-CHAPTER TWO-

-NEW FRIENDS-

There was the noise of footsteps coming toward them.

James turned at the sharp voice, startled out of his uneasy thoughts. Standing in the doorway was a girl with raven-black hair chopped bluntly at her shoulders. Large, round glasses magnified her eyes, which were narrowed in impatient expectation. She held a battered-looking rucksack in one hand, and her other hand gripped the door frame as though she might slam it shut if they refused her.

"Um, sure," James said, trying to keep the uncertainty out of his tone. "Come on in. There's plenty of room."

The girl muttered a brusque "Thanks" and stepped inside. She practically threw her rucksack onto the seat beside her, then dropped into the spot next to it. Rodney gave her a small, nervous smile in greeting, but the girl just pulled at the sleeve of her robe and glanced away, apparently more interested in the corridor than either of them.

James caught Rodney's eye and shrugged as if to say, well, here goes…. But the echo of that strange image—white skull, red eyes—still hovered in his thoughts, making him feel unsettled. He forced himself to focus on the newcomers around him, hoping conversation might distract him from whatever ominous vision he'd glimpsed outside.

"My name is Penelope Nightdusk," she said. "And yours?"

James cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his seat. "I'm James," he offered and threw a look at Rodney, who had still been bright red and almost lost for words. "Well, introduce yourself, Rodney."

"I'm Rodney Havisham."

She glanced at James, seeing his thick and black messy hair and glasses. "Potter, right? Harry's son."

James didn't smile and swallowed hard. Penelope had just looked at him and knew who he was. He watched as she went back to ignoring themselves and pulling a crumpled magazine out of her rucksack. She read the page, giggling behind the magazine.

Trying to spark a conversation with her, Rodney spoke up. "Are you a first-year too, Penelope?"

She glanced up from the magazine, her eyes big behind the thick lenses of her glasses. "Obviously," she said in a drone of a tone before turning back to the page she'd been reading.

James tried not to react too visibly. If she wanted to be quiet and not talk, why did she pick a compartment with two other people in it?

Rodney held out a slightly squashed Chocolate Frog, his voice soft but breathless. "Do you want a Chocolate Frog? he asked Penelope, mustering a polite smile.

Penelope's gaze flicked over to him, and she smiled softly but now wider enough to show teeth. She glanced at the offering in his hand, melted chocolate smudging the foil wrapper.

"No," she said tensely, then looked back to her magazine. For a moment, it seemed like that was the end of it.

Rodney let out a breath he hadn't realised that he'd been holding. He tucked the Chocolate Frog away and cast an uncertain glance at James.

James looked at Penelope with her head bowed, asking, "Are you excited about Hogwarts?" he asked Penelope, keeping his tone as friendly as possible.

Penelope looked up again, pushing a strand of raven hair behind her ear. She hesitated, then shrugged. "Sure," she said, the word coming out bitter and clipped. "Not that it matters.

"What do you mean?" James asked, and Rodney fiddled with the Chocolate Frog that had been holding.

After an awkward moment, Penelope let out a small sigh and snapped her magazine shut. "It's just... my dad's a Ministry official," she muttered, not quite meeting their eyes. "He wants me to make a good impression and get good grades." Her voice sharpened at the quote. "So, I'm under a bit of pressure, all right?"

James nodded and understood where she was coming. "I understand."

Her eyes were wide with a look to say, "Thank you," and Penelope knew that he would understand it best.

Rodney smiled at her. "Well, we're happy to share our compartment. Even if you don't want a Chocolate Frog," he joked gently, wriggling a completely new one.

Penelope's lips twitched, just for a short fraction, but enough to suggest there was a friendly side beneath her cool outside. She slid the magazine back into her bag. "Thanks," she said, almost too quietly to hear, then turned to the window, watching as the countryside blurred past under the swinging lantern above them.

The three of them sat, not friends but not total strangers either, and the steady clack of the train's wheels carried them closer and closer to the castle that would be their home for seven years.

"I read about your dad when I was growing up. Couldn't believe it. He managed to produce a full Patronus before anyone of his year could, some not even doing so until two years later. He trained them, didn't he? In Dumbledore's Army?"

James felt his stomach twist slightly. He knew that, eventually, most conversations would circle back to his father and what he did.

"Yeah," he said, trying not to sound uncomfortable. "Dad could do a lot of advanced magic when he was young. He had to."

