The rest of the summer nearly flew by for Harry Potter. His relatives pretty much left him alone, except for giving him food and chores; obviously Uncle Vernon knew better than to push his boundaries or knock him around now that he thought that the "freaks" were watching. So the rest of the time, Harry stayed in his room, keeping very quiet and spending most of his time reading and talking to Jewel, who had a wicked sense of humor and and an interesting worldview.

At last, September first arrived, and Harry managed to get Uncle Vernon to drive him to King's Cross ("Only because we need to take Dudders to the Clinic") and he wandered about the station, looking for Platform 9 3/4.

It was only once he had been dropped off that he realized that Hagrid had not told him where to board the the train. He was afraid to ask any of the muggle security guards where said platform 9 3/4 was, and none of them knew of a train that departed at eleven O'clock. At last, when he was starting to wonder whether he had been given the wrong date, or the wrong place, or something, when he felt Jewel readjust herself on his arm.

^Thossse no-ssscaless ssmell like magic,^ she commented. ^Isss that what you're looking for?^

Harry started, looking up to see a group of red-heads by the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. It was obvious from their mismatched muggle clothes and the owl that one of them was carrying that they were Wizarding, and Harry smiled. ^Yess,^ he said, slowly approaching them. ^Thanksss, Jewel^

Jewel's sensitive tongue flickered out to caress his hand as he carefully adjusted his cuff to conceal her- after the letter he had read and the reaction of the shopkeeper when he'd asked Jewel what kind of carrier she wanted, he sensed that it would probably not be a good thing for others to know he had her...even more so because she was a magical karait and her bite was highly toxic.

Harry hesitated.

^Well, go on,^ Jewel told him. ^They do not look venomousss.^

Harry snickered and then approached. "Excuse me?"

One of the wizards, a motherly-looking witch with frizzy red hair and a kindly expression turned around, allowing one of her children to wiggle away before her hankerchief could expunge the smudge on his nose. "Hello, dear. Hogwarts, then?"

"Yes," Harry responded politely. "Um...how do you get to the platform?"

"Oh, the wall between nine and ten is an illusion; all you have to do is walk through- best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous."

Harry smiled. "Thank you."

"No problem, dear- Fred! get back here!"

"It's George, mum!" the boy addressed protested, coming back nevertheless, accompanied by what looked to be his twin."I- who's this?"

"I'm Harry," Harry told him politely, already liking them.

"Harry, as in Harry Potter?" they both chorused.

Harry blushed and then face-palmed. "Um. Yes. Don't get all weird, will you?"

"But we are weird, my dear Potter!"

"Weirdness is our business, my dear Potter!"

Even their mother laughed.

Then one of the boys called "Scabbers!" evidently looking around for a pet, and Harry took the opportunity to slip through the barrier, a little overwhelmed. Jewel gave a series of giggly little hisses at his discomfort. Behind him, he could still hear the Wizarding mother talking to her children- "Now, you two – this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've – you've blown up a toilet or –"

And said children's responses: "Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mum."

Harry laughed as he lugged his trunk on board.

In no time at all, he had found an empty compartment, where he put his trunk under the seat and sat back with his potions book, relaxing and making the occasional comment to Jewel, figuring that he'd rather see if anyone would like to join him than try to find a compartment of people who would let him join them. Not that he really expected anyone to come; after all, he had seen plenty of compartments on his way, and most of them were empty or nearly so.

It was not long, however, before he was proven wrong, as the door creaked open and a round-faced, rather shy-looking boy already in Hogwarts uniform stepped in the compartment. He looked as though he was about to put his bag down when he saw Harry.

"S-sorry, I didn't see you," he said, looking mortified. "I- can I sit here?"

Harry smiled disarmingly. "Sure, if you want to. I was looking forward to having some company."

The relief on the boy's face was palpable. He stood there another moment then heaved his trunk into the compartment, and Harry helped him stow it under another seat. After that, the two of them sat down again and Harry pulled his potions book out again, although he was more interested at looking at the other boy than at the book. Harry spoke first.

"So, what's your name?"

The boy glanced up at him, as if in surprise that he was being addressed. "Neville," he said finally. "My name's Neville Longbottom."

Harry blinked- where had he heard that name before? He might have spent more time thinking about it, but he knew this wasn't the time, so he shoved it to the back of his mind to ponder later. "Mine's Harry," he replied at last.

The other boy's eyes flicked to his scar- then he blushed and lowered his gaze. A silence fell; Harry was tempted to go back to his book, but he forced himself not to. He could read a book anytime, after all. "So what house are you hoping to get into?" he asked finally, genuinely wondering what the reply would be. He sort of wanted to be in Slytherin, himself, considering he could talk to snakes, but he knew that was considered 'the bad house' so he had resolved to try to get into Gryffindor or Hufflepuff so he could be under the radar for as long as possible. That is if he had a choice.

"Gryffindor," Neville said immediately. "My parents were in Gryffindor." A pause. "I'll probably be in Hufflepuff though."

