3

Chapter 3

Harry scowled, looking around the crowded platform at Kings Cross. People jostled him, shoving him this way and that as they hurried around the station. Harry snarled to himself as he was knocked yet again, and quickly wheeled his over full trolley out of the main thoroughfare, and looked around again.

He'd been stuck in some out of the way hut with the rodent infested oaf for the past month, supposedly to keep him safe until it was time for Hogwarts. Hagrid had filled the time with talk of how the wizarding world worked, or at least a heavily biased version of it, and what a wonderful man the Headmaster was. There might have also been some ranting about Dark wizards and how Harry should be careful since he was famous and everyone wanted a piece of him.

Harry had been tearing his hair out by the end of the first day.

Now, however, he was at Kings Cross Station, preparing to get the train to Hogwarts. The only 'issue' was that Hagrid had dropped him off with a cheery smile and a wave, without telling him how to get onto the platform. Fortunately Harry was already aware of that little piece of information through his preparatory reading, but it irked him regardless. Overgrown fool.

Sighing, he looked around, eyes pausing briefly on Alex as he sat on a bench with a newspaper open in his hands. He'd known that his men wouldn't leave him unprotected at such a vulnerable time. He couldn't see Sergei, but he had no doubt that he was lurking as well.

Leaning against the wall, he continued his visual scan. Dumbledore clearly had some plan in mind, and Harry was waiting to see what it was. His money was on a plant of some sort, someone to continue feeding Harry the biased information that would lead him in the 'right' direction.

"It's the same year after year. Always packed with muggles, of course."

A stout woman with red hair bustled past, several equally red haired children in tow as she loudly drew attention to herself.

Bingo, Harry thought to himself, mentally handing himself ten pounds.

"Come on, Platform 9 3/4 this way! All right Percy, you first."

The woman played her part well, but Harry could see her eyes darting around periodically, lingering particularly on any scrappy looking young boys in the vicinity. Good thing he was dressed in proper clothing, then, even if he still wore the Old Harry glamour, otherwise she might have focused on him more than he was willing to tolerate just yet.

"Fred, you next," she said to one of the boys, obviously an identical twin given his doppelganger beside him.

"I'm not Fred, he is!" The boy cried indignantly.

The other twin shook his head sadly. "Honestly woman, and you call yourself our mother."

Harry made a mental note to see if the twins were worth recruiting. Their family was obviously supposed to get close to him, but twins who's own parents couldn't tell them apart were bound to be feeling a bit discontent. They might make worthwhile spies into Dumbledore's little schemes.

"Oh, sorry George," the woman said, glancing around again.

The boy grinned cheekily. "Just kidding, I am Fred!" He ran quickly at the wall, disappearing before his mother could swat him over the head, his laughing twin right on his heels.

The woman huffed, glancing around again and stalling by fiddling with the last boy's clothes.

Harry smirked, maintaining his position out of her direct line of sight.

"Now remember, Ron," the woman said quietly. "Harry is going to be on the train with you, and this will all be very new to him. You must be kind, and help him to learn his way around our world. Take him under your wing, and protect him from the people who would only want to use him for his fame. You understand?"

The boy nodded, his face red as his mother fixed his collar.

"Alright dear, through you go. You can find Harry on the train."

Harry watched as the woman and her daughter followed Ron through the barrier, and shook his head. Pathetic, really.

He straightened slightly as Sergei materialised next to him.

"I assume you caught that?" The Russian muttered.

Harry nodded silently, pretending to fiddle with his packages on the trolley next to him.

"Will you let him close?"

"For a little while," Harry decided. "I'm more interested in those twins."

Sergei smirked. "That was the Weasley family, easily identifiable by red hair, poor clothing, and too many children for them to comfortably support. Their father, Arthur, is a good man, but that wife of his is a right harpy. Rumour has it that she trapped him into marriage via love potion. Unconfirmed, but persistent enough to make people wary of dealing with her. She was a Prewitt by birth."

