Harry hurried through the train station toward Platform 9 ¾. He wasn't running late exactly, he still had ten minutes, but he wasn't as early as he would have liked to have been either. Uncle Vernon had never complained about having to drive all the way out to London to drop Harry off, but he hadn't seemed very thrilled about it either. He had certainly taken his time in getting ready to leave that morning, at any rate, even when Harry had been ready barely a half hour past sunrise.  Spotting the signs for Platforms 9 and 10, he trotted over to the barrier between them, only to be beat there by a red-headed family who, if the owl on one of their luggage carts was any indication, were wizards too.  Not wanting to be rude, Harry came up alongside them and resolved to wait until after they had gone through the barrier to make his own way onto the platform.

At least that was his plan, until the red-headed matron turned and spotted him. "Why hello dear," she said, her eyes passing over him, his lack of parents or any other adult, and finally coming to rest on Hedwig in her cage before asking, "First year at Hogwarts?" proving her inductive reasoning to be at least as good as Harry's.

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

"Ron's new too," she said, pointing at the youngest of the four boys. She looked around again, as if she might have somehow overlooked his guardians. "Did you need any help getting on the platform?" she asked kindly.

"No, Professor Snape told me how." Harry had to bite back a laugh at the expressions on their faces. The mother and oldest boy only looked mildly surprised, but the girl regarded him with awe, Ron seemed to be in shock and the twins looked like everything they knew about the world had suddenly come into question.

"Oh... well since this is your first time getting on the platform why don't you watch some of the older boys first, just to make sure you understand it." Harry, who had been planning on doing that anyway, agreed fairly readily and the woman turned her attention back to directing her children through the barrier.

"Hey, mate. I'm Ron, Ron Weasley." Harry started. While he had been watching the oldest boy, Percy, ran straight at the brick barrier and suddenly vanish, Ron had come over to stand next to him.

"Oh, hi. My name's Harry Potter." This simple statement elicited a squeal from the girl and another shocked look from Ron.

"Really? Have you really got the- you know... the scar?"

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!" screeched Mrs. Weasley, who had apparently turned back to their conversation in time to hear the tail-end of it.  "You do not ask people about their scars!"

"But Mum, he's Harry Potter-"

"I don't care who he is, that's no excuse for being rude. Now apologize and march yourself onto the platform."

"Yes Mum," Ron said, sounding more resigned than chastened. "Sorry Harry," he mumbled before making his way onto the platform, all under his mother's watchful eye.

Once Ron had vanished through the barrier, Mrs. Weasley turned to Harry. "It's so good to meet you Harry. I'm Mrs. Weasley and this," she said, gesturing to the girl standing next to her, "is my daughter Ginny." Harry smiled at the girl and her face, which already had a rosy tint to it, flushed bright red, just a few shades paler than her hair. Still she managed what Harry thought was a smile and a mumbled hello, which Harry decided was reasonably impressive, since she looked like she'd like nothing better than to dive behind her mother. Harry wasn't sure what he had done to embarrass her (he was still new to the whole celebrity thing, and couldn't quite wrap his mind around the notion of someone being star-struck by his very presence), but he decided to help her out by addressing his next comment soley to Mrs. Weasley rather than the two of them.

"It's very nice to meet you both," said Harry. He considered sticking out his hand to shake, and if Professor Snape had been there he probably would have, the man was a stickler for proper respect, but in the end he decided not to. Mrs. Weasley just felt too much like... like a mom to shake hands with, and shaking hands with Ginny clearly would have been out even if it didn't seem really weird to shake hands with someone who was younger than him. They didn't seem to mind him skipping over the formality though, or Mrs. Weasley didn't anyway. Ginny's response to his polite comment had been to go even redder, and Harry had given up on trying to figure her out.

