Chapter 10 - Hogwarts Express

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Harry awoke early on September 1st. Frankly speaking, he hadn't slept very much at all. Today was the day he would leave the Dursley's in order to go to that new place. Hogwarts. He was nervous.

The previous day, his Aunt had insisted on him putting all of the books, his clothes, "and anything you want to take to this stupid school" into the big suitcase that had been locked in Harry's cupboard since he had gotten it on July 31st. He didn't really possess many things, but he had carefully packed his toy-soldiers and a few of his non-freaky books which he had gotten sometimes when his Aunt had decided to make room in Dudley's second bedroom for new toys. Most importantly, though, his teddy and an old blanket (both of which had been his as long as he could remember, though the blanket looked even older than the bear) had been securely stored in the side pocket of the trunk.
Only Hedwig- the owl - was still in Dudley's second bedroom with him. He supposed he would take her with him, though, the Dursley's didn't seem to like her very much and he would be very sad if he had to leave his friend behind.

Aunt Petunia had bought him new clothes, too. Well, they were from the charity shop, so they weren't completely new, but they were much nicer than the hand-me-downs from Dudley he normally got. They even fitted him! The lady's working in the charity shop knew that the Dursley's had to take care for an orphan and didn't receive allowance for him, so Aunt Petunia had been able to buy him clothes every time she wanted during the last few years. Still, when he stayed inside the house he had to wear Dudley's old ones, he was only allowed to wear the better ones when he had to visit Dr Green or had to stay in hospital. Harry thought this was perfectly understandable, since he really didn't need to look nice when no one (except his Aunt, Uncle and cousin) saw him anyway. His Aunt had told him that even clothes from the charity shop cost money, so it was only fair that he had to save the good clothes for special occasions, Harry thought.

Somehow, going to this new place seemed to be a really important occasion though, because apart from clothes Harry had gotten a new toothbrush, toothpaste, a brush and soap all for himself!

He still wasn't really sure what this Hogwarts was, though. On the one hand, his relatives had said that it was a place for freaks. Therefore, he thought, it had to be a place for people like him, who were mad. Being mad meant being a freak, didn't it? But on the other hand, the giant had said that it was a place for young witches and wizard, a school to learn magic. Harry hadn't believed him, of course, but after he had read all of his new books (well, except "One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi") he had to admit that all this magic-stuff might - maybe - be real.
But even if magic actually existed, he wasn't so sure whether he was a wizard. After all, he had never done this "accidentally magic" one of the book's (Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling) talked about. Except for the demon in his head, perhaps... but this was psychotic, nothing magical, wasn't it? Additionally, it was nothing magically about the demon. It wasn't as if he had made strange stuff happen.

But perhaps all of these things - the magic, his mental illness, the demon - were somehow related? Of course, the books didn't mention anything about demons that tried to hurt or kill you but then, it didn't seem to be a subject many people liked to talk about. His Aunt had actually forbidden him to ever mention it when another person (except Dr Green and the staff of the closed ward) was present.
Well, he supposed he would have to wait. He would find out what this Hogwarts-place were soon enough. And if he didn't like it he could come back. Dr Green had promised him. His Aunt had said he would have to stay, but Dr Green was a doctor and therefore he surely knew better than his Aunt, especially about freaky things, didn't he?

His last visit to Dr Green two day's ago had been weird, though. The previous week, his Aunt had just told him not to tell the Doctor anything about the books and what he had read. This week, however, his Aunt had insisted on accompanying him, only because he had accidentally told the Doctor about Trolls (that were mentioned in one of the books) the week before. He assumed Dr Green must have phoned his Aunt, since he hadn't told her anything about his mistake.
Dr Green had appeared to be worried and had talked to Aunt Petunia rather seriously, but at least Harry didn't have to take any more medicine. He hadn't mentioned the Trolls again.

"Are you up?" His aunt was knocking on the door. Oh. It must have been later than he had realized.

"Yes Aunt Petunia!"

"Good. I expect you to be in the kitchen making breakfast in five minutes time."

"All right." Harry hurriedly got up, dressed in a new pair of trousers and a T-Shirt his Aunt had given him the previous evening, went to the bathroom, and, after his ablutions had been taken care of, went down to the kitchen.