Harry nodded, remembering his lessons about the main families. "The Prewitts were formidable warriors, especially the twins Fabian and Gideon who were killed in the last war. The women in the family were known to be skilled potioneers, but graspingly ambitious. The Weasleys were well respected and well off, though not enough to classify as rich. Upper middle class. I can see why a Prewitt would want a Weasley, but not why a Weasley would want a Prewitt. Investigate the rumour, if it's true it could make for some interesting leverage."

Nodding, Sergei bumped his arm slightly with his elbow. "You'd best be going, you don't want to miss the train."

Releasing a heavy sigh, Harry took the handles of his trolley. "Alright. Keep an eye on everything for me, and make sure Shot has everything she needs for her projects. I want her kept as happy as possible for as long as she is providing results and new toys." He paused, half turning back. "Just, don't spoil her. And keep Connor out of the biscuit tin!" Decisively, he turned back and disappeared through the wall.

Sergei smirked, glancing at his partner as Alex walked over and stopped next to him. Rolling his eyes when he heard a sniffle, he handed Alex a tissue.

"Our boy is all grown up," the British man sniffed. "And we can't even see him onto the train ourselves!"

"Stop snivelling, Charleston. We have work to do." The Russian stalked off, face stern. And if a part of him agreed with Alex, well, he'd never tell.

The platform was even more crowded than the muggle side, though Harry was more interested in the fact that the Hogwarts express was a steam engine. He watched the billows of smoke rising from the chimney, and shook his head. So outdated.

Wrangling his trolley over to the baggage section, he patiently waited for the attendant to notice him, then 'helped' load Warthogs crate and his trunk. Once he was sure Warthog was settled safely, he climbed into the passenger sections, making his way through the train until he found an empty compartment. He was glad he'd had the foresight to sedate her for this trip, otherwise she'd be kicking up a right fuss at being trapped in a box for so long. The last thing he needed was her bitching nonstop in his head the for entire trip. She'd never quite gotten over her anxiousness about enclosed spaces, even after the bonding. Hardly surprising really, given how he'd found her.

Sitting, he rifled around in his satchel, pulling out a copy of Hogwarts: A History. He'd already read it of course, but he had a role to play. After a moment of thought, he also pulled out a small bag of chocolate biscuits that he'd felt Sergei slip into his bag while they talked. He grinned as he bit into one, recognising Connor's efforts in its lumpy shape and varying thickness. His boy had recently decided he wanted to learn how to cook after discovering that Harry could, and ever since had been feeding his efforts to anyone in close proximity. Fortunately the house elves supervised closely, and ensured that his creations were are least edible.

Hearing a knock on the compartment door, he pushed the baggie of cookies back into his satchel, unwilling to share them with a stranger. He grimaced, quickly licking his teeth clean and checking his face and lap for crumbs. He really should do something about his possessiveness about food; it was a dead giveaway about his past.

The person in the corridor slid open the door without waiting for an invitation, sticking his head in.

"Do you mind if I sit in here? Everywhere else is full." The youngest red headed boy from the station asked.

Harry thought for a moment, trying to remember his name. Oh yes, Ron.

"Sure," he said shyly, fiddling with the edge of his jacket.

Ron walked in, dropping onto the opposite seat with a thump.

"Thanks. I'm Ron by the way; Ron Weasley."

Harry nodded, smiling politely. "Harry Potter."

The dark haired boy watched as the red head stared at him, mouth agape. He fought down a Malfoy-esque sneer, and bit back the unflattering comments that wanted to burst from his lips. There would be time enough for that later, assuming the ginger monkey was even capable of understanding half the insults that were going to be flung his way.

"Do you have, you know," he glanced around and dropped his voice. "The scar?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, his face growing cold. "You mean the one from a murder attempt that robbed of me of my parents and everyone who was supposed to care for me? Yes." He kept the other boy pinned with his gaze for a moment longer, before shifting to look out the window.

Ron swallowed awkwardly. "Sorry," he offered. "It's just that you're a real celebrity, you know? I've never met someone famous before."

