Strangers on a Train

Harry halted as he stared into a compartment. It was probably rude since it wasn't like he knew the boy inside - because really, how would he know anyone headed for Hogwarts? - But he had seen him, once, at Gringotts, through the crystal window of a door leading to some goblin's office, doing what Hagrid had told him to never do. He was Arguing heatedly with some goblin. And, well, Harry had seen him gesturing wildly, which had to be even worse, and for a brief moment just before Harry rounded the corner, he was almost sure he had seen the boy starting to take off his clothes.

So, he really couldn't help himself after seeing something like that.

"So Harry, if three mates are trying to enter a compartment, and two of them have their hands full, would you care to take a stab at what the last bloke might have to do for them to get inside?" One of the twins, the one nearest him, said in a slightly strained tone. Harry really wasn't sure which twin it was, since he had lost track of who was where to begin with, and he was also almost certain that he had seen them switch places while he was scouting ahead for empty compartments. But that didn't help either. They could have switched places twice for all he knew.

Harry flushed slightly as he realized that they had no idea that he didn't know the other boy, but ended up concluding that it was less embarrassing to simply open the door and enter the compartment. And, Harry reasoned, he might even manage to befriend the boy. Who knew what would happen now that Dudley wasn't around to hit anyone who dared be nice to Harry until they left.

Harry, Fred, and George grunted and huffed as they heaved his trunk up onto the overhang. The boy had yet to say a word. Fred and George then started to leave after they spoke a final word to Harry, while surreptitiously glancing at the boy, who still had yet to say a word. They then spotted Harry's scar as he brushed his matted hair from his forehead, and had their… reaction? Just as the rest of the wizarding world. The boy stayed silent. Eventually, the twins turned to leave.

Which was when the boy, who had otherwise been playing quite the pleasant tune, sharply and loudly played all the strings at once. The twins turned around to stare at him, Harry's head spun to look at him, and still the boy said not a word!

The boy's face was blank as he stared directly into the twins' eyes, his tune darker and more urgent than it was before. The twins sat down, staring intently at the boy, waiting for any explanation at all. Harry himself studied the boy for some sort of… solution, or something, for he was beginning to grow slightly desperate for anything he could make sense of.

The atmosphere inside the compartment got more and more awkward.

The boy was, as far as he could tell, around Harry's age, with tanned skin, bright grey eyes, and long, light-blonde, almost whiteish hair tied in a messy bun behind his head, looking quite like a tiny version of what Harry imagined California surfers to be. Perhaps he wanted fresh air? Surfers liked fresh air, did they not? So, he wanted them to crack open the window.

But he also could just do it himself. Unless… He really wanted to keep playing! But then why not simply ask them?... Harry fumbled a bit around inside his scattered thoughts, before a quiet voice in the back of his mind called out to him. He could be mute.

Harry's thoughts ground to a halt as he realized that he was, at that very moment, considering the plausibility of a mute surfer who was simultaneously so desperate to keep playing his guitar that he could not stop for a moment, but was also in need of air to such a degree that he was willing to stare at strangers until they got the idea and opened it for him. Perhaps Harry was the one who needed air if those were his conclusions.

Harry slowly, carefully, reached towards the window. The boy turned and stared into Harry's eyes. He had a piercing gaze, which practically pinned Harry's hand in place.

At least, it pinned his hand until he tried to retract it, which went fine. Harry gave his hand a glare. Damn traitorl . And so, they sat in further silence. Whenever anyone tried to do anything, they were stared at with more and more hurried music being strummed in time with their 'transgression'. HHe

But, just as Harry was starting to transition from confused to upset, something happened that tore him straight back to confusion. Peels of joyful, warm laughter cascaded from the boy as all playing halted and he practically folded in half he was laughing so hard, all of which only further confused Harry, as he was starting to worry that surfer-boy had gone mad. An option Harry realized he should have considered far sooner, as he now distinctly remembered seeing the very same boy begin to take his clothes off in Gringotts.

"I- I apologise," The boy said between slowly shrinking bouts of laughter, "I really truly do. Both for neglecting to help with your luggage, and for engineering possibly the most awkward experience any person abord this train has ever had the misfortune to experience. I imagined when I started this that it would only take a moment before someone spoke, and that no matter how hard I stared it would certainly never go on for this long. But, well," The boy chuckled before speaking further with a small, rather smug grin, "here we are."

"Here we are indeed. Aren't we George" Fred said, and as Harry turned to them, he saw very impish grins on both their faces.