Making breakfast was something Harry had done every morning since he had been six, well, except when he had been in hospital or had to stay in his cupboard for one reason or another, so it didn't take him long to prepare eggs, ham, toast and everything else his Uncle and Dudley liked to eat. What surprised him, though, was that his Aunt handed him a plate with some eggs and ham, too, when he was just about to wash up the dishes. Wow. He hadn't gotten ham and eggs for ages! Normally, he only got toast!

"Eat up and leave the dishes. We have to go soon, it will take a while to drive all the way to London."

Leave the dishes?! That was almost unheard of... well, perhaps his Aunt was nice because he would go to Hogwarts today? Perhaps she knew something he didn't... perhaps children at Hogwarts had to do more chores than the Dursley's had made him do and only got little to eat and his Aunt wanted to make sure that he ate plenty now in order to last longer with little food? He couldn't really come up with any other explanation...

"Ok boy, now, here is your medicine. You are to give it to the nurse - I'm sure they'll have a nurse there, but if not, just give it to a teacher - and take it regularly, all right? Dr Green has written a letter and explained what you are to take, what injections you are to receive and all your other stuff. I'm not sure whether they have all the medication in Hog- in the school, but it isn't my business, I have told this freaky giant man that you are ill. But you know what happens if you didn't take the medicine, so make sure they find a way to get it. I won't allow you to stay here during summer breaks without being drugged, do you understand, boy?!"

"Yes Aunt Petunia. I gave the medicine to the nurse or a teacher and take it regularly and I'm not to come back without taking medicine."

"Exactly. Now, go to the car and be quiet!"

Harry did as he was told. He was nervous. Oh, he was really, REALLY nervous. He just hoped he wouldn't be sick. He didn't want to arrive at Hogwarts having a sore behind. Perhaps he shouldn't have eaten quite so fast, but it had been delicious and he hadn't been sure whether Dudley would get the remains of his food if he didn't eat quickly enough.
They reached Kings Cross at 10.30 am. Harry had never before been in the inner city of London and he was amazed (and a little bit frightened) at all the people.

"So, boy," Uncle Vernon had turned around and looked at Harry menacingly. "You WILL behave yourself or you will be very, very sorry. I don't care whether you are hurt or not, but if one of those freaks contacts us because... because you have acted like a lunatic and banged your head against the walls of this freaky school or anything else, than I'll make sure that you will know the real meaning of pain. Have I made myself clear, boy? No more of these stunts like last week!"

"Yes Uncle Vernon. I'm sorry. I make sure to remember it." Harry answered, timidly. He knew what his Uncle was referring to. Just a week ago, the demon had hurt him again. It wasn't this bad, and fortunately Aunt Petunia had said that Dr Green didn't need to know since it was possible that he wouldn't let Harry go to Hogwarts. Harry had been glad, although it was strange that his Aunt didn't want the Doctor to know. Normally, she liked complaining about how difficult Harry was.

"Ok. Then come!" His Uncle was kind enough to unload his trunk from the boot and even got him a trolley. "Ok, boy, now where leaves your train?"

"Uh..." Harry thought about it. The giant hadn't said anything about the actual journey, he had only talked about Hogwarts. But the letter... the letter had said that the train would leave at Kings Cross. But which platform?

"Just look at that damned letter if you didn't know!" His Aunt snapped, "it's in the side pocket, as well as your ticket!"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. His relatives hated it if he was careless. Sure enough, his Uncle started to mutter about freaks who were too stupid to even remember how to go to a freak-school and whether they began with lessons about how to breath and use the toilet... well, he was used to his Uncle and just rummaged through the trunk until he had found the letter. "Ehm... uh, the letter doesn't say anything about the platform... but wait, the ticket... yes, Kings Cross, Platform nine and three-quarters!" Harry read.

"Nine and what?!" His Uncle bellowed.

"Ehm, nine and three-quarters..."

"Stop talking nonsense, boy, there isn't such a platform!"

"Uh, I don't know..."