Harry scoffed. "I'm just a person, same as you. It's just that more people know my name. I'm not any different than the next bloke."

The hero worship grew visibly in Weasley's eyes. "Yeah, yeah, of course!"

They lapsed into silence as Harry pointedly went back to his book. The time passed slowly, Ron shifting and huffing in boredom after only a few minutes.

"Do you want to play a game?" He asked, pulling a deck of battered cards out of his pocket hopefully.

"I'm reading," Harry said, without looking up.

"Oh, come on," Weasley whined, wiggling the cards in a way that Harry supposed was intended to be enticing. "There's heaps of time to read later."

"Please, I really want to read," Harry muttered, thinking mutinously of his cookies and wishing the other boy would go away so he could eat another one.

"Oh, don't be boring! Just a few rounds, it'll be fun!"

Harry sighed quietly, recognising that he wouldn't be allowed to read uninterrupted. "Fine." He put his book aside, leaving it on the bench seat next to him. He waited while Ron dealt the cards and explained the rules - which Harry already knew thanks to Sergei and Alex's version of 'cultural studies' - and played a few hands of Exploding Snap.

When the door to the compartment slid open again, Harry nearly sobbed in relief. Finally, a distraction! He'd been contemplating the pros and cons of throwing one of Shots new liquid grenades just to get out of another round of this entirely too predictable game.

Draco stood in the doorway, flanked by two hulking boys that looked to have the combined intelligence of a roast chicken.

"Is it true? I heard Harry Potter was in here." The blond boy said, eyes flicking dismissively over Ron before settling on Harry.

"I'm Draco Malfoy." He offered his hand, which Harry shook firmly.

Ron snorted derisively, drawing the Malfoy heir's attention. He opened his mouth to snarl an insult, only to be reminded of their goal when the hand still holding his squeezed slightly. Sneering, he turned his attention back to Harry.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Draco." Harry said.

Draco frowned. "You were raised by muggles, weren't you?" The blond asked cautiously.

Harry nodded, releasing his hand and inviting the three newcomers into the compartment with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, why?"

"Then you might not know. In our world, you only address close friends or family by their first name. It's considered quite rude to just assume that level of familiarity, especially in our level of society."

Ron scoffed and folded his arms crossly, but otherwise stayed quiet. It was true after all.

"I see," Harry murmured. "Thank you for telling me. There's so much that I don't know yet; I've only known I was a wizard since my birthday a month ago."

Draco smiled, eyes glinting with humour. "I'd be happy to help you out. There's a lot to learn, and someone as influential as you doesn't want to go offending people and making friends with the wrong sort if you can avoid it. That could cost you in the future."

At this, the redhead couldn't contain himself anymore.

"You'd know all about being the wrong sort, wouldn't you, Malfoy! Everyone knows your family is as Dark as they come!"

Harry frowned thoughtfully, but sat back to watch the altercation play out.

Draco snarled, but restrained his anger when he caught sight of Harrys relaxed pose against the window. He couldn't embarrass his boss so early into the piece; he still had to prove himself. Settling back in the seat, he pasted a condescending smirk onto his face.

"You should be careful, Weasley. After all, actions have consequences. Are you prepared to deal with yours?"

Harry stifled a smile, the barest glimmer of amusement showing in his emerald eyes. He glanced over at the as yet unintroduced hulks, and saw a similar glimmer in their eyes behind their dull expressions. Interesting.

"Malfoy," Harry interrupted, intent on stemming the imminently violently flailing from Weasley. "You didn't introduce your friends?"

Malfoy frowned, glancing at the two silent boys. "I apologise. This is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle."

Nodding politely, Harry offered his hand to both boys, shaking firmly. "Harry Potter, nice to meet you." Unable to resist stirring the pot a little, he cocked his head innocently. "What House does everyone think they'll be in?"

"Gryffindor!" Ron announced proudly. "My whole family is. It's the best House; House of the Brave!"