"I believe we are, Fred. But it isn't so bad, is it?"

"No, I don't believe it is. After all-"

"-We will be paying this back a hundred-fold before the year is over."

"And at least tenfold before the week is out."

"If we slack off at the start of the new year? Maybe. But I think we'll get him at least twenty-fold if we really apply ourselves. Don't you agree, George?"

"I do indeed, Fred"

They both watched as the twins exited the compartment, grinning mischievously to one another.

As the boy looked flummoxed, Harry felt it was his turn to smirk a bit.

"Well. That was… Mildly concerning." The boy stared after the twins for a moment, before shrugging. "Oh well, if I spend energy worrying about it, they've already halfway won. Besides, how bad could it really be? The name is Alexander," Alexander paused, a considering look overtaking him "Except if they ask. If they ask, my name is Martin, Martin Chesterfield, got that?" He said with a wink.

Harry laughed, both at what Alexander said, and at the memory of the trickster twins who had so recently pranked their mother sitting in awkward silence for two minutes for no other reason than that a boy two years younger than them was staring at them.

There was a lull then, as Alexander started tuning his old beaten guitar, and Harry decided to finally ask the question that had been bugging him for some time.

"Hey, so I saw you in Gringotts by accident, but why were you taking off your clothes at Gringotts?"

Alexander looked up from his guitar for a moment, before answering calmly, "Harry, that is a bit of a weird question to ask someone. But, rest assured, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation. You see, I saw an opportunity for profit, nay, for greatness! You see, I realized that the currency of tomorrow are slabs of bio-petrified hummus backed by a ludicrously high gold standard from Gringotts. Now, Skobrod the banker refused to recognize my idea, so I took the only reasonable course of action. I attempted to goad him to a good old naked mudwrestling duel, with the financial backing of Gringotts on the line." Alexander's face became forlorn then, and he stared into the distance with a slow shake of his head. "Sadly, he refused my challenge, and here I stand, without a forty-thousand-year business model in the making."

Harry was sure he looked just as gobsmacked as he felt, and soon it was proven true as Alexander caught onto his expression, and spoke to 'clarify'.

"Ah, I understand the confusion. You see, it takes around forty-thousand-years for biological material to petrify under the right conditions."

Harry had been about to ask into the challenge, and maybe leave the compartment, when he could not help himself, and asked another question which suddenly popped into his mind.

"Wait, if it takes so long, then how would it be an opportunity for profit for you? Actually, how would it be an opportunity at all?"

And so began the most inane and most entertaining discussion Harry had ever been part of.

Ron knew he should probably just pick a compartment and get it over with. Even if who you shared a compartment with was pretty important - just look at his brothers. Fred and George sat with Lee Jordan, and they became friends. Same with Bill and Charlie. And Perce? He sat alone, and would you look at that, no friends!

Well, maybe Percy was a bad example since Ron didn't actually know if he had any friends. He only talked about classes and studying while he was back home, after all. But, well, Percy was pretty annoying, and even if Ron had to love him with the whole brother thing, that just made it more reasonable that people who weren't brothers with him wouldn't be his friend.

But it didn't really matter, did it? It wasn't like he could get to know anyone without going in anyways, so he might as well pick any place with other first years.

Of course, then he heard heated arguing from one compartment with two blokes inside, and, well, maybe he could get to know one compartment without getting in?

He felt a bit of shame as he pretended to look for something in his trunk next to their door, but he just wanted to get a feel for them and see if they were fun to be around, or if he should just pick a random door.

"Harry, you need to understand the idea first before you reject it! Gringotts would, with a little clever distribution and economical manoeuvring, be able to cement the value of the petrified hummus as sky high! Then, they would have a cash of entirely Gringotts controlled super-currency backed by their own gold standard and what they themselves gave for them. And the best part? They'd be impossible to reproduce, because it would take forty-thousand-years! It would only take a small investment on their side now, but in the far future, they'd get a massive payout compared to their investment!" One of them - a blonde bloke with grey eyes - argued vehemently.

"Alexander, I understand the idea just fine, I just don't think it's very good. I mean, with how fast technology is advancing, and, well, with whatever magic is doing and can do, it just seems like there'd be half a hundred ways of making petrified hummus over the weekend. No matter how you look at it, they would be worth for enough that their worth, should it be a success, would exceed the minuscule chance of it being anything other than a waste of money." The black-haired one said, shrugging calmly with a smile in the face of the blonde's passion.