"Well, just go to the platform 9 and 10 and wait until one of the other freaks shows up. We don't have all day, Dudley has an appointment, you know... hurry up, boy, I'm sure there will be plenty of freaks who go to the same platform. And if not, well, we have done everything we could... so just go!" And with that, the Dursley's re-entered their car and drove away.

###

Harry was terrified. He was in the middle of the biggest town ever, amongst thousands of people and had no clue what to do. He started walking. 'Just pretend everything is all right', he told himself, mentally. Perhaps then everything would be all right?

Pushing the trolley, he searched for platforms 9 and 10. He found them rather quickly, but there wasn't any sign of Platform nine and three-quarters. Asking a guard proved futile and finally he decided it would be the best just to wait whether anything would happen. Perhaps the platform only appeared when the train was due to leave? Or should he do some kind of magic? But he didn't know any magic... 'Just wait', he tried to calm himself, 'something will happen...'

It was now 10.40 am. He still had plenty of time left, hadn't he? There was no need to worry... if he panicked he would only draw attention to himself (more than he already did, with Hedwig and all), and this wouldn't be good. 10. 45 am. Still a quarter of an hour left. He had seen what appeared to be a family who had looked like they could be freaks, too, but he hadn't dared to ask them how to go to the platform. What if they weren't freaks after all and would call the police or an ambulance because they thought Harry was mad? Well, he was mad... but he didn't want to be in more trouble than he was sure he was already in anyway. What was going on? Was he really standing on a train-station in London, trying to go to a strange platform? Or was this only in his head? Perhaps he was in his cupboard, or on the ward... he wasn't sure whether it would be worse if he was indeed on the ward or if all of this - the train-station, the people, the funny platform - was real. It was just too much. He just wanted it all to stop...

"...now, boys, hurry up. The train will leave in ten minutes and we still have to enter platform nine and three-quarters. And no muggle must see us!"

Harry's breath quickened. This, this people - another family as it seemed, since all had the same red hair - they were going to the same platform he wanted to go! He had to look very carefully where they went, then he could just follow them!
It didn't seem to work, though, because one after another the boys just vanished. Desperately, as only the woman, another boy and a girl were left and they seemed to be about to vanish, too, he approached them, despite being wary of speaking to unknown people.

The woman looked at him strangely when he asked her how to go to the platform, but told him nevertheless. Going through a solid wall... oh oh, he wasn't sure whether he should do it. Perhaps the woman was another demon? Sure, he had never been able to see the demon in his head, but the things the woman told him sounded very similar to the things the demon made normally do him... but he couldn't do this in front of crowds of people! He would be in hospital right away and probably not even on the ward where Dr Green worked, since he was far away from Surrey... no no no this couldn't be right!

The woman must have noticed his horror-stricken face since she talked to him very gently. However, there was a terrible noise in Harry's ears so he hardly understood her. 'Oh no, please, I mustn't get crazy now, please no!' He thought, desperately. The girl and the boy that stood beside the woman looked at him curiously.

"I have told Dumbledore he must set someone up to help all the muggle-borns to enter the platform." The woman grumbled, unnoticed by Harry. "Come on, little one, it doesn't hurt and it isn't dangerous in the least! Where are your parents?" The small boy - was he really old enough to attend Hogwarts? He looked smaller than Ginny! - didn't answer. She looked around the crowds of people, but no one seemed to be interested in the boy... perhaps his parents had just dropped him off and had already left? But who would be so cruel to his own child, hell, to any child? She must speak to Dumbledore at any rate... this wasn't good. A muggle family not supporting their son only because he was a wizard? How cruel!

But now wasn't the time to dawdle. The train would leave in less than 10 minutes.

"Now, Ron, Ginny, you go first, I will come with... uh, what's your name? - well, I will come with him right after you, ok? Off you go!" And both of her children did as they were told, despite being curious about the boy that acted so strangely. Perhaps muggles were even funnier than they had imagined? Both of them - Ron and Ginny - had never really met a muggle or even a muggle-born (well, at least not a muggle-born who hadn't already finished Hogwarts). Their parents had told them that muggles weren't really different from wizards except that they couldn't do magic (which had made Ron doubt how muggles could even survive, though), but this boy was really, REALLY strange!

