the two shook their heads, he moaned, 'I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!'

'He'll turn up,' said Harry.

''Yes,' said the boy miserably. 'Well, if you see him …'

He left.

'Who buys a toad these days … Cats are fine, got one instead of an owl. His name's Trjegul,' Draco pointed to where they had stowed his cat, 'an' he's a cuddly one, have him since he was born six years ago.'

All that could be seen of Trjegul, however, was fluffy black fur; he had curled up and turned his backside towards them.

'Hagrid gave me a snowy owl for my birthday, Hedwig.'

'Really cool present, I say. Yeah, owls are super useful 'cause of the letters an' stuff, but I know Hogwarts provides owls for the students, so I'm not missing out on much.'

Harry sat back, full and stroking his stomach, when it occurred to him that he might like to practise one of Draco's spells. 'What was the one called again? Reparo?'

Draco nodded, standing on the seat and nudging Trjegul, but he only grumbled idly.

Harry pulled his glasses off his nose and was about to wave his wand when the door opened again and Draco almost fell off his seat.

The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing the school uniform.

'Have you seen a toad?' she asked.

Her voice had a bossy tone, she had bushy hair and big buck teeth. She looked at Draco, who was cursing and holding onto the top of the carrier, and frowned. 'What are you doing?'

'Sports,' Draco grumbled, slumping back in his seat. 'And besides, we already told him we didn't see his toad.'

But the girl wasn't even listening to him any more and had focussed her attention on Harry's wand. 'So you do magic? Well, let's see it, then.'

She sat down opposite him, Harry would have liked to sink into his seat. The spell hadn't worked the last time he'd tried it and being judged now was certainly not conducive to his success.

'Okay, I'll give it a try …' He pointed his wand at his glasses. 'R-Reparo …'

At least a few sparks were emitted. Harry sheepishly put the taped glasses back on.

'Well, that didn't go too well for you, did it? I've tried a few simpl 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 Hermion Grangr, by the way, who are you?'

She said all that very fast.

Harry glanced at Draco and was relieved to see him making a dismayed face, obviously not having learnt the set books off by heart either.

'I'm Draco Malfoy,' he introduced himself formally and held out his hand to Hermione, who nodded and shook it enthusiastically.

'Harry Potter,' said Harry.

'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 oft he Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events oft he Twentieth Century.'

'Am I?' said Harry, feeling dazed.

'Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me,' said Hermione. '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 one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad …'

'Ravenclaw's better, if you ask me,' Draco said calmly. 'Gryffindor … Well, brave feels like the only attribute … Wisdom sounds more like you, don't you think?'

Since Harry had no idea about the houses, he couldn't say anything on the subject and hoped that Hermione wouldn't pester him about which house he would like to be in.

Hermione thought about Draco's words. 'You really think so?'

'My family has been magical for centuries, who should know that better than me,' Draco said imperiously, head held high. 'You're very clever, I can tell.'

Hermione's cheeks coloured slightly pink. 'Well, I'll think about it … But for now, we have to keep looking for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon.' With these words, her face still a little pink, she left the compartment with Neville.

'I want to be in Gryffindor, y'know, Harry. And I'd rather not have her around, if possible,' Draco muttered to Harry out of the corner of his mouth and winked at him.

'It's a bit mean to talk her into another house, don't you think?' said Harry. He had to admit, Hermione seemed a bit annoying, but talking her out of Gryffindor for that reason would never have crossed his mind.

Draco waved it off. 'Ravenclaw is a good house. If I'd wanted to be mean, I'd've told her to go for Slytherin.'

'Because Voldemort was a Slytherin?' mused Harry aloud. Draco drew in a sharp breath.

'What?'

'You said his name!' he whispered vigorously, looking at Harry with wide eyes.

'Oh, I'm not trying to be brave or anything just because I said his name,' Harry hastened to say. 'I just didn't realise you shouldn't do that. That's what I meant, that I still have so much to learn …'

'Yes, but if anyone can say his name, it's probably you. After all, you beat him, or something like that,' Draco said, looking up because Trjegul was turning round.

'I don't know, I don't remember much, just a lot of green light.'

Draco decided thoughtfully, 'Better that way, I'd say.'