Ron heard the door of the compartment slid open, and just as he looked up from his trunk in surprise, he was grabbed by one arm and pulled inside by the blonde guy, and shoved into a seat next to the not-manic-one.

"You, you heard everything, right? Well, then back me up, and help me explain to Harry here why he's a fool for going against the new hummus dominated world order!"

Ron stared at him for a moment. The mad weirdo was leaning towards Ron from his seat, and it sort of felt like he was pleading with Ron to see reason or something with all his wild gestures and gesticulations. Ron would have almost bought the look of desperation, if not for the slight smile playing on the boys lips, and the humour dancing in his eyes… and the way Ron was pretty sure Alexander was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at what he was trying to drag Ron into.

"Alright mate, sure, I'll help you judge, but, well, isn't it obvious? Because to me, it seems like Harry is forgetting something pretty major. I mean, even if they don't end up being worth half of London or whatever your idea is, they can probably still be sold to some bloke out there who wants to have either a failed Gringotts plan just for the fun of it, or to a… Rock collector, or something. That way, I reckon that you can at worst take a bit of a loss if - let's be honest - when it doesn't work, and if you happen to be alive in a time of particular stupidity, you get tons of galleons. I just figure that you're not losing anything, and you might win a lot, which seem like pretty good odds to me."

From there, Alexander started to gloat a lot. Towards Harry especially, but, well, he was such a caricature about it, like some sort of Malfoy, but if a Malfoy was also a bit mad, that he was always more of a joke than a jackass, which was clearly the point. Because really, they just couldn't help cracking up, when, after they finally managed to get his trunk up to the others, and were sitting there, silently panting, and Alexander out of nowhere just said "Wow. This feeling of success reminds me of that time I WAS VICTORIOUS in our hummus debate. Of course, you wouldn't know that feeling, would you, Harry?" While staring Harry dead in the eye with a completely straight face.

And, well, they were fun outside of that too. Harry was pretty down to earth compared to Alexander's manic energy, but he was pretty witty. It also helped that Harry was generous, and shared candy with them when neither of them could buy anything. It was especially fun to watch Harry and Alexander argue, especially stupid arguments, since that let Alexander come up with more and more wild, and stupid, arguments, while Harry calmly and cleverly argued around the stupid to shoot down Alexander's ideas. And Ron? Well, Ron realized that watching them argue was funny, as was arguing with them, so he stoked the fire, and helped out whenever someone seemed to get the upper hand.

He had years of practice doing that with his brothers.

And, well, there was just some sort of… charm, or something, about Alexander. Like he had just… done or seen something that let him be totally sure of everything about himself, even the stupid parts. Like when he condescendingly explained that he refused to share the candy Harry had just given him, because it was his gift. It was stupid and petty, sure, but, well, he was just so confident about it that it didn't feel annoying and was just funny. It was magnetic, sorta.

Ron couldn't help but wonder how you got that sort of thing. It'd be nice to have for the sorting.

Hermione scowled as she was forced to press herself against the wall as a group of students ran by. Honestly, it was so annoying, and they were even third years in her estimation, so they didn't even have the excuse of being new. They really should have matured by then, and realized that one should focus one preparing for school when it had yet to start, especially when they only had a single day left. The only reason she had left was because Neville needed help, and no one else had seemed to be helping him.

Hermione continued to scowl until she reached the next compartment she wanted to ask around in, and smoothed her features into a neutral look. There had to be at least a few students in her year who were actually serious about their studies, after all, and it wouldn't do to make a bad first impression if they were in there. She did want friends, after all. Just friends who were intellectually stimulating.

"Have you seen a Toad? Neville Longbottom is missing his," Hermione said as she slid the door open, and couldn't help the little jolt of pride at her own delivery. It was quite mature, she thought, after all, she had been mimicking the one mum used whenever she spoke to those businessmen who came to their door. That had to be the correct tone, right? After all, mum wouldn't talk to businessmen rudely, since that might hurt her business chances, but it would also show that she was serious, wouldn't it?

All three boys turned to look at her. Good. That meant she wasn't being withdrawn, like dad had warned about.

The blonde one, who was wearing a very scruffy shirt that wasn't even buttoned properly, and pants with holes and fraying all around the bottom hem turned to her, starting to speak.

"Sadly, we have yet to see a toad on the run, entertaining as that would be. Now," He clapped his hands together in a very theatrical manner, and she already could tell that what came next would make it clear that he was just as immature as everyone else. "It's good that you finally showed up, because we need another vote on a matter of great importance. You see, we have already come to the conclusion that investing in petrified hummus as a currency would be a grand idea. However, now these two dithering, senile fools are refusing to see reason, and admit that purple should be the most valuable hummus colour, obviously, because it is the single most imperious colour, due to its association with Roman emperors."