Harry watched, horrified, as the boy and the girl started to ran. They headed directly towards a solid wall and were going faster and faster and surely they were going to hit the wall there was no way they could stop now and... NO! Harry covered his face with his hands.

Molly Weasley looked at the small boy beside her worriedly. This child seemed to be even more afraid than the average eleven-year-old muggle-born. She had met quite a few one's during the last ten years... having seven children made sure of that.

"Come on, little one. It won't hurt a bit! What's your name? Are you excited about going to Hogwarts?" She tried to distract the boy while she was pulling him forward.

Harry felt the woman, who had taken his arm at one point, pulling him forward. His first instinct was to obey and go with her. Usually, obedience was the better option, since adults got there way no matter whether you wanted or not. Oh, he had fought quite a lot, with Dr Green and Aunt Petunia and the teachers and in hospital, but it had been to no avail, and he had stopped doing it years ago. It only resulted in getting punished or tied to the bed or getting more medicine... no, refusing to do what an adult wanted you to do was useless.

But now, this woman was trying to force him to run straight into a wall, to do the very same thing his Aunt and Dr Green had hated him doing, had forbidden him to do. It couldn't be right, could it? Perhaps it was some kind of test? Perhaps they wanted to see whether he was able to resist another demon? He had to fight... he couldn't end up in hospital again, he had to go to this new place, to Hogwarts!
Harry tried to wrench himself free from the grip of the woman. He tore his arm away, he tried to turn around and run, but she - it? - wouldn't let him go!

"No please, please stop it.. no!" He pleaded, as now they had almost reached the wall and the woman gave no sign of slowing down.

Mrs Weasley wasn't a mother of seven children for nothing. She was quite accustomed to one (or two) of the little one's trying to get away from her, and this boy wasn't a challenge, not after the twins! She felt sorry for him, and she really didn't want to frighten him further, but at the same time she thought it would be the best to bring the boy away from the prying eye's of all that muggles. Sure, she had cast a mild notice-me-not charm, but she wasn't sure it would last if the boy actually screamed or ran away, and she didn't dare to do more magic in the midst of Kings Cross.

"I'm really, really sorry, little one, but..." Not really knowing what to say, she just speeded up.

"NO NO NO!"Harry screamed, beyond caring now. This mustn't happened, he had to get away from this mad woman - demon! But she was holding him tightly.

Less than two seconds later, they were standing on platform nine and three-quarters.

"See? No harm done! Now, come on, we just have to find -" Molly broke off when the boy wrenched his arm free with a might she hadn't believed him capable of, started to scream (and although Molly didn't know what a "demon" was, she was quite sure it was some sort of insult, since "bloody" and "fucking" were well-known swear-words in the wizarding world, too) and ran away as fast as the trolley, loaded with his trunk and owl, would allow him to do.

"What are you thinking, boy?! Hey, come back... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." But it was no use, the boy couldn't possibly hear her with all the noise the Hogwarts Express (and various pets and their owner's and the owner's families) made. Feeling annoyed, shocked but also rather guilty, though there wasn't really anything else she could have done, she began to search for her own children.

Harry ran. He just wanted to go away from that woman - demon - that tried to hurt him. He had to fight and run and fight and run and perhaps he would be able to get away... the odds weren't good, he could tell from experience, but he had to try! As soon as he had noticed the grip of the woman loosen, he had torn himself free and tried to get away as fast as possible. He didn't really look where he was running. Vaguely, he was aware that several people had to leap backwards in order to avoid being hit by his trolley, but he didn't care, he just had to go away from that woman!

It wasn't until he almost hit another stone wall that he stopped and looked up, panting. There it was. A sign. A sign saying "platform nine and three quarters". Somehow, miraculously, he had made it! He had found the right platform!

Looking around, he saw many people, many of them looking very funny, being dressed in some kind of dressing gowns. He remembered that he had seen many dressing gowns while packing his suitcase, too. He hadn't questioned it, since it was quite normal only to wear night-clothes and a dressing gown when staying in hospital, but wearing them outside? At a train-station? This was really, really strange!
Deciding that it wasn't important and quite aware of the fact that worrying about things he couldn't change or explain had never done him any good, he turned his attention to the train. It looked quite different to the ones h had seen at the other platforms. Thinking of it, he couldn't see the other platforms any more! They seemed to be gone. Oh no, this... no! He was becoming crazy, mad, no, he didn't want this, NO NO NO!