"All right then Harry, why don't you go ahead and get on the platform?" Harry hesitated. After all, the Weasley's had gotten here first, so really they should go before him. But, at the same time, Mrs. Weasley didn't strike him as someone to be argued with. "Go on dear, I'm sure Ron is waiting for you, so he can apologize properly for what he said before," Mrs. Weasley said when Harry made no sign of moving. While Harry privately doubted Ron was waiting for him, it was clear Mrs. Weasley wouldn't be happy unless he went through the barrier before her.

Turning himself toward the solid brick that served as the entrance to Platform 9 ¾, Harry found himself faltering once again. It's not that he was afraid; he had just seen the four Weasley boys go through just fine and besides, Professor Snape had told him this was how he was supposed to enter the platform. He was just... concerned.  I mean how could they be sure that the portal would work for him? After all, he had apparently brushed off a super powerful and evil wizard's attempts to kill him when he was a baby, what if that was because magic didn't work right for him? But if that was the case someone would have already figured it out, right? Besides even if it didn't work, walking into a brick wall couldn't hurt that much, could it?

Steeling his resolve Harry began to walk toward the barrier. Only, somehow, that walk became more of a trot, which became more of a jog, which became more of a run, until he was all the sudden sprinting full out with his eyes shut tight. Then, just as Harry was expecting a horrific crash, everything... changed. It wasn't a tangible difference exactly, though the sound of the voices did raise a few octaves and the smell was a little different, more animal scents mixed in with the people. No it was a bit more nebulous, something about the very air around him felt... magical, almost.

"Hey." Harry started and opened his eyes. Apparently Mrs. Weasley had been right about Ron waiting for him after all. "Sorry about before. I didn't really upset you when I asked about the... you know, did I?"

Harry grinned. "No, I've always kind of liked my scar actually." And, just to prove there were no hard feelings Harry pulled back his fringe, giving a clear view of the scar in question.

"Wicked," breathed Ron, his eyes fixed to Harry's forehead. Then, after a moment he seemed to shake it off and looked around almost guiltily. "Mum will be coming through any second and she'll go mental if she catches me staring at your scar." Harry dropped his hand from his hair, agreeing with Ron's assessment. "Hey, after I had a chance to say good-bye to Mum and Ginny do you think- that is would you want to go find a compartment?" Ron asked, managing to sound both hopeful and doubtful.

"Sure thing," agreed Harry, without a trace of hesitation. He had had vague notions about trying to find Draco, but Harry honestly didn't have enough experience to say for sure whether he and the other boy were friends, and he definitely didn't want to end up sitting in a compartment alone, or worse, in one full of people who ignored him. Besides, they could always ask Draco to join them if they ran across him. So, after they both bid Mrs. Weasley farewell (she had insisted on giving Harry a hug too, much to her children's embarrassment), Harry and Ron boarded the scarlet Hogwarts Express and began looking for a free compartment.

"Harry, there you are," said a familiar voice as they were walking down the hall in the train. Harry turned to see Draco standing up and walking to the doorway of the mostly full compartment the other boy had apparently been sitting in. "Cutting it rather close aren't you? I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it," giving Harry a friendly grin, or what passed as a friendly grin from Draco, given the smug air he still managed to convey.

Harry shrugged. "My uncle wasn't really in a rush to leave this morning. By the way Draco, this is Ron Weasley. Ron, this is Draco Malfoy." The two boys looked at each other, neither seeming too pleased. Draco's friendly grin lost the friendly aspect, turning into more of a superior sneer, eyes lingering on Ron's shabby clothing and the bit of dirt Mrs. Weasley hadn't been able to wipe off the red-head's nose. Ron for his part looked like he like nothing better than to continue on down the corridor and completely ignore Draco's existence. Harry frowned. Ron and Draco were the only two friends he had, and he had rather hoped they could all get along.

"Anyways Harry I'm glad you finally made it," said Draco, apparently deciding to just pretend Ron wasn't there. "As you can see the compartment has gotten rather full, but I did manage to save a seat for you."

