3 Chapter 3

"Have you seen a toad around here? A boy name Nevile lost his-" A bushy-haired girl with buckteeth abruptly opened the door the compartment. "Is this the Levitation Charm? This is a first-year spell, right? I've read the entire book already, and I've tried a few of the spells. I made some of them work for me, but not all. Nobody in my family is magic, but I was so excited when I got the letter. Hogwarts is supposed to be the best school of witchcraft. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Are you second years?"

"Weren't you searching for a toad?" Tracey asked with an amused smile. Blaise watched Hermione with a raised eyebrow while Daphne Greengrass stared at her with a cold look.

"It's rude not to introduce yourself," Hermione replied with a huff.

"It's also rude to barge in a compartment." Daphne's voice was as icy as her look, and the temperature of the compartment dropped a few degrees. She was having a good time practicing the Levitation Charm and sharing a few words with the rest of the kids there, but the bushy-haired girl just had to interrupt them.

Blaise was a close friend since their families kept in touch. His mother and her own were on good terms. Tracey was her best friend for years now, and she seemed to be having a blast talking with Harry Potter. Daphne wasn't sure what to think of the Boy-Who-Lived. He was 11, but he was already one of the most famous people in the Wizarding World. She was expecting him to be arrogant and prideful, like a certain blonde heir, but that didn't seem to be the case. Harry was easy-going, nice to talk to, but there was something strange about him. He was supposed to be an heir to one of the Ancient and Most Noble House, yet he didn't act like one. Harry acted more like a Muggleborn and wore Muggleborn clothes. Maybe that was the reason she got that weird feeling about him.

"It's okay," Harry said calmly. His shields were still down, and he felt it. Hermione was anxious. Worried that she won't be able to make any friends here. That no one would like her.

"My name is Harry Potter, and those are Blaise Zabini, Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass." He introduced everyone in the compartment, getting a giggle from Tracey, an amused look from Blaise, and a cold glare from Daphne.

Hermione's eyes immediately darted to his forehead. Harry had to resist scowling. 'Why does everyone look towards my forehead when I introduce myself? This is getting out of hand!'

"Are you really?" Hermione asked with a frown, contemplating whether he had lied to her. "I read all about Harry Potter. He is in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and the Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth and Twenty-First Century. Harry Potter is supposed to have a scar on his forehead, and you don't have one."

A smirk almost formed on Daphne's face before it returned to her natural frosty look. He heard her thoughts. 'You should've let me handle it, now, you deal with her.'

"Yes, and there are books about me banishing a Banshee at the age of 6 and fighting a 1000-year-old Egyptian Pharoh at the age of 7. Do you think that's also true?" Harry shook his head. "Not everything that is written in a book is true."

"But it said in the books that Harry Potter has a scar! You don't! You are a liar." Hermione protested again.

"Go away," Harry said almost as frosty as Daphne. She wasn't even accepting that a book might be wrong. He heard her thoughts on how she would never believe that he is Harry Potter. There was no point in talking anymore.

"I'll expose your lies!" Hermione proclaimed before slamming the door.

"That's what you get for being kind to a Muggleborn," Daphne told him with a knowing look. "You could've shown her your Potter Family ring, and she still wouldn't have believed you."

Daphne wasn't 100% sure he was Harry Potter and wanted to see his ring. She was fishing for information. Her thoughts were loud and clear to him. Harry's hand hovered over his Mokeskin pouch, and the Potter Family ring appeared from within it. He showed it to her without a word.

Daphne stared with a neutral look, but her thoughts were running wild. 'He is a lot smarter than I thought. I shouldn't underestimate him. Just from a single mention of the ring, he understood what I wanted.'

'If only you knew.' Harry barely resisted laughing out. He was about to return the ring back to his pouch when Daphne stopped him. "Don't. Put it on and wear it. The Purebloods and Half-bloods would at least recognize it."

Harry thought for a moment, felt her sincere feelings, and decided to place it on his right ring finger. "I guess you are right."

Daphne was practically oozing smugness. He didn't even need to hear her thoughts to know what she was thinking. 'I'm always right.'

"Is that a Mokeskin pouch?" Tracey exclaimed with a dreamy look. "I always wanted one, but dad said they are expensive and that he would buy me one only when I graduate. They are also rare and hard to make."

Harry was quite aware of that. He and Ororo had explored Diagon Alley a few times and had had only managed to find one store that sold them. The store didn't have much of them, and they were of lesser quality compared to his, but each one cost over 5 000 galleons. He wanted to get one for the people at the mansion, but he learned that only magicals can become owners of a Mokeskin pouch. In the end, only Ororo got one.

The two learned that the African beauty was a witch when Dumbledore had subtly asked where she had studied witchcraft. Albus was quite surprised was when he learned that Ororo had, in fact, not been trained yet was radiating so much magical aura. When he had spare time, the old man had visited them a few times at the Leaky Caldron and given them a few basic lessons. That was the reason Harry was already able to use most of the first year spells. Ororo didn't have a wand, but Harry was more than happy to gift her the wand he found in his mother's vault. He didn't think there is anyone more fit than Ororo to own it.

