After what felt like an hour and a half of pleading the night before, Uncle Vernon brought me to Kings Cross station on September 1. Honestly, I don't know why he put up such a fight; he would be rid of me for the whole year, and truthfully, you'd think that thought would make him giddy. However, he didn't relent until I told him my platform number, which should have been my first sign.

My second sign should have been when we arrived at Kings Cross, and Uncle Vernon excitedly loaded my things onto a trolley, wheeling them into the station for me. That is until we got to platforms 9 and 10, where he stopped dead in his tracks with a nasty grin, "Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine – platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

I blinked stupidly in response. He was right. Of course, there was a big plastic number 9 and a big plastic number 10, but nothing in between them.

"Have a good term!" He grinned crookedly, leaving me stranded in the middle of the station. After a while of running around like a chicken with its head cut off, asking questions that no one seemed to be able to answer, I sank onto a plastic train bench and groaned loudly.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, I heard it, "Packed with muggles, of course–" My head shot up to see a short, plump, redheaded woman with a gaggle of boys walking behind her, all with red hair. "What's the platform number?"

"Nine and Three-quarters," the only girl, seemingly the youngest of the group, piped up. "Can't I go, mum?"

"You aren't old enough, Ginny."

"I only want to see it." The girl pouted, "I'll say I snuck aboard; the worst they can do is send me home!"

"The answer is no, Ginny; now be quiet." The woman turned to the oldest of the boys. "All right, Percy, you go first." The boy marched, important, towards the barrier between platforms Nine and Ten, and I watched closely, hoping that all my problems would be solved. However, just as he reached the barrier, a large crowd swarmed in front of him, and he was gone.

I hopped up from my seat, getting closer to them so that I could see them better, but not quite close enough that they would notice me. "Fred, you next."

"I'm not Fred; I'm George." A pair of identical twins approached the barrier now. "You've only been calling yourself our mother for twenty years; can't you tell by now I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Just joking, mum, I am Fred." The twins now made their way towards the barrier, and a moment later, just like the first brother, they had gone.

I didn't seem to have any other choice; I had to ask. I pushed my trolly in their direction. "Excuse me-"

The woman looked at me, slightly alarmed. "Hello, dear. Is this your first time at Hogwarts? Ron is new, too." She motioned to the tall, gangly boy standing next to her.

I nodded awkwardly, "the thing is, I don't-"

"Know how to get on the platform." The woman smiled, and I nodded. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. It's best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on now."

I must admit, I didn't think it would work. However, I did as I was told. I ran, briefing myself to crash with my eyes shut tight.

The crash never came. I opened my eyes to be greeted by a scarlet steam engine with a sign on it that read "Hogwarts Express" and a wrought-iron archway where the ticket box once stood that read "Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."

I let out a sigh of relief as I made my way towards the train, weaving through the crowd. There was an older boy with dreadlocks who was surrounded by a small crowd as whatever was in the box he was holding poked out a long, hairy leg.

Another boy, dressed in a sweater vest with a toad sitting atop his messy hair, seemed to be getting told off by a rather formidable grandmother. The moment she turned away, he pulled a beanie over his head, completely obstructing the toad from view.

I attempted to load my trunk onto the train; however, lifting it to the steps from the trolly proved to be more difficult than I had anticipated.

"Want a hand?" I looked up to see one of the redheaded twins looming over me.

"Yes, please." I stammered, moving out of the way as he called the other twin over. They heaved my trunk onto the train. They then walked with me to the baggage car so that I knew where it was.

There were a load of other students in the baggage car with us, and I watched as the twins heaved my trunk onto the top of two others that had already been piled there when we arrived; my fringe must've fallen out of my face because one of them was now gaping at me.

"What's that?" he exclaimed suddenly. My face reddened, and I attempted to flatten my hair back down, keeping myself busy watching the other students in the compartment.

A tall girl with highlighter yellow hair, which she wore in spiky buns on either side of her head, sat atop a trunk chatting with the boy with dreadlocks who I had seen outside of the train. There was a girl with short black hair who looked like she had stepped out of the latest "Punk Rock" magazine, and I made a mental note of her; she seemed like bad news.

The other twin, who was smiling slyly, fixed his gaze on a pair of boys closer to the front of the carriage. One had short, curly blue hair, and the other had long, wavy black hair. They almost felt familiar somehow.

The twin who had been watching them held his gaze with them until they left the compartment before turning back to me, which is when he, too, noticed my scar. "Blimey– Are you?"

"He is." The first twin said, then paused, "Aren't you?"

"Aren't I what?"

"Harry Potter." The twins said in unison.

"Oh, him… I mean… yeah… I am."

The twins gaped at me with their mouths open for a moment before they heard their mum calling for them, and they wandered off.

I sighed, wandering off to find a compartment. I found an empty one close to the back of the train. I sighed, sitting next to the window, looking out to watch the remainder of the people on the platform.