Harry hesitated. He didn't particularly want to hurt Draco's feelings, but found the idea of joining a compartment full of strangers who all already appeared to be friends with each other was decidedly unappealing. "Well I already promised Ron I'd go find a compartment with him," he finally replied. Strictly speaking he hadn't promised Ron anything, but it was close enough to the truth to count Harry figured. "But you could come join us if you wanted."

"No, I already told them," Draco said, waving his hand to indicate the boys behind them, "that I'd sit with them. But maybe I'll come join you later. Otherwise I'm sure I'll see you once we arrive at Hogwarts."

"Alright," Harry agreed brightly. "See you later then," he called as he and Ron continued down the corridor in search of a place to sit.

"Harry that was Draco Malfoy," Ron hissed as soon as they were (probably) out of earshot.

"I know. I was the one who introduced you to him, remember?"

Ron sputtered for a second before responding. "Well maybe you don't know, but I've heard about his family. My dad said that his dad was a Death Eater," he said, with the air of someone revealing a dramatic bit of information.

"Oh is that what they're called? I knew it couldn't be Nazis, but I didn't know how to find out, since I didn't think Professor Snape would tell me."

"Harry!"

"Sorry. But yeah, I already knew that. Why does it even matter anyway, I want to be friends with Draco, not his dad. And Draco's... nice." Ron snorted, which Harry couldn't really blame him for, given the way Draco had acted around the red-headed boy earlier. "Well he's kind of stuck up, but he is nice too. When he found out I was raised by Muggles he even taught me about Quidditch."

Ron considered this for a moment before asking "How do know he didn't just make a bunch of stuff up and tell you that it was Quidditch," choosing to ignore the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived had been raised by Muggles to focus on sports, proving he had his priorities in order.

"Professor Snape was there so I don't think he'd let Draco lie to me," Harry said, and seeing that the other boy still looked skeptical he continued with, "besides, I bought a copy of Quidditch through the Ages after and everything he told me was the same as what was in there."

There was a lull in the conversation as the two boys helped each other stow their trunks in the empty compartment they managed to find. "I guess if he told you about Quidditch he might be alright then," Ron finally said as they settled into their seats.

"Yeah, he even told me about this one game he went to..." The two boys chatted about Quidditch for a while, Harry contributing information he had learned from his book, while Ron related stories about games he had seen and games he had played with his brothers. Somehow the latter stories morphed into stories about Ron's family and soon Harry was being regaled with detailed descriptions and stories about Ron's five older brothers. He had just started on Ginny, and Harry was wondering how the girl he met in the station could possibly be the same girl in Ron's stories when a smiling witch stuck her head in and asked if they wanted anything from the trolley.

Ron declined, saying his mom had packed him some sandwiches, but Harry, who still had some pocket money left from Diagon Alley (technically he also had money left over from what was supposed to go toward his school supplies, but he was really sure if he was supposed to be using that money for sweets) hopped right up to go buy some. He was back in the compartment within seconds though, insisting Ron come tell him what was good, because he had never even heard of the things she was selling. Even though Ron didn't have money to purchase candy for himself (or at least that's why Harry thought he was passing up sweets for sandwiches), he was more than happy to instruct his new friend on which items from the snack trolley were must haves and which should be skipped. Harry ended up spending most of his remaining pocket money in his excitement, but ended up with a decent sized haul of what Ron insisted was the best the Hogwarts Express had to offer.

Reclaiming their seats, Harry sorted through his pile and began munching on a pumpkin pasty while Ron pulled out his sandwiches. Peering inside one of them, he made a face. "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you two of my pasties for two of your sandwiches," said Harry.

"You don't want this, it's all dry," protested Ron. "Besides you've only got two more pasties, you should have them."

"It's fine, I like corned beef alright anyway. Plus, without you I wouldn't have even known what to get. Here, have a chocolate frog too," Harry replied, shoving the aforementioned food into Ron's lap and nicking two sandwiches before the other boy could protest. Then, to make sure his point was made he took a big bite out of one of the sandwiches. "Hey, this is actually pretty good. Kind of dry, but good."