Before the four kids could continue practicing their charms, someone else barged in the compartment. Three boys entered, with two of them standing behind the middle one like bodyguards. The one in the front asked. "Is it true? One of you is impersonating Harry Potter?"

The boy had pale skin and blonde hair. His eyes scanned everyone in the compartment before they landed on Harry. His first looked at his forehead, then at his right ring finger, where he spotted the Potter Ring. Seeing it, the blonde boy let out a haughty scoff. "Leave it to a Muggleborn to spread lies."

His eyes then scanned the other people in the compartment once more. 'Blaise Zabini. His family is rich but only due to his whore of a mother. I don't know the brown-haired girl, she is useless and irrelevant. And Daphne Greengrass, another rich family. Father said she is only worth as a wife, but nothing more. None of them can stop me from allying myself with Harry Potter.'

"Potter." The blonde boy nodded to Harry. "This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle. And I'm Draco Malfoy." He extended his hand, but Harry just looked at him with a frown and stayed quiet.

Tracey couldn't stop herself from giggling. She found it funny how Harry completely ignored Draco.

"You're laughing at me?" Draco asked with an arrogant leer. "Who are you? Nothing but a no-name."

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sorts. I can help you with that."

Daphne was about to retort and defend her best friend when she saw Draco's eyes widen and skin whiten. His face was that of complete horror. He scrambled back, nearly falling down before running away from the compartment. Crabbe and Goyle looked utterly confused as they followed after him.

"What did you do?" Daphne asked Harry. One moment, Draco was acting as arrogant as always. The next, he was running away in fear, but she hadn't sensed anything. Harry hadn't even moved a muscle, yet she was sure that he was the reason that made Draco run away. The problem was she had no idea how.

"Me?" Harry asked with a mischievous smile. "I didn't do anything but glare." Harry had to restrain himself from laughing. He had just forced Draco to experience the fear and pain he felt when the Dursleys had beat him. More specifically, the time when his arm got broken before he was taken away by Charles. Harry didn't know why Draco wanted to ally himself with him, but he didn't care. He had a bad first impression of the blonde boy, especially when he had insulted everyone in the compartment. He had insulted them in his mind, but he had still done it. That was enough for him.

Daphne and Blaise eyed him suspiciously, but they had no proof that Harry had actually done something. Tracey just continued with her babbling and saying how funny Draco looked while running away.

"Let's just hope no more people barge in." Harry's words were like a trigger, and the doors to the compartment slammed open. A red-haired boy with freckles entered with excitement, and his eyes landed on Harry.

"You're Harry Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived?" Harry frowned. He didn't like the monicker the people of the Wizarding World had given him. To him, it sounded like 'the boy who lived but whose parents died.' It was plain offensive. "Blimey. I'm so excited to meet you. I'm Ron Weasly."

"And I'm Harry Potter, but apparently everyone else already knows that." He sighed.

"Do you like. Do you like, remember the-" Harry already knew where this was going and stopped him there. "Stop. Don't ask me that."

"That's rude, mate. I just wanted to-"

"Wanted to know if I remember the day my parents died? That's not rude at all." His voice was becoming as frosty as Daphne's. Did people really think that asking him if he remembers that day was okay?

"Mate, no need to act like that. I was just interested." Ron looked offended and shook his head. "Can I stay here and keep you company?"

"Do you see any free seats?" Daphne asked with her icy tone.

"Mate, you shouldn't hang out with people like her. They are a bad influence. Want to come with me to my compartment?" Ron was hell-bent on spending time with Harry.

"No, I'd rather stay here. Mate," Harry told him with a frown, emphasizing on the word 'mate.'

"Sooo, can I stay here then?"

Blaise chuckled when he saw Harry rolling his eyes. Ron obviously didn't get the memo. "There is no space in our compartment."

"You're nothing like how the books described you, mate." That was the tipping point. At that moment, Harry decided that he would do whatever it takes to take down those books. It annoyed him that people believed that he was supposed to act in a specific manner because of them. "No, I'm not. Now, please leave us alone."

"You're so rude, you won't make any friends in Hogwarts," Ron said before leaving the compartment.

Harry didn't really care how many friends he made in Hogwarts. He was going there to study magic and deal with that stupid prophecy. The moment that's done, he was going to return to the USA. He had no plans on staying longer than necessary in the UK.

The rest of the ride was peaceful without any more interruptions. There was an announcement that they would shortly be arriving at their destination and that they should change into their school robes. Harry and Blaise left for the loo, leaving Daphne and Tracey to change in the compartment.

While they were putting on their robes, Blaise looked down at himself than at Harry. Blaise wasn't fat nor skinny, he had a lithe figure. His mother had made sure of that. She wouldn't allow him to look bad. Harry, however, had an athletic figure. He wasn't buffed since he was still 11 years old, but his muscles were visible, he was in good physical shape.

"How do you look like that?" Blaise asked.