Penelope pushed her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, looking at James intently. "I mean, a full Patronus at thirteen? Not many people can manage one at any age, let alone a third year."

Rodney, who'd been listening with round-eyed fascination, chimed in softly. "I can't even imagine conjuring one. You'd need so much focus and skill..."

"Not to mention a strong, happy memory," Penelope quickly interrupted him. "Have you ever done it?"

James shook his head. "A sort of wisp," he told them. "Not a full Patronus. Not yet, anyway."

Penelope's expression flickered from curiosity to something that looked almost like respect. "I see." For a moment, it seemed like she might ask him more, but then she dropped her gaze and turned to fidget with a zip on her rucksack.

Rodney spoke. "I'm sure we'll learn in Defence Against the Dark Arts, right?" he said. "I mean, eventually."

James nodded. "Yeah. We'll be learning some basic spells in the first couple of years and then more advanced ones later. I know a few, like Expelliarmus and Stupfey."

"Wow," Rodney said.

"That's your favourite spell, wasn't it?" Penelope asked.

Penelope reached into her bag and withdrew a slender wand, its polished surface catching the moonlight streaming through the compartment window. James and Rodney both fell silent, watching curiously as she turned the wand between her fingers. It looked on the shorter side, perhaps nine or ten inches and was made of dark wood with a swirl pattern near the handle.

"What are you doing?" Rodney asked, his gaze flicking between Penelope's face and the wand in her grasp. She shrugged, tapping the tip of her wand lightly against her palm.

"Nothing," Penelope said.

"You already know how a spell or two?" he asked. It wasn't unheard of for some wizarding families to teach their children basics at home, but from Penelope's earlier stance, he hadn't expected her to be the type to show off.

Rodney hadn't even got his wand out or spoke about what magic he could.

Penelope scoffed, though not unkindly. "A few. My dad drilled me on a standard jinx and counter jinxes." She paused, rolling her eyes as if remembering the first time doing any magic. "He thinks if I'm ahead, I'll be able to get house points and good grades."

James glanced at Rodney, recalling how nerve-racking it could be to live under someone else's exceptions, especially a parent's. "Well," James offered, "maybe you can help us out if we get stuck in class."

Penelope sniffed, but the edges of her mouth quirked like she was trying not to smile. "Might consider it," she said airily, then tucked her wand back into her robes.

Rodney breathed out a soft sigh as if relieved she wasn't about to cast a jinx in the cramped compartment. He played with another Chocolate Frog wrapper. "Guess we'll find out soon enough what all of us are good at," he said, casting Penelope a friendly grin. "We'll be learning loads together."

The train still rattled down the track; James saw a Muggle train flashing past them.

"Muggles can't see the Hogwarts Express, can they?" Rodney asked.

"No," Penelope said, not even in her usual tone but a softer tone. "It's invisible. Those Muggles will see nothing but an empty track."

The terrible screech of the trolley's wheels against the train floor made all three heads turn toward the doorway. There, the kindly witch, with her cheerful smile, pushed the cart, stacked high with biscuits, cakes, sweets, fizzy pop, sausage rolls, pumpkin pies, and treats of every kind imaginable. The smell of warm pastries and sugary sweets wafted into the compartment.

Rodney's stomach gave a loud grumble that sounded like an engine.

James smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Hungry, Rodney?"

Rodney flushed slightly but grinned. "Starving. I didn't do much before we left."

The trolley witch paused just outside their door, peeking in. "Anything from the trolley dears?"

Rodney sat up straight away. "Yes, please," he said, fumbling in his pockets. He pulled out a handful of coins, mostly Sickles and Knuts, and began eyeing every item on the cart.

James stood up and pulled a Galleon from his pocket. "Here, I'll grab a few things for all of us," he offered. He turned to Penelope. "Want anything?"

Penelope stopped what she was doing, looked up at James, shrugged her shoulder, and went back to looking out of the window. "I'm fine," she said shortly.

"Suit yourself," James said, not pressing her anymore. He stepped into the corridor, scanning the trolley. "We'll take some pumpkin pasties and a couple of chocolate frogs," he trailed off, grabbing a stack of cauldron cakes, a few sausage rolls, and a couple of packs of chocolate frogs. "That should do."

Rodney could not take his eyes off the sweet as James threw a Cauldron Cake and Pumpkin pasties over to him. James laughed and unwrapped a Cauldron Cake for himself, sinking back into his seat. He popped a piece into his mouth, savouring the rich and gooey centre. "Told you Hogwarts has the best food."