Ron nodded while opening one of the pasties, "Yeah, Mum's a pretty good cook. A lot of practice, I guess." After that comment the compartment fell mostly quiet as the two boys steadily ate their way through the food, the silence occasionally broken to comment on what card had come with one of the chocolate frogs or for Harry to offer another sweet to Ron. After everything else had been eaten they opened the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and had great fun trying to guess flavors and daring each other the funny colored ones. By the time they got to the bottom of the box neither of them had gotten more than two or three actual candy flavored ones, and there was still a brown one left that both of them refused to touch.

Harry was in the process of trying to convince Ron that the last bean was chocolate flavored (the other boy insisted that the chocolate ones were a different shade of brown) when there was a knock on the compartment door, which then opened to reveal a round-faced boy.

"Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?" he asked, though he sounded as though he rather doubted it.

Harry and Ron shook their heads, causing the boy to wail, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

He left, but the door didn't have time to close before another blonde boy popped through the doorway.

"I thought I'd come join you," Draco said, sitting down next to Harry.

"Hi Draco," Harry replied cheerfully, while Ron attempted a friendly sort of nod. "Hey do you want the last bean?" Harry asked, offering the mostly empty box.

Draco glanced down at the offending sweet and sniffed. "I'm not eating that, it looks like it's dirt-flavored."

Harry sighed. "Yeah that's what we thought too. Oh well, worth a try." An awkward sort of silence descended over the compartment, and Harry cast about for anything he could say. Well, if it worked on Ron... "So Ron apparently saw that game between the Appleby Arrows and the Kenmare Kestrels you were telling me about."

Both the other boys brightened considerably at the topic, and Ron was nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah, did you see that one save? That was amazing!"

"You mean the one-" but whatever Draco was going to say was cut-off when the compartment door opened yet again.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." The toadless boy was back, but this time he was accompanied by a rather bossy looking girl with bushy hair and rather large front teeth.

Draco, who looked positively furious that anyone would dare interrupt him, answered a lot more snidely than really necessary, "No we haven't seen a toad, and why in the world are the two of you parading up and down the train looking for it yourselves? That's just moronic. Go get a Prefect, they could find the toad in an instant and then you don't have to go around bothering people."

"Actually that's not a bad idea," Ron chimed in, "why haven't you done that?" Neville mumbled something about not wanting to be a bother, to which Ron replied "Nah, don't worry about it. Just find my brother Percy and tell him that you were sure a prefect could help you. He'll be thrilled to do whatever you want after that. He's got glasses and red hair like mine."

"Thank you," the girl replied loftily, "I'm glad at least some of the boys here know how to be polite." And with one last scathing look at Draco, she left, dragging Neville in her wake.

The door has barely shut when Ron remarked "Poor Neville." (Really they'd have to work on that whole "out of earshot" thing with him).

"What, because he's lost his toad? That's his own fault; he should keep a better eye on it," Draco replied.

"No, because he's being dragged around by that girl."

Harry and Draco considered this for a moment before nodding in agreement. "She was kind of bossy wasn't she?" Harry commented. The other two boys agreed and then, for a moment the compartment was silent.

"So anyways about that match..."

The boys talked about Quidditch for another fifteen minutes, or rather Ron and Draco talked about Quidditch and Harry, being mostly out of his depth even with the stuff he learned from his book, added an occasional comment in here or there, before the door opened yet again and Neville peeked in, this time thankfully alone.

"Neville, you escaped! You know, from that girl," Ron added when his initial statement just seemed to confuse the boy.

"You mean Hermione? Yeah, I guess..." Neville responded.

"Did you find your toad?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah," Neville said, pulling the toad out of his pocket, "this is Trevor."

"Isn't he just going to get away again if you keep him in your pocket?" asked Ron.

Neville's face fell. "Probably. I'm always losing him."

"Why don't you just put him in a cage and be done with it." Draco said.

Ron looked indignant on Neville's behalf, but Harry, thinking of his trip to the zoo with the Dursley's, exclaimed "That's a great idea, Draco!"