Just before he could work himself into a fully-fledged panic attack, a guard - well, it seemed to be a guard, though he was dressed differently from the one he had asked for the platform earlier - approached him and, after having asked and not received any response, loaded his trunk into the train. That was when Harry snapped out again - someone was taking his suitcase! -, but his initial alarm that the man was about to steal his possessions vanished when the guard grinned at him, held out his hand and helped Harry to enter the train as well .

In his panic, Harry had run almost to the end of the train, so it was easy to find an empty compartment. He didn't manage to lift his trunk onto the luggage rack, so he settled for pushing it under the seats. He half-hoped that nobody would come into the compartment, but on the other hand... he would have to face all the new people anyway, when they reached Hogwarts at the latest. Perhaps it would be easier to get to know someone before being confronted with all of them?

Harry only hoped these people, while being freaks, too (at least according to Aunt Petunia), weren't that kind of people that used to cut their arms open on a regular basis. After the first girl that he had seen briefly during his first stay on the closed ward, he had met other ones, too. It had scared him. All this blood! He had never understood why the nurses told him not to be hysterical about it and that the things he did to himself were far worse. But he had never done something like this! He had never hurt himself! He couldn't help that this stupid demon was in his head.. he didn't like it!
His thoughts were interrupted when the door slid open.

"Ehm, can I sit here? Everywhere else is full..." A boy asked.

"Yes of course." Harry answered. It wasn't as if he could refuse, was it?

The boy - much taller than Harry, red-haired, his face full of freckles, wearing clothes that seemed to be in an only slightly better condition than Harry's were - sat down opposite him. "Uhm, my name is Ron. Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter." This statement was met with a gasp, a disbelieving look and complete silence for at least a minute, though Harry didn't notice. He had just realized that the train had already started to move and that Kings Cross - the normal part as well as platform nine and three-quarters - were gone. He really was going away from the Dursley's. He really was going to a magical - freakish? - place.

"...uhm, Harry?"

Harry couldn't believe it. He felt dizzy and nervous and just ill. He wanted it to be true - the magic and all the stuff one could make with only waving a wand and saying a few funny words - but at the same time he was afraid that it would indeed be true.

"You... Harry? Are you really Harry Potter?

"Uh, what?" The other boy was talking. Talking to him, apparently!

"I just said, are you really Harry Potter?"

"Uh, yes..."

"Wicked!" The red-head exclaimed, staring at Harry in awe. "And you really have the... the scar?"

Harry froze. Why did the boy knew about his scars? He made sure to cover them all the time, since his relatives hated seeing them. Of course, most of the bigger ones were covered by his hair anyway, but he had a few on his legs and shoulders and ankles, too. He had never been allowed to wear shorts because of them. Well, he didn't have shorts anyway, but it would have been nice just to know that he could wear them. But now this strange boy seemed to know about his scars even so he wore jeans and a jumper! Perhaps he could see through closes? Perhaps the freakishness showed itself in different ways and some people just knew what you were hiding? Oh no, this wasn't good, no, this wasn't good... he couldn't let everybody know about the demon, they would lock him up again if they found out that it was there, and even seemed to become stronger again. Harry didn't know why, but for a few weeks now, the voice became more noticeable again. Just like it had been before the dosage of his medicine had been drastically increased a year and a half ago.

"Yes..." It wasn't any use to deny it, wasn't it? Not if the boy could see anything he wanted to, not if he could read his mind...

"Wow! And do you remember anything? Do you remember how you-know-who looked like? Do you remember how..." Harry zoned out. 'Please be quiet, please be quiet', he thought, not really knowing whether he meant the boy or the demon.

"Eh, you ok?" Ron Weasley asked Harry, whose gaze had become glassy and who had started to rock backwards and forwards. He didn't seem to hear him, though, he just continued rocking and began mumbling something Ron couldn't make out.
This was rather strange. He had always imagined the boy who lived to be self-confident and nice and happy and funny and surrounded by people who looked at him with admiration, being in the centre of everything, getting lots of attention and... well, everything Ron wanted to be himself. But this boy... he was strange. Small and skinny, and he twitched constantly for no apparent reason. Even worse, sometimes he rolled his eyes so that only the white could be seen for a few moments! This was creepy!