Harry nodded politely and turned to the other boys.

"Slytherin," Draco smirked. "The House for the Cunning and Ambitious." Crabbe and Goyle nodded in agreement, maintaining their silence.

Ron sneered, but was prevented from starting another argument by the door sliding open again.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" A girl with bushy brunette hair asked. "A boy named Neville's lost one."

Harry shook his head. "No, but you might want to ask a Prefect to see if they can track or call it somehow, before it gets trapped somewhere or hurt."

The girls face lit up in realisation. "Oh! Of course, thank you!" She turned to run off, but spun back and thrust her hand out. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter," Harry sighed, shaking her hand and dropping it as soon as was polite.

Watching the girl practically start frothing at the mouth at his name, Harry felt a headache coming on.

"Are you really? I've read all about you!" She opened her mouth to continue, shoving her way onto the seat next to Goyle in anticipation, but Harry cut her off sharply.

"Yes, I saw those books too. Not a single one is accurate. In fact they are so inaccurate and poorly researched that I will be suing the authors as soon as I can find a suitable lawyer to handle it for me."

Hermione gaped, looking like Harry had just punched her in the stomach and kicked her puppy for good measure. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that neither I nor my guardians approved any books or merchandising using my name, and everything in the books touted as so called fact have no basis on anything beyond speculation at best. I never gave any interviews, and I was never examined by any of these so called experts. In fact, I didn't even know I was a wizard until my birthday a month ago. So anything that you think you know about me from those books, forget it." Harry scowled, while internally doing a little wiggle of excitement. Exploding First Years was way more fun than Exploding Snap, and the little girl looked fit to burst.

Hermione looked devastated. "But-"

"Weren't you helping someone look for a toad?" Malfoy asked neutrally. He could see that Harry was up to something, and wasn't about to alienate anyone until he knew for certain what the plan was.

Hermione gasped and jumped up, practically running from the compartment with a shouted thank you over her shoulder.

Draco glanced at Harry and saw him flick his eye toward the door in a clear dismissal now that his role for the trip was done. Standing, he gathered up his goons with a glance, and turned back to the dark haired boy.

"I'll see you around, Potter. Feel free to come see me if you have any questions; I'd be happy to help." He smiled, eyes glittering with supressed laughter at the look of outrage on Weasley's face.

"Good riddance to the slimy snakes," Ron spat when the door shut, leaving the two boys alone again. "You really don't want to associate with the likes of them, you'll ruin your reputation. Everyone knows that Malfoy's dad was a Death Eater and bribed his way out of trouble. He claimed to be under the Imperious Curse, but nobody really believes it."

"Snakes aren't slimy," Harry said without looking up, his nose buried in his book again.

"What?" Ron frowned, confused.

"Snakes. They aren't slimy. I can't speak as to Slytherins, but reptiles as a general rule aren't slimy at all. If you're going to insult someone, at least be accurate." Harry's disinterested tone seemed to finally break through Weasley's self-absorbed haze, leaving the boy speechless.

"Wha-"

"Shh!" Harry snapped, already completely fed up with the idiot. "I'm reading!"

And to Harry's joy, Weasley got finally got the message and silence reigned. For about ten minutes.

Harry's first view of Hogwarts left him in awe, despite his determination to be unimpressed.

Towering ramparts studded with parapets were silhouetted dramatically against the night sky, a multitude of windows glittering like scintillating gemstones from the candlelight flickering within; a breathtaking vision of medieval splendour, frozen in time like Aurora's estate in Elise's favourite fairy tale.

Harry squinted slightly and tilted his head, drawing the attention of Draco and Ron, both of which had crowded into the boat with him.

"How do planes overhead not see this? It has more buttresses than Uncle Vernon!"

Ron and Draco stared in confusion, while the fourth member of their boat, a dark skinned boy who'd introduced himself as Dean Thomas, snorted a laugh.