Penelope threw a look at the sweets.

"You sure don't want anything?" he asked, holding out a Pumpkin Pasty.

Penelope nodded after a long moment of staring, then reached out and took it. "Fine," she muttered, her tone trying to stay aloof. But as she bit into the flaky crust, her expression softened.

The compartment grew warm with the smells of sweets and laughter as the three of them dug into the pile of cakes and sweets. For the first time since the train had pulled away from the station, James had felt the knot of nerves in his chest loosen completely.

As James and Rodney tucked into their treats, Penelope reached into her robes and pulled out a slightly squashed wrapped in wax paper. She unwrapped it carefully, showing a simple cheese and Branston pickle filling.

Rodney paused halfway through his bite, swallowing. "You've brought your own?" he asked.

Penelope nodded, taking a small bite of her sandwich. "Why not?" she said highly. "My stepmum said the trolley's overpriced."

"You sure you don't want anything? It's not going to cost you a thing."

She relaxed slightly, wiping the Branston pickle from her mouth. "Can I try one?" she asked her tone still swift but less guarded.

James grinned. "Be my guest. But a fair warning, some of them are disgusting. I got a vomit flavour once."

Rodney groaned and explained his worst taste. "I got feet for my first taste. You never forget your first feet taste."

Penelope plucked a bean from the bag, examining it closely before popping it into her mouth. Her expression shifted at once from curiosity to horror as the flavour hit her. "Ugh!" she exclaimed. "It's sardine. Disgusting."

James laughed and dug a bean out of the red and white striped box. He braced himself and swallowed the bean. His eyes widened at the taste of it when he bit into it. It was like someone had spat a thick glob of spit into his mouth, and he threw up down his t-shirt. Penelope had a look of concern on her face. She didn't do anything but point a wand at his chest. She uttered the spell, "Scourgify," and for it would clean his shirt and chin. James was covered from head to toe in nothing but soapy bubbles; even his glasses were covered. "Damn it. It worked on the ground at home. I'll get us a towel."

She left the compartment and came back with a towel. James wiped the bubbles from his face.

Rodney grabbed a sausage roll from the pile on the seat between them and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth with a wide grin. He nearly swallowed the thing sausage roll.

"You're supposed to taste it, not inhale," James said, laughing.

"That," he said, pointing to the now empty wrapper, "was the best thing I've ever eaten."

James rolled his eyes but couldn't help but laugh. "You've said that about everything you've tried so far."

Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "It's all true," he said, wiping the pastry flakes from his mouth.

Even Penelope cracked a smile, though she tried to hide it by taking another bite of her sandwich. "If you keep eating like that," she remarked dryly, "you're going to roll into the Great Hall instead of walking."

Rodney laughed, clearly unbothered. "It'll be worth it," he said with a grin, reaching for another pastry."

"We have dinner at the Great Hall to have as well," she hissed.

"What houses do you think you'll be in?" he asked.

Rodney paused through the bite of his second sausage roll, and his expression was suddenly thoughtful. "Oh, uh... I don't know," he admitted, swallowing quickly. "My mum was in Hufflepuff, and my dad was a Ravenclaw. They keep joking. I'll end up in Slytherin just to scare everyone."

James laughed. "That wouldn't be too bad. Dad says not all Slytherins are bad. Just a few bad apples in the past, you know? Even the Head of Slytherin fought against Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts?"

"Horace Slughorn," Penelope said without looking up from the note that she was scribbling.

"Yeah, him," James said.

"I read about him on a Chocolate Card."

Rodney nodded, though he still looked a little unsure. "I'd like to be in Hufflepuff, I think," he said after a moment. "It sounds warm and friendly."

James turned his gaze to Penelope, who was sitting with her arms crossed, watching the countryside flash by. He saw a few farms and rivers zoom by and be left in the distance. "What about you?" he asked. "Any guesses?"

She turned her head slightly, her raven-black hair swinging as she studied James with her piercing gaze. "My dad was a Ravenclaw," she said simply. "He says it's the house for the clever and ambitious. Makes sense for me."

James raised an eyebrow. "Ambitious? I thought that was more of a Slytherin thing."

People narrowed their eyes. "Ambition isn't just about being cunning or manipulative," she said, her tone annoyed. "It's about wanting to succeed and doing what it takes to get there."

James nodded, smiling. "Fair enough," he said. "What about your mum? What house was she in?"