And then, when he didn't twitch and didn't roll his eyes, he looked somewhat bored and showed no emotion at all! His face was like a mask, and sometimes Ron wasn't sure whether he was still alive. Well, of course he was alive, he was breathing and all, but his faces was devoid of every feeling, every movement... kind of like an inferius (or what Ron believed an inferius would look like, he had never seen a real one, fortunately). Ron shuddered.

Perhaps the boy who lived wasn't really alive after all? Perhaps it was just his body which was alive, but on the inside, he was dead? Or only a part of him was still alive, the other part dead? Or he had become evil due to the close proximity to you-know-who? Perhaps it would be better to go to another compartment? He had been thrilled when he discovered that he was sitting in the same compartment like Harry Potter, but now he thought that perhaps it wasn't so fantastic...

"Do you have to take medicine, too?" Harry asked the other boy. He was a freak - or a wizard? Was there a difference? - too, after all, so surely he must also take all kind of stupid pills?

"What?!" Ron asked, completely bewildered. What was Harry Potter talking about?

"Um, do you take medicine? You know, because of... well, all this weird stuff?"

"What's medicine?" Ron demanded.

"Uh, medicine... you don't know?" Harry didn't know what to think. Everyone knew what medicine was! "You know, pills and stuff you have to take when you are ill in order to get healthy again."

"Ah, you mean healing potions? Yes, I had to take them lots of times! Everyone does, I think... I had a really bad flu once, and had to take about ten different potions! Or the time when I twisted my ankle, my mother gave me painkiller potions! Medicine, it's a really funny word, though..." Although he thought it had been a rather strange question, Ron was relieved. Apparently, Harry Potter wasn't half-dead or evil after all. Strange, yes, but not... well, he didn't think he had to go and find another compartment.

Harry felt relieved, too. The boy had to take medicine, too (although he called it a really funny name), so he wouldn't be a complete freak at that Hogwarts! Perhaps he would even be able to make friends? This would be... incredible!

"You look really small, are you really eleven years old?" Ron was quite sure his mother would have told him off for being rude, but he had never been the type of person that could restrain himself, even if it had earned him quite a few smacks already.

"Yes... you too?"

"Yeah, first year, too! Though I have brothers - five of them, can you imagine?! - that are at Hogwarts, too. Well, two of them - Bill and Charlie - have already left, but there are Percy and Fred' n' George - twins, you know, third-years. They are all Gryffindors... hope I'll end up being Gryffindor, too. Don't know what mum and dad will say if I wouldn't... imagine, being a slimy Slytherin!"

Harry thought about it. He had already heard those names, but he couldn't remember where. Perhaps he had read them in one of his book's? Or... YES, the giant - Haggi? Haggit? Hagrid! - had talked about those. Houses, he had said. Gryffindor and Slytherin, yes, they were some sort of wards, well, similar to wards at least... but there had been others, too, hadn't there? Raven... there had been something with a raven. Harry liked birds - they were free - and he was sure Hagrid hat mentioned a house that was named after a raven. "Uh, what are the other wards?"

"Wards? You mean houses, doesn't you? But, surely you know? Everyone knows!"

"Uh, no, well, I have lived with my relatives and they have never talked about it... about nothing, really, they don't like all this weird stuff... magic"

"Weird stuff? You mean you you have lived with muggles?" Ron was appalled. The boy-who-lived had lived with muggles? "People who don't have magic", he explained, having seen Harry's confused expression.

"Uh, yes... they don't really know anything about it, I think... you see, my parents are dead, and I didn't really have anybody else..." Harry was afraid the other boy would think less of him for not having a proper family.

"Of course your parents are dead, everybody knows! But nobody knew that you lived with muggles all the time! Well, I don't think it matters anyway, but... you know nothing? About Hogwarts, about magic, about the houses? You must know about Gryffindor, your parents were both Gryffindors! And Slytherin, everyone who followed you-know-who was in Slytherin!"