Harry nodded. 'I think so, too … Tell me, what do your parents actually do? Professionally, I mean.' He wondered what witches and wizards did when they finished school.

'Oh, my dad doesn't work, why should he,' Draco said, grinning wryly.

'Doesn't he have to earn money?' Harry wondered.

'Nah, told you, my family's wealthy. They've amassed a fortune over the centuries. But my dad has been passionately collecting and tinkering with all sorts of Muggle stuff for years. Our house is full of the weirdest things, half of them doing things they crtainly shouldn't …'

'Oh, okay. And your mum?'

'She works because she wants to. As a Cursebreaker, freelance, but sometimes also for Gringotts. That reminds me, you heard about it? They say someone tried to break into Gringotts!'

Harry stared at him. 'Really? What happened to them?'

'Nothing, that's why it's such a big deal. They haven't been caught. My dad said it must've been a powerful dark wizard or witch, but nothin' was stolen, that's what's odd. It really freaks everyone out when something like that happens, they're afraid You-Know-Who might be behind it.'

Harry thought about this news. He could feel a sense of dread beginning to set in when it came to You-Know-Who. He supposed it was part of entering the Wizarding World, but it had been more comfortable just being able to say 'Voldemort' without worrying.

'We should pick you a Quidditch team, guess you don't have one yet, do yeh?' asked Draco, trying to change the subject.

'No, sorry. Hagrid just told me that Quidditch is your sport and … er, has four balls?' Harry tried to remember, smiling sheepishly. His head was gradually overflowing with new information.

'Like I said, best game ever, but I guess you know football an' can tell me if it's a great sport.'

Harry shrugged. 'It's an okayish sport. I wasn't very good at it and I didn't really watch it.'

'Oh, too bad. There goes my dad's hope,' Draco said with a sigh.

'Why?'

'Because he was hoping he could grill you about it.'

'Oh, well … I can explain it to him, but that's about it,' Harry said apologetically. 'But I'm really interested in Quidditch. Can you give me more details?'

'Sure!' said Draco enthusiastically and he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions oft he seven players, describing famous games he'd seen with his parents and friends and which broomstick is the fastest. He was just taking Harry through the finest points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy or Hermione Granger this time.

Four boys came in and Harry recognised them immediately. They were the sons of the plump woman he had followed through the barrier. The boy, who was Harry's age and called Ron, looked at Harry with much more interest than he had at King's Cross.

'Heard Harry Potter's in this compartment. Must be you then, because that bloke,' Ron nodded to Draco, 'certainly isn't.'

'Yes,' Harry said. He glanced at the twins, who were standing to the right and left of Ron and had something spiteful about them, and behind them the eldest, Percy, who was busy polishing a badge on his chest.

'My brothers, y'know,' said Ron. 'Wanted to come along, o' course, get an overview. We're the Weasleys, the name's Ron, in case you don't remember.'

Draco snorted softly. Ron gave him a scathing look. 'Having a problem with us? I know exactly who you are! You look just like your Muggle-loving father. My dad told me all about you. Why don't you snap your wands in half and disappear into the Muggle world if you think it's so great?'

The twins cackled, Percy smiled thinly.

Ron turned to Harry before Draco could answer. 'You'll soon see that some wizarding families are best avoided. You don't want to make friends with the wrong sort, do you? You want to learn about the Wizarding World? You're much better off with us,' Ron nodded to his brothers, 'than with that inbred twit and his daft parents.'

Ron held his large hand out to him, smiling confidently, but Harry didn't take it.

'I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,' Harry said coolly.

Ron clicked his tongue in annoyance and withdrew his hand. 'I'd be careful if I were you, Potter,' he growled. 'Muggles are dangerous, we need to stay away from them and not,' he cast a scathing glare at Draco, 'chase after them and think they're our best friends!'

'Muggles aren't dangerous,' came from Harry and Draco at the same time, both having stood up.

'You're kids, you don't know better,' suddenly came from further back. Percy had stopped polishing his badge and was looking sympathetically at Harry and Draco.

'Leave!' Harry said, sounding much braver than he actually felt. Draco and he didn't stand a chance against four boys.