"Lots of physical exercises," Harry answered as if it wasn't obvious.

"Physical exercises?" Blaise questioned uncertainly. Both words were said like they sounded foreign to him. Which in a way they were. Wizards and witches weren't known for their incredible physical strength. Most of them were lazy and would rather use magic for their daily activities. If they have to clean the house, they would either use magic, or if they have any, order their house elves. If they have to travel somewhere, they would either use the Floo Network, Portkeys or Apparate. Most wizards and witches plain and simple don't do physical exercises.

---------------------------

"Harry? Harry, are you listening?" Tracey nudged him with her elbow. "You haven't stopped staring at the castle since we've seen it."

"Um, ah, yes, I was just interested in it," Harry replied with a weak laugh. He brought his mental shield up, and his gaze left the castle. The moment his eyes had laid onto Hogwarts, he had felt it. The castle was alive! Harry felt like Hogwarts was embracing all the kids like a mother would embrace her children. The happiness he felt from the castle put him in a trance.

"I asked you if you had ever flown on a broom," Tracey said, but before Harry could reply, she continued on. "I have a few training brooms in my home. I loved flying on them ever since I was 7. I'm telling you, it's the most amazing feeling ever to soar through the skies with the wind blowing your hair..."

Tracey continued babbling, and the three other kids on the boat smiled amusingly at her. Harry had to agree with her, though. Flying is indeed amazing. With his telekinesis, he could lift himself up and soar through the skies. He was nothing compared to Ororo, who was faster and could stay in the air longer, but he was getting better.

Professor McGonagall greeted them at the entrance of Hogwarts, and with a flick of her wand, she opened the large wooden doors. At that moment, a few ghosts appeared through the walls and spooked the kids, including Harry, but he wasn't going to admit that. He certainly didn't yelp like a little girl as Blaise put it.

The old and patched-up singing hat was a weird event. Harry didn't understand the point of it, nor did he understand the point of sorting the students into different houses. When he had asked why that was the case, he was told that it's how it has always been and that it's tradition.

One by one, the students were called by their names and asked to put on the Sorting Hat. Usually, the hat took no more than a minute to decide in which house a kid should be sorted, but there were a few exceptions. A round-faced, chubby kid by the name of Neville Longbottom took a couple minutes, and Hermione Grange took just a bit more to be sorted. Both ended up being sorted in Gryffindor.

When Harry's name was called out, everyone started whispering and pointing fingers at him. As quickly as possible, he walked up to the Sorting Hat and put it on.

"Please don't kill me! I come in peace!" The Sorting Hat screamed in his mind as the Phoenix was about to incinerate it. Ever since Dumbledore had managed to escape, it had been standing guard, ready for someone else to try his luck.

"Um, hello?" Harry said, a bit confused with the situation. "Why are you here?"

"I check the memories of kids and their thought process before I decided which house is the best for them," the hat explained and looked around his world. "Can't seem to do the same with you. I've never met someone with such strong mental defenses. Nice world you got there, by the way."

"You can't sort me without looking through my memories?" Harry asked, getting a slight understanding of the houses in Hogwarts. Like-minded people get placed in the same house, so they have an easier time making friends.

"I can just choose a house randomly, but that wouldn't be fair, would it now?" The hat asked with a chuckle.

"Hmm. Difficult. Very difficult. What to do? What to do? How about this? You will share stories about yourself, and I will share stories about the four founders of Hogwarts?"

"The four founders?"

"Yes! I was created by them. Each one had imbued a part of their memories and personality in me, so I can correctly sort the kids that come to study here. Do you agree with my proposal, or would you like to be sorted randomly?"

Harry would've agreed to be chosen a house randomly since he didn't really care about them, but hearing about the four founders of Hogwarts sounded interesting. "Okay, then. What kind of stories do you want to hear about?"

"Any kind! Embarrassing ones are my favorite, though! I would love to hear those, and I promise I won't tell anyone else about them!"

"Well, if you promise not to tell anyone..."

Five minutes passed since Harry put on the hat. Slowly, they turned to ten, then fifteen. Everyone was confused about what was happening, except for Dumbledore. He was starting to get worried about the hat. Albus knew about the Phoenix inside Harry's mind and how strong the creature was. When twenty minutes passed, Dumbledore decided to check on Harry and the Sorting Hat. Just as he was about to reach for it, the hat spoke. "What are you doing, Albus?"

"You were taking a long time to sort the boy. It has already been twenty minutes since he put you on."

"Only twenty minutes?" The hat asked with a surprised voice and muttered. "I thought it was longer."

"Well, if you have waited twenty minutes, you can wait for twenty more. I'm having a very pleasant conversation with the boy, so leave us alone. Thank you very much." With that, the Sorting Hat returned to sharing stories with Harry.

Twenty minutes later.

"Well, it was nice talking with you, Harry. I had a good time. Don't forget what I told you about. I'm sure that will serve you well."

"I won't," Harry replied. "I will try my best to find them."

"I'm sure you will. Well, I believe it's time for me to sort you, right? Your house will be..."