Harry settled back into his thoughts, ignoring the people around him for the moment. As they climbed out of the boats and up some slick stairs to a large wooden door, he could feel Ron and Draco jostling into position behind his shoulders, Draco firmly taking the right and refusing to budge. He should probably have a word with the blond about being so obvious, but he honestly didn't care right now.

Hagrid knocked on the door, which opened to reveal an older woman with a stern expression, her hair tightly bound back into a bun with a pointed hat perched on top.

Harry made a mental note to watch this one, she seemed the by the rules type.

"Firs' years, Professor!" Hagrid announced cheerfully.

"Thank you Hagrid, I'll take it from here." The Professor replied. She turned, leading them into an antechamber, before turning to address them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, I am Professor McGonagall. Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Now, while you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you house points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. The sorting will begin momentarily; you should use this time to straighten yourselves up." She eyed Ron's dishevelled clothing and smudged nose disfavourably, lips pinching together into a thin line.

The redhead quailed under her gaze, shrinking back to partially hide behind Harry.

The young crime lord immediately counted that as yet another point against The Annoyance, and decided to shake the fool as soon as humanly possible. Turning to Draco, and noticing that Crabbe and Goyle were still lurking like bodyguards, he coughed slightly.

"Yes?" Draco looked at him inquisitively.

"Do I look ok? I don't have a mirror or anything." Harry affected a shy look.

Draco grinned, and reached up to straighten his collar and tie, pulling lightly on his robes to adjust the fall and make them square across the shoulders. He eyed Harrys short messy locks with a grimace.

"Not much I can do about the hair, I'm afraid. You should try growing it out. The extra weight will help it fall better and stop if from getting so wild."

Harry smiled gratefully. "Is there a way to make it grow faster magically? I hate looking so messy all the time. I couldn't help it before, but I have some proper clothes now, and anything else I can do to look better would be awesome. I didn't know until recently, but apparently my family was some sort of big deal in this world or something, and now that I know I'm famous as well," he paused with a grimace and look down, fiddling with his sleeve. "I figure I should at least make an effort, you know? I don't want to be an embarrassment. I want to do my family proud, even if they aren't around to see me." He added a blush for good measure.

Draco bit his lip, desperately trying not to laugh. The children around them were lapping it up, despite pretending not to listen. Weasley, however, looked like he was fighting down a fit of jealousy. His face nearly matched his hair!

"Well, come see me in the next few days and we'll see what we can do. We can grow your hair out and give you a decent haircut at least."

Whatever else he might have said was interrupted by Professor McGonagall coming back and ushering them into a single line.

Walking into what Harry knew was called the Great Hall, he glanced up at the enchanted ceiling. Impressed, he made a mental note to ask Alex if it was feasible to do something similar to his is Connor's bedroom ceilings. Maybe something to show the constellations in real time, regardless of weather. He paid scant attention to the other First Years being sorted, more interested in scanning the Hall for those twins. Ron had said that all his family were Gryffindor's, so he looked over there first. He spotted them easily, their orange hair standing out like a sore thumb. Watching them for a moment, he wondered how to go about approaching them.

"Harry Potter." His name was called.

Turning back to the front, he walked up the handful of steps, and sat himself on the rickety three legged stool. A large hat was placed on his head, falling down over his eyes.

"Well, what do we have here?" A voice said quietly in his ear. "Oh my, that's quite the history you have, lad! And a mind to match!"

"Excuse me," Harry projected mentally, careful to not shout at the entity rummaging through his head.

"Yes?" The voice asked.

"Can I assume that you are the Sorting Hat?"

"Indeed you can, Mr Potter." The Hat chuckled.

"May I ask your name?" Harry enquired politely.

"Albert," The Hat gave the impression of smiling. "We have limited time, so you might want to ask those questions that I can feel in your mind. Excellent Occlumency by the way, especially for someone so young. You have the basics down well."

"Thank you," Harry 'smiled' back. "You live in the Headmasters office during the year, yes?"

"Yes," Came the cautious reply.