I could see the two boys with blue and black hair from the baggage car. A girl with bright lilac hair was hugging them both tightly around the neck while a rather shabbily dressed man and a fully cloaked figure stood behind them.

I soon spotted the redheaded family again, standing relatively close by. "Ron, you've got something on your nose." Their mother was fussing over the youngest of the boys.

"Mummm, get off!"

"Awee, has ickle Ronnie got something on his nosie?" The twins grinned in unison.

"Shove off."

"Where's Percy?"

"Can't stay long, Mum," he said. "I'm upfront, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves –"

"Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?" Said one of the twins with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something; we had no idea." The other twin rolled his eyes with great exaggeration.

"And you two – this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one

more owl telling me you've – you've blown up a toilet or –"

"I'm almost offended! We've NEVER blown up a toilet."

"Great idea, though; thanks, Mum."

Their mother looked exasperated. A few seconds later, she turned towards another of the train cars, shouting, "Ginerva Weasley, both feet on the ground!"

"I just want to go look, Mum!"

"You can look next year when you are on your way there!"

"And then next year, if I end up attending a different school, you'll have robbed me of the opportunity!"

"Do you plan on attending a different school?"

"Well… no…"

"Precisely."

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls." The first twin piped up.

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!" The other chimed in.

After the girl had hugged all of her brothers, they were among the last people to board the train before it left the platform. I watched all the people left on the platform waving off the train as they disappeared.

"Is anyone sitting there?" I looked up, and one of the redheaded boys, the youngest, was standing in the doorway. I shook my head, no, and he sat down across from me. "Ron Weasley," he stuck out his hand. I knew this already, of course, but I didn't let that go.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Was the first thing to come out of his mouth when he sat down.

I hesitated for a moment before nodding and pushing my fringe out of my face so that he could see the scar that cascaded across my forehead.

"Wow," He stammered, "can you remember-"

"No."

"Oh… Sorry."

"Well… I s'pose I remember… A lot of green light…" I was almost entirely sure that he knew more about the incident than I did myself.

"Wicked." He grinned. "I heard you went to live with Muggles. What's that like?"

"Horrible." I paused for a moment. "My aunt and uncle are wretched, and my cousin is a bully… are all of your family wizards?"

"I think Mum has a cousin who's an accountant, but we don't see him often… other than that, yeah, I think so." Ron smiled wide, and I thought to myself, he must be part of one of the old wizarding families I had heard so much about.

"I wish I had three wizard brothers…" I thought aloud to myself.

"Five." My head shot back in Ron's direction. "Well, if we want to be technical… two… but there are five of us; Bill and Charlie have already left Hogwarts, though. Bill was head boy; Charlie was the captain of Quidditch. Now Percy is a prefect, and everyone thinks Fred and George are hilarious… I've uh… got a lot to live up to."

"That's not so bad, though? Is it?" I watched him curiously.

"Well… no… but you never get anything new with five older brothers either… I've got Bill's old Robes, Charlie's old wand… even my rat once belonged to Percy…" Ron had pulled a fat grey rat out of his pocket, "but Percy has Hermes now and didn't want Scabbers anymore… so he's mine now, I s'pose."

"That's not so bad… I didn't even know about magic until Hagrid came to get me… and until he told me, I knew nothing about my parents or Voldemort or-"

Ron gasped rather loudly.

"What?"

"You said his name!" Ron's voice sounded mortified; however, his face betrayed the fact that he was actually quite impressed, "I thought you, of all people-"

"I just never knew you shouldn't… I'm not trying to be brave or anything… I've got loads to learn… I bet I'm the worst in the year."

"You won't… loads of wizards and witches come from muggle families. You'll learn."

I smiled weakly, turning my attention to the window. We had already left London, and I watched as the rolling fields passed by. We mostly remained quiet; clearly, both of us were unsure what to say to the other. That is until there was a clattering in the corridor and a squat, smiling witch answered the door. "Anything off the trolley dears?"

I hadn't had breakfast, so I leapt to my feet very quickly. Ron's face reddened, "My mum packed sandwiches."

I followed the witch out into the corridor to find a cart of some of the strangest sweets I had ever seen: Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things. I silently felt myself wanting to try all of it, and then a realisation dawned in my head that I could, so I got some of everything.

Ron gaped as I brought everything back into the compartment, "hungry, are you?"

"Starving… I haven't had breakfast."

Ron had taken out a clingfilm bundle of sandwiches and unwrapped them neatly in his lap. He sighed deeply, pulling one apart and frowning, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef…"

"I'll Swap you for one of these!" I grinned, holding out one of the pasties. Ron went red again.

"You don't want this, it's all dry…" His blush deepened, "she hasn't got much time," he added, "with five of us…."

"Go on, have a pasty… they're not bad."

Ron's sandwiches sat abandoned for the rest of the train ride.

"What are these?" The package read 'chocolate frogs,' and it was shaking like something alive was inside, but they couldn't be real frogs, could they?

"It's just chocolate with some crispies in it. They use a spell to animate them, but they only really have one good jump in them." Ron grinned, "Check the card! I'm missing Agrippa."