"But there are other wa- houses, too, aren't there?"

"Yes, of course, there are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Gryffindor is the best, though. All good people go to Gryffindor. Well, I think Ravenclaw's are all right, too, but they are all studious and swotty, only ever read... they say that all the losers go to Hufflepuff, I wouldn't want to go there. But better Hufflepuff than Slytherin! Slytherin, that are evil people... don't think anyone who was a Slytherin fought against you-know-who! You have to be careful about them - might try to hex you or worse, you being the boy-who-lived and all- yes, Slytherins are creepy and slimy snakes that start trouble every time! And Gryffindors have to fight against Slytherins in order to prevent them from getting power and causing even more trouble and hurting or even killing all good people! You can't trust a Slytherin not to cause trouble - Professor Snape is their head of house, and he is the worst of them! Always docks point from Gryffindors because they try to save the world from that evil snakes - Fred 'n George have told me everything about him! Yes, if I would end up being a Slytherin, I would go back home right away! No way, you wouldn't survive 10 minutes with those people!"

While Ron continued to rant about evil Slytherins, Harry thought. He remembered Hagrid telling him similar things... Gryffindor was the house for the good people while all bad ones ended up in Slytherin. He didn't think he would be a Ravenclaw, he was too stupid, after all, he hadn't gone to school for almost a year, only read on his own... perhaps he would be a Hufflepuff...? He surely was a looser, the Dursley's had told him often enough. He would like to be a Gryffindor, they seemed to be some kind of heroes, but he couldn't hope being one of them, could he? And if he was put into Slytherin everyone would hate him. Ron and Hagrid and probably everybody else who was nice because it was the house only evil people were put in, and the Slytherins themselves... well, to Harry it sounded as if they were some kind of monsters.

Harry sighed. It would be much easier if there was only one house. Why did they split children up like this? To ensure that the good ones weren't threatened by the evils? To make sure that the dump ones didn't prevent the intelligent ones from learning? "Uh, who decides in which house you are put?"

"Well, it's a secret, isn't it? No first year knows, kind of a surprise I think... though Fred n' George have told me that you have to fight a troll... but don't know whether this is true...they can't just let a troll into the castle, can't they?" Though Ron tried to pretend as if it didn't really matter and fighting a troll wouldn't be a bother at all, his voice was definitely higher than it had been before.

Around noon, a lady that sold all kind of sweets came to their compartment. Harry had never gotten many sweets, and his eyes grew big as saucers when he saw all the stuff on the trolley. He knew he had money - Hagrid had told him that he didn't need to worry about money when he asked him how he was supposed to pay for all his books and the wand - so he spent the next fifteen minutes choosing a wide variety of funny candies. There was no one around who forbade him to ate as much chocolate and lollies and toffees as he wanted to, and Harry was determined to make use of this new-found freedom.

Later, when he and Ron (who had looked a little bit jealous at all the sweets Harry had bought, so that Harry had offered him some - it turned out that Ron was quite hungry, though, and since he didn't like corned beef, Harry hadn't had the heart to refuse him eating more.) had eaten about half of the sweets, another boy - well, three boys, but two of them didn't speak at all and, if you believed Ron (who was very knowledgeable about everything freakish, Harry thought), were more troll than human - showed up.

After they had thrown a few insults, mostly concerning Ron's lack of money and Harry's lack of knowledge, at each other, the other boys left again. Ron spent the next half an hour enlightening Harry about the Malfoy-family and their ties to Slytherin, you-know-who and other muggle-haters. In the end, Harry was thoroughly convinced that it would not have been good to take the hand the blond boy had offered (he had been about to shake it, he had manners, after all, but thankfully Ron had snatched his hand before Harry could make contact with the evil snake) and was extremely grateful for Ron's presence. He would be completely be lost without the red-headed boy.

Apart from a bushy-haired girl that tried to recruit Ron and Harry for a search party in order to find a missing toad, nothing extraordinary happened during the rest of their journey.

When the train started to slow down both boys looked slightly green. An ominous sign, as Ron pointed out, considering that they had to fight against becoming evil slimy snakes in only a few moments.