"In fact, Ron here," Here he gestured dismissively and rudely to the red-haired boy, who could not even be bothered to make himself presentable for the train ride, as seen by the smudge on his nose, "suggested - in an uncanny display of grotesque vanity might I add - that red should be the most valuable, in reference to his own hair. And-"

Ron then cut in, interrupting the blonde one. "Hey! Don't poison her against me, I wanted red for Gryffindor, not for my hair. And for that matter, I'd like to point out that you're the fool for picking the muggle empire colour, rather than the wizarding one, for a wizarding currency. You should have picked the colour of the Baudan empire, which was a wizarding empire from… somewhere in Africa. And do you know what colour it was? Red!" Ron said, sounding actually triumphant even though he only won such a petty and useless argument.

The blonde one puffed up, readying himself to respond with something probably equally immature, when he suddenly… deflated, or whatever, into a normal person. "Wait, there was a wizarding empire in Africa? When? Where? How? I mean, I can only imagine the power wizarding kind held back then, even if wands only spread from Europe around the fifteenth and sixteenth century as European powers began to export along the silk road rather than primarily importing, and I am aware that there are other fundamental schools of magic. But, with how limited and hard to manage complex spellcraft was before wands, I just… I can't imagine how they would establish something as vast as an empire," The boy said, leaning forwards in interest as his entire… personality changed from blustering blowhard to curious scholar. It was quite peculiar.

"Oh, well, it was just a story I heard, and it was a pretty small empire I guess, with it being more of a witch coven, or shaman ring, or something, who controlled a lot of villages and towns under one head shaman. But, I mean, there was still one leader at the helm, so it still counts." Ron said, quite defensive of his argument.

"Oh, it absolutely does, but forget about that. Something far more interesting than hummus has come up, especially considering the fact that at this point it was just your great suggestion of red up against Harry's black. I only ignored him as much as did because he wasn't a real opponent."

The three boys were quickly drawn into a new, slightly better, discussion. Of course, it still wasn't actually on their curriculum, and was all rooted in Ron's half remembered story, but at least it wasn't hummus. Hermione stood still for a moment, considering what she should do. Perhaps it was best to just leave, and allow them to do as they pleased… However it wouldn't be right to not at least warn them that they were wasting time, and were unprepared. Perhaps she should even demonstrate what she had learned by just applying herself a bit for the last few weeks, and maybe they would do the same. And, if not, then she could - at some point - at least remind them of the fact that she had warned them, and then they might be more serious and mature afterwards.

As Hermione came back to herself, she couldn't help but notice that the blonde boy had retreated from the conversation, and was trying the catch her eye. Of course, when she did turn to him, he just nodded to the other two boys with a wink. Did he… redirect the conversation on purpose? But why? Why would he think she would fancy a discussion based on nothing other than hearsay and conjecture? The one original piece of actual information was interesting, but the conversation itself was still just as… empty as the hummus debacle. They really did need her help.

"I'll be taking my leave then. Neville still needs his toad found, after all. But you really should be getting ready, I spoke to the conductor just recently, and he said that we would be there in only a short while. I personally spent most of the trip preparing, by rereading the books, and practicing spells, and other such things. You know, so that if they want an exhibition of what we have learned in order to sort us, I would be ready. And you really should also be getting presentable, or at least into uniform. And you have a spot of dirt on your nose" Hermione looked them over. They… They weren't reacting as she had hoped. She would understand a bit of embarrassment, but then they should be grateful, should they not? She had given them information about the train and arrival, after all, and then she had given them advice about proper study habits, but without actually telling them what to do, just like mum had told her. But, well…

Ron had rubbed at his nose a bit, but then frowned at her with a sullen look in his blue eyes, before turning to look out the window. Harry was looking at her with worry, which was near what she had hoped for, she supposed, but she hadn't wanted to make them feel bad, she had wanted to inspire them. And, well, it didn't exactly stick, did it? He instead caught Ron's eye, and Ron made an… Oh. He had slowly raised his hand to his temple and was spinning around a finger in a way where she could barely make it out. He… he didn't like her, did he? At least he did it surreptitiously. So he wasn't trying to be mean or anything. Of course, it did make Harry, the dark haired boy with the tape-repaired glasses, turn from her as well.