"What-"

"Oh… you wouldn't know, would you? Chocolate frogs have cards inside to collect with famous witches and wizards on them. They're kind of like the Desert Storm cards that muggles collect."

I smiled, carefully unwrapping the chocolate frog box and taking the card out. The man on it wore half-moon glasses, a long crooked nose, flowing silver hair, a beard, and a moustache. "So that's Dumbledore."

"Don't tell me you haven't heard of Dumbledore!"

"No… him I've heard of…" I flipped over the card and started to read:

Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945 or 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 tenpin bowling.

There was a timid knock at the compartment, and the sweater-vested boy with the beanie from the platform poked his head inside. "Sorry to interrupt," he stammered, "H-Have you seen a toad? He's… well, he's gotten away from me."

He looked panic-stricken.

Ron and I shook our heads no, and he groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I've lost him; he'll get stepped on by the time I find him!"

"He'll turn up!" I tried to sound reassuring.

"Right…" The boy sounded miserable. "Well, if you see him, he likes beetle eyes or caterpillars if you have any!"

The boy left, sliding the compartment door closed behind him.

"Don't know why he's so bothered… if I'd brought a

toad, I'd lose it as quickly as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." Ron was now watching the rat asleep on his lap. "He might have died, and you wouldn't know the difference; I tried to turn him yellow yesterday… at least then he'd look cool."

Ron pulled an old battered wand out of his pocket, pointing it at the rat, and starting to recite, "Sunshi-"

The door to the compartment slid open again. The toadless boy was back, and this time, he had a girl with him."Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."

She sounded like the type of girl who would remind the teacher we were supposed to have a quiz.

"We've already told him we haven't." Ron rolled his eyes.

"Told you." The toadless boy, who I now knew was called Neville, muttered under his breath; however, the girl seemed to either not hear him or elect to ignore it.

The girl's eyes widened when she noticed Ron's wand. "Are you doing magic? Let us see then!"

Ron's ears went pink, and he continued to recite, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow."

"I don't think that's a real spell." The girl giggled. "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?"

Ron and I exchanged horrified looks.

"Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter."

We both muttered coldly as if we wished for nothing more than this girl to leave.

"Are you really?" Hermione gaped, "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."

"Am I?"

"Gosh, didn't you know?"

"No."

"… Anyway, I expect we'll be there soon; you two better get changed; we'd better go back to looking for Neville's toad."

And with that, they left.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she isn't." Ron rolled his eyes with disgust.

"What houses are your brothers in?"

"Gryffindor, s'pose I will be too…. Mum and Dad were, too." Ron suddenly looked gloomy.

I thought quickly, trying to change the subject, "What do your brothers do now that they've left Hogwarts?"

It was a genuine question; I had no idea what a wizard did after leaving school.

"Um… Charlie is in Romania, he's a magizoologist, and he's studying dragons and their social habits… Bill is in Africa; he's a cursebreaker for Gringotts… Oh! Have you heard about Gringotts?! It's all over the daily prophet!"

"No..?" I stared at him blankly, "What happened?"

"Someone tried to rob a high-security vault."

"Really? What happened to them?"

Ron grinned as if this was the question he had been waiting for me to ask. "Nothing. That's why it's such a big deal. My dad said it must've been a powerful dark wizard to get past Gringotts, but they didn't take anything. Course, everyone's now losing their heads, claiming you-know-who is behind it."

The name "you-know-who" was now making my stomach churn every time I heard it. Of course, I figured that was the desired effect.

The compartment door slid open again, causing both Ron and I to jump.

"We've been over this; we haven't seen the damn-" Ron started but stopped immediately when he realised it wasn't Hermione and Neville back again.

"It's you then," said the blonde boy from Madame Malkins. However, instead of the corpse-like girl he had been with in the shoppe, he was flanked by two huge, muscular gargoyle-looking boys who stood behind him like bodyguards. "Everyone all down the train is saying that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So, is it true?"

I simply nodded, hoping that the boy would leave. If my memory serves me correctly, this boy was not someone I wanted to have a casual conversation with.

"This is Crabbe, and that's Goyle." The boy said with a smirk as he motioned to the boys behind him, who flexed menacingly. "My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and if I dare say, it is a name you will quickly become acquainted with."

Ron laughed but quickly tried to disguise it as a cough. However, it didn't work, and the boy promptly turned towards him. "Think my name's funny, do you? 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."

Ron's face went white, and he quickly sat back in his seat, not daring to say another word. The boy turned back to face me, "You'll soon find out, Potter, some wizarding families are much better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort."

With that, the three boys turned and left the compartment.

"Don't listen to them," Ron muttered. "Dad says all the Malfoys think they're gods amongst men."

"I believe it," I muttered back, "I met him and his kooky cousin when I went to get my things in Diagon Alley."

"There's TWO of them?!"

"I don't think she goes here. The uniform she was being fitted for was blue."