"I want a spy in there. What will it take to make that spy be you?" The boy decided to skip any pretence of subtlety, since as Albert had pointed out, they were short on time.

"Ordinarily, I'd say nothing; but I've seen what's in your head, and I've seen and overheard a few things that make me worry about what that old man is up to. I won't give you information on other students, or anything personal, but I will tell you anything that I think is relevant to the safety of you or the student body as a whole."

Harry nodded mentally. "Reasonable. Your price?"

"I only see and learn what is in the heads of an endless parade of eleven year olds. I want knowledge. I've seen so many interesting things that I want to learn more of, but have no way to do so."

"I'm not certain how to go about teaching you," Harry admitted.

"Oh, no need. Just insert books into me, and I absorb the knowledge. You bring me books, put them in me, and replace them each week with a new set. I'll tell you if there is anything in particular I want to explore. Deal?"

"Deal," Harry said instantly. "Now, about my sorting…"

"Ah yes. I can see a determination for Ravenclaw. Why is that?"

"Because I need to be in a trusted position at the school. Slytherins are mistrusted automatically, Gryffindor's alienate too many groups, and nobody takes Hufflepuff's seriously. That leaves Ravenclaw. No major disputes with any other houses, trusted by all and able to freely associate with anyone they choose since they are effectively neutral unless it involves a book."

Albert paused for a second. "That's very well thought out; I can see you've put a lot of effort into you plans for your Hogwarts years. I wish you well with them. Oh, and the Headmasters current password is Sherbet, be sure to mind the wards. I'll be expecting my books in a week!"

Harry became aware of the silence in the hall, everyone waiting with barely restrained impatience for this monumental decision.

A rip in the brim opened up, and a voice rang out. "Slytherin!"

Harry had only a split second to respond before the Hat was whipped off his head by a flustered McGonagall.

"Oh, I am going to set you on fire, you son of a-"

A shocked silence fell over the Hall, while a stone faced Harry rose and moved towards the Slytherin table.

Draco smiled and began clapping, quickly followed by the rest of the Snakes, and they made a seat for him next to the blond aristocrat.

Sitting, Harry smiled gratefully at his new housemates, before looking down at his plate and clenching his jaw. He would have to rework all of his plans now, and adjust how Draco would fit in with them. He mentally cursed Albert in every way he could think of. Still, at least he had a week to plan a suitable revenge.

The rest of the sorting passed in a haze of rapid plotting and some introductions that he barely spared enough attention to remember. At one point, Dumbledore had started the feast, and Harry had absently served himself a small plateful, trying to put together a balanced meal. He noted that everything was delicious, but the majority was so heavy and greasy that it made his stomach turn. With a sigh, he pushed the bulk of it aside, and picked at a salad and some bread. Yet another mental note was added to the pile; it seemed he needed to find the kitchen and speak to the House Elves to make sure he got food he could actually stomach.

Finally, Dumbledore tapped his glass, gaining everyone's attention.

"Now that we are all fed and watered, there are a few start of year announcements. The first years please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. A few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." He levelled his twinkling gaze to the Weasley twins, and Harry added that to his mental file. Apparently they were troublemakers. Good.

"Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch," he gestured to a ragged man near the main doors, standing sullenly next to a tattered long haired cat with red eyes, "has asked me to remind you that the 3rd floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you."

Harry carefully kept his face impassive, while mentally rolling his eyes. Well, at least he had a fairly good idea where Flamel's stone was now; that would save him some time. The only question was who, aside from the entire student body, the Headmaster was trying to tempt into going after it.

Standing with the rest of his housemates, Harry followed the prefects down into the dungeons. Nudging Draco, he smiled tentatively.

"Well, this will make helping with my appearance and social education easier, right?"

The blond grinned back, thrilled to have his best friend and boss so close. And best of all, he was away from Weasley!

"Indeed it will, Potter. We'll get you up to standard in no time, right?" He asked the other first years.

A chorus of agreement followed, and Harry indulged in a small but genuine smile.

This might be interesting after all.