"It is?" Draco asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, Muggles do it all the time. You could get Trevor an aquarium, and fill it with water and rocks and dirt and plants and stuff. That way he can't run away, and he'll probably like it better than sitting in your pocket anyway."

"Well I do now some plants Trevor might like..." Neville began hopefully.

"And we can help you get rocks and dirt and stuff, right guys?" Harry added, looking expectantly at Ron and Draco.

"Sure thing mate," Ron agreed readily.

Draco looked mulish for a second, and then sighed heavily. "Fine, I'll help too."

Harry beamed. He already had Professor Snape looking out for him, and now he had three new friends too. This was going to be one totally awesome year.

XXX

Severus discretely looked over the first years entering the Great Hall, searching for an unruly mop of black hair. He didn't bother trying to fool the rest of the staff, thanks to those three former Gryffindors they were all already convinced that Severus had lined himself up to be Harry's favorite professor, mentor, protector or even father-figure, depending on who was asked (Trelawney, oddly enough, had come up with that last one and Severus had yet to find a way to thank her properly for it). At this point he could stare at his plate for the whole feast and they'd still be convinced he was watching for Harry. The students, however, weren't under the same illusions the staff was, and Severus would like to keep it that way.

There he was, sandwiched between Draco Malfoy and a red-headed boy that was doubtless the latest of the Weasley brood. Which was actually really strange, what were a Weasley and a Malfoy doing together? Forget surviving the Killing Curse, this was all the proof Severus needed that Harry was a miracle worker. Looking Harry over, Severus decided he looked healthy enough, a bit less skinny than he had been when Severus had last seen him a month ago. A little nervous, but that was fairly common for first years. Satisfied, Severus returned his attention to the Sorting Hat, or pretended to anyway. The Hat may have a new song every year, but that doesn't mean they don't get repetitive. And, aside from taking note of which of the new students are coming to Slytherin, he really couldn't care less how they get sorted.

And so Severus idly listened as Millicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe, Tracey Davis, Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson were sorted into Slytherin and a bunch of other student were sorted into the other houses.

And then, it was finally Harry's turn. As soon as his name was called whispers broke out all over the hall and Severus scowled. All this whispering every time someone said his name and it was sure to go to Harry's head sooner or later (he certainly wasn't upset because Harry was uncomfortable with being famous, he just didn't want the boy to get an inflated ego). Harry walked up to the stool and, head completely engulfed in the hat, he sat. And sat. And sat. He was under there for a good thirty to forty seconds, which really wasn't that long relatively speaking and there were certainly students who had taken longer, but this was THE Harry Potter (trademark pending) and the hall was getting restless. Finally the brim of the hat opened up and shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Someone standing outside the Hall might be forgiven for thinking a small explosion had taken place within, given how loud the cheers from the Gryffindor table were. Minerva shot Severus a look that was an interesting mixture of smug and apologetic. Severus distantly noted that Minerva thought he was upset, and maybe he could use that later, but most of his mind was focused on the final paragraph of the last letter Harry had sent him.

I guess this will be the last letter I send you, since by the time my next letter would get to you I'll already be at Hogwarts and I can just talk to you in person. Maybe I'll even be in Slytherin and then you'll be my Head of House. That'd be pretty cool, but if I could be in any house I think I'd like to be in Gryffindor, like my mum. But no matter what house I'm in, you'll still be my Potions Professor, so I'll see you soon.

Harry

The boy himself, now nestled amongst his fellow Gryffindors, was giving Severus an uncertain sort of smile, like Severus might be angry that Harry was trying to emulate Lily, or some such nonsense. Severus nodded slightly, so Harry would stop staring at him like that. But his plan backfired as his nod apparently caused Harry to break out in a smile so large it was surprising his face didn't crack in half, and Severus got an odd warm feeling in his chest. Or at least he did until Filius, who had been watching the whole thing, "coughed." This was going to be one hell of a year.