Penelope's expression flickered, but she quickly masked it. "She didn't go to Hogwarts," she said shortly, turning her gaze back to the window. "She's from Durmstrang."

"Isn't that in Russia?" Rodney asked. He had heard about other schools than Hogwarts."

"Somewhere like that," Penelope said.

"Do you think the Hat allows us to choose if we don't like the idea?"

"My dad said the Hat wanted to put him in Slytherin."

Rodney and Penelope froze, and their expressions shifted to shock.

"Your dad?" Rodney asked and leaned forward. "Harry Potter almost ended up in Slytherin?"

James nodded, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, he told me once. The Hat thought he had the ambition and determination for it. Said he could be there."

Rodney's jaw dropped. "But he's so brave and courageous. All of the stories about him and your mum."

"He told the Hat to put him in Gryffindor."

"Wow!" Rodney asked. "That's amazing."

The train continued moving ahead. Penelope's gasp startled James and Rodney, and they both turned to her, confused.

"What's wrong?" Rodney asked, his brow furrowed.

"We need to put our robes on," Penelope said sharply, glancing at the clock mounted in the corner of the compartment. "We're probably getting close to Hogwarts. I'm not showing up there looking like this!" she gestured at her slightly rumpled clothes under her cloak."

James looked down at himself, realising that she was probably right; they had been so caught up in chatting and eating that he'd lost track of time. He was still in his Muggle clothes from that morning. "Oh, yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head. "Good point."

Penelope stood abruptly, clutching her bag. "I'm going to find another compartment to change in," she said quickly and felt herself going warm. "I can't exactly undress in front of two boys, can I?"

Rodney's cheek turned pink, and he quickly looked down at his half-eaten sausage roll. "Right, of course," he muttered and avoided her gaze.

James grinned, trying to ease the awkwardness. "Fair enough, Penelope. We'll stay here and do the same once you're gone.

She nodded, adjusting her glasses. "Good." She paused at the doorway, looking back at them. "Don't wait too long, or you'll be scrambling when we pull in."

With that, she slid the door open and vanished into the corridor, the swish of her cloak trailing behind her. James let out a low whistle once she was gone. "She's strange," he said, smirking at Rodney.

Rodney looked up and was still a bit flustered. "She's not wrong, though. We should probably get ready?" He glanced at his trunk overhead. "Think we have the time?"

James nodded. "Let's just get it done. Don't want to be the only ones showing up in our Muggle clothes." He stood and pulled down his trunk, already imagining the first glimpse of Hogwarts and what was going to happen.

Rodney leaned forward, "Bit cold, isn't she? She went quiet when talking about her mother. Durmstrang student, you know those people are so into the Dark Arts. Grindelwald was one."

"She's just nervous," James tried to say but Rodney shut him down.

"Still, she nearly bit my head off when I offered her a Chocolate Frog."

James laughed, taking his jacket off and shirt and slipping his arms into his robes. "She did take one, though. That is something."

Rodney did not know what to think, taking his shoes off. "It's just got a wall up, and it looks like she's hurting."

James was in his robes, the Hogwarts Crest gleaming brightly under the light. "I think she's under a lot of pressure, and there's clearly something going on with her mum. She did mention that she's living with her stepmum as well."

Rodney nodded. "Still, she could loosen up a bit."

"Give her time. Hogwarts has a way of softening people up unless she's in Slytherin, of course."

Rodney's eyes widened. "Do you think she's a Slytherin?"

"Could be," James answered. "If the Hat allows you to choose, she might choose to be in Ravenclaw."

"I hope she ends up in the same house as us," he said. "Even if she's a bit stubborn, she's nice..."

"Nice?" James said.

"Not in that way," Rodney quickly dismissed James and waved his hand. "Stop looking at me like that."

James couldn't resist. He had spent most of his life teasing Albus and Lilly. With a stretched grin, he leaned closer to Rodney, his voice taking on a teasing tone. "Does little Rodney have a crush on Penelope?" he said, mockingly drawing out the words and speaking in a tone that a mother would do to a baby."

Rodney froze when stretching, so his hands were up in the air, and his face instantly turned red as a ripe tomato. "What? No!" he stammered, his voice pitching slightly higher than usual. "Of course not. Don't be so ridiculous."

James glanced out at the window; the train was still pulling itself so fast across the tracks. The face at the window was almost forgotten about, and he had made a new friend. He wasn't sure that Penelope was a friend, but she had still been in the compartment and that was something.