The only one left looking at her, the blonde one with the grey eyes whose name she still didn't know, gazed at her with a considering look, one holding what she thought might have been a touch of bitterness, although she couldn't even begin to guess as to why that might be before it was gone. This really wasn't what she had hoped for. Perhaps she could still mend whatever mistakes she made if she helped them a bit? She could use Reparo to fix Harry's glasses. That had to help at least a little bit.

"Here, allow me," Hermione grabbed her wand, and pointed it at Harry's glasses, who seemed a bit startled, glancing between her and her wand as she spoke the incantation clearly, while focusing on what she wanted the spell to do. It had been a bit hard at first, to focus so intently on the desired outcome and on speaking the words exactly right, at least at first, but she had become quite good at it over the summer.

Harry pulled off his glasses then, and studied where the tape keeping them together had been before, before looking back to her hesitantly, and muttering a quick, "Thanks, I suppose."

Hermione felt a brief swell of satisfaction. That had to have at least fixed whatever they felt she had done earlier. Now, Ron had to be from a wizarding family, since otherwise he wouldn't know about wizarding children's stories, so maybe, if she asked, he could show some of the spells he must know, and they could start a proper academic discussion, as befitting for a trip to a school.

"Can any of you cast any spells yet? I've only tried a couple, but I haven't been unable to learn any that I've tried yet."

That had to be perfect. Humble, by only saying that she knew a couple, but not so humble that it seemed false, like dad had warned about.

But… Ron just glowered at her again. And Harry looked worried again. Silence hung over the compartment for a moment, thick and clawing and utterly awkward, but she had no ideas as to what she might say now. Thankfully, the blonde spoke after only a short while after

"Thank you for the help with glasses over there, Hermione, and I do as a matter of fact know one or two spells. Harry, if you would, hold out your hand, with a galleon on your palm, and I shall demonstrate the un coup de pince spell." The blonde boy was speaking with so much energy and just… fun, that it popped the awkward silence she had managed to create. Like he had opened the window to air out a stale room.

"Alright, sure?" Harry said, looking bemused at the instructions for the unknown spell as he slipped a galleon from his pocket and placed it as diceted.

The blonde boy then darted his hand forwards, nimbly took the coin from Harry, only for him to calmly slip it into his own pocket without even the slightest pause.

Once again, none of them were speaking, but this was a far less awkward silence.

Harry was the one to break the silence as he asked with an expectant tone, but it seemed like he was more expecting something other than the coin, since he wasn't even holding out his hand "…Hey Alexander, am I going to get that galleon back?"

Alexander looked up from the book he had started to read while she was studying Harry, closing it softly as he set it aside to lean forwards with a small, disappointed shake of his head. He looked quite like a teacher when he did that, really, or even a dad.

"Harry, life sometimes gives us chances to learn. These opportunities often come from our own mistakes in life. You, just now, offered up your coin for a "spell" named 'the pinch' which is the French equivalent of calling a spell 'the five finger discount'. And, please, before you even start making excuses for yourself, do remember that I will only be more disappointed with you if I were to hear that you invested in an idea without even knowing the meaning of name." All of that was said with such confidence, and- and charm that no one got mad like they did when she lectured people. Then he switched to a more upbeat, excited tone like he was trying to cheer up Harry.

"But, a mistake now means a mistake avoided in the future. This is a chance to learn some economic care with your finances! And now, you've just avoided losing hundreds of galleons in the future, just by losing one now!"

There was a moment of quiet, with only Ron's stifled laughter.

"… So, I won't get my galleon back?"

Alexander looked at him, with a hint of disappointment as he tilted his head, like he was considering his next words very carefully. After a moment he shook his head the slightest bit, looked at Harry with pity, then spoke with finality and confidence.

"No."

Then he leaned back, picked up his book again, and utterly dismissed the conversation.

The boys broke out in laughter.

Like before she had come to somehow ruin their fun.

Hermione slipped out the door quietly.

She scowled as she noticed that her shoelace had come untied.

She knelt down to fix it, apparently just out of sight from inside the compartment.

Ron was the first to speak. "What was with her, anyways? Why was she such a bossy show-off?"

Harry spoke then. "I don't know. I mean, she could just be a rude person, couldn't she?"

And then Alexander spoke the last and most bitingly hurtful remark. "Now now, boys, don't assume malicious intent, life is far less fun when you do that. Some people just aren't very likeable, even when they try."

Hermione ran down the corridor then, just as she had complained of others doing, her shoelace be damned.