'We're too late, spent too much time with Malfoy,' Fred (or was it George?) muttered to George (or was it Fred?).

'Come now, boys. I'm a Prefect, I can't have any trouble now, not at the start of my career,' Percy decided imperiously, pushing his brothers out of the compartment.

'Percy, you're a Prefect?' said one of the twins in mock astonishment. 'You didn't mention that! Or did you?'

'Maybe once …'

'Or twice …'

'The whole summer …'

Ron chuckled and followed his brothers outside.

'Cut it out! You fools! Get back to your compartment! And I've got to patrol, don't you dare cause any trouble!' hissed Percy, shooing all three of them down the corridor.

A short time later, Hermione Granger stuck her head through the compartment door again. 'What was going on? A bunch of redheads were on their way to see you.'

Draco slumped back in his seat, his pale cheeks flushed with anger. 'Y'know these gits?' he asked Harry, his voice quivering.

Harry told him how he had met the Weasleys at King's Cross.

'My dad told me 'bout them,' Draco grumbled darkly. 'They don't like Muggles, no, they downright hate them, and if they had their way, children from Muggle families wouldn't be allowed at Hogwarts.' He turned to Hermione. 'What's up, Mione?'

'You'd better hurry up and put your school uniforms on, I've just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!'

'No, just talking,' Draco said truthfully. 'I know Harry and I look gorgeous, but could you leave us alone so we can change?'

Hermione's cheeks turned a little pink. 'You're so conceited! All right, I only came in here because people are acting all childish outside, running up and down the corridors,' Hermione said with a sniff.

'Ravenclaw students are never childish, I know that for a fact,' Draco remarked with a broad grin.

'If you say so. Your muggle clothes are a mess, your trousers have holes in them, hasn't anyone told you that?'

As she walked away, Draco called after her, 'That's on purpose! The Muggles in the village said my trousers need holes!' When she had gone and the door had slammed shut, he turned to Harry. 'They really did. They weren't winding me up, were they?' Draco asked him, his ears colouring slightly pink.

'Some muggles like it, yeah. It's supposed to look daring.'

'And, er …' Draco scratched the back of his neck, sheepishly. 'What d'you think?'

Harry shrugged. 'I only had Dudley's discarded clothes. Holes were the least of my problems. You look fine to me.'

'Oh, good.' Draco changed with relief and Harry did the same.

It was getting dark outside. Harry could see mountains and forests under a deep-purple sky. The train slowed noticeably.

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.'

Harry's stomach cramped with nervousness and Draco, again to Harry's astonishment, had gone a lot paler once more. They stuffed their bags with the last of their sweets and joined the other students milling about in the corridor.

The train came to a halt with a rumble. The students pushed their way out, Harry and Draco were shoved outside and found themselves on a small, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold air.

Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and Harry heard a familiar voice: 'Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! All right there, Harry?'

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

'C'mon, follow me – any more firs'-years? Mind yer steps, now! Firs'-years follow me!'

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

'Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec', Hagrid called over his shoulder, 'jus' around this bend here.'

There was a loud 'Oooooh!'

The narrow path had opened suddenly on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

'No more'n four to a boat!' Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of boats. Harry and Draco shared one with Hermione and Neville.

'Everyone in?' shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, 'Right then – FORWARD!'

And the fleet of boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead.

Eventually, they reached the cliff of the mountain and Hagrid yelled, 'Heads down!'

They all bent their heads and little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried through a dark tunnel until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out.

'Oy, you there! Is this your toad?' said Hagrid, who was checking the boats.

'Trevor!' cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands.

Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock, coming out at last on the grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a fleet of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

'Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?'

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times.

Notes:

I gave Draco some slang for a reason. He lives in Wiltshire, and if my research is correct, that's a rural area. Draco picked up the slang when he spent time with the Muggle kids in the village :) It's the West Country, so his slang is similar to Hagrid's. I tried my best, don't kill me for messing it up D:

Trjegul: is the name of one of Freya's two cats. As Trjegul is a Norwegian Forest Cat, I thought it would be a good name for him.

I also borrowed many descriptions for the end of the chapter from the OG book. I've mostly shortened them, I hope you don't mind. I'm not a native speaker and saw no point in slaughtering them :D