Harry wondered how much to say. Would Nevile judge him for wanting to be in Slytherin? "There's nothing wrong with being in Hufflepuff," Harry found himself saying. "I mean, I would rather be in Hufflepuff than Gryffindor- I'd probably make more friends. But if you want to be in Gryffindor you probably will be; I think you can at least have a say."

"I hope so."

They lapsed into silence again.

"So which class are you looking forward to the most?" Harry asked, when the silence was threatening to become awkward.

"Herbology," Neville said without missing a beat. "I love plants. Astronomy sounds good, too, but I have a horrible memory. What about you?"

"Potions," Harry responded. "Potions sounds amazing. I mean, I'm looking forward to everything, though."

"P-Potions?" Neville sounded almost alarmed.

"Yeah, why?"

"I...you've heard about the Potions teacher?"

"What about the Potions teacher?"

"He's...really strict. I mean really. I've heard that he hates everyone who isn't a Slytherin." Neville shivered involuntarily. "I don't know if it's true, though..."

Harry didn't like the sound of that. He couldn't be a Slytherin, not unless he wanted to have more trouble than just Voldemort. But how could he learn potions if the teacher hated anyone who wasn't Slytherin? A shiver he couldn't quite understand ran down his spine as he fumbled in his bag for a bookmark, (as it was likely that he wasn't going to go on reading). Harry didn't know what to say, but luckily he was saved from having to respond by the trolley witch, who took that moment to knock on the compartment door.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Harry glanced at Neville. "What do you think is good?"

Nevile blushed. "Uh, chocolate frogs are good. So are licorice wands. Uh, don't get Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans, though; when they say every flavor, they mean it."

Harry grinned at him and bought a few of everything- except Every-Flavor Beans. "You want some?"

Neville shyly took a frog and tore it open. Harry did too, and was promptly surprised by the card that the package contained, especially since it moved. Neville wasn't quite so excited when he asked him about them. "They're collectible cards; Gran never liked me collecting them; said they were a waste of time. I did for a while though..."

Harry, who had been inspecting a picture of the enchanteress Morgana LeFay, looked up. It was a fascinating card, but he had to agree with Neville's Gran...although it would be nice to have nothing more important to worry about than which chocolate frog cards were missing from his collection.

They ate sweets and talked about ordinary things for some time; Harry discovered that Neville was very clumsy, had a pet frog which he called Trevor around his gran and Augustus in private, and really hated Pepper Imps. Neville discovered that Harry had been raised muggle and that he was really looking forward to flying.

And that was when the door flew open. It was the boy he had met at Madame Malkins, accompanied by two other boys who reminded him of the pictures of trolls in storybooks. Harry had a brief, painful flashback of "Harry Hunting".

"They've been saying Harry Potter's on the train," he said without preamble. "Are you him?"

Harry didn't like the way he said that, nor did he like the look of his thugs. "And what if I am?"

"Why are you over here sitting with a squib when you have an in with the right sort?"

Harry didn't know what a squib was, but he could guess it was not complementary, given the look on Neville's crimson face. And he was angry.

"I Think I can tell the right sort for myself, thank you." Harry told him angrily. "And please go back to your compartment."

The blond boy paled until his already admittedly pale face was as white as his hair. "And what if we don't? We ran out of candy in our compartment, and you seem to have some..."He nodded at his thugs, who each took a handful of the remaining confections.

Harry's eyes narrowed and Neville spluttered angrily, drawing his wand, which emitted a crimson spark. The boy smirked. "Ooo, the little squib is angry," he said, sounding (if he'd only known it) very much like his aunt Bellatrix.

It was at that moment that Jewel poked her tongue out of Harry's sleeve, smelling. ^Harry, whatsss going on?^ she asked. ^Who are these no-sscalesss?^

^I don't know, but they sstole my and Neville'sss prey.^ Harry told her quietly, masking the parceltongue with a sneeze and making sure Jewel was concealed.

Jewel hissed furiously. ^They dare to sssteal your prey?^ she spat, venom dribbling out of the corner of her mouth. ^Tell them to get out or I will bite them! Miserable no-sscalesss trying to take what they haven't hunted!^

^I have to keep you sssecret, you know,^ Harry told her under his breath. Then to the boy and his thugs: "Get out. Now. Just because I can't use magic on the train doesn't mean I can't call a prefect or punch you in the nose."

"Are you threatening me?"

"If you would just let us alone I wouldn't have to," Harry said practically. "Seriously, guys, what is your problem?"

The boy didn't seem to know how to respond to that. After a minute, he beckoned to his thugs. "C'mon, they're not worth our time." And then they were gone.

As soon as they were gone, Jewel poked her head all the way out of his sleeve. ^Oh, good, Chunky, Ugly, and Ssslippery are gone! Did they take any more prey?^

Harry burst out laughing. ^No. Nicess namess, by the way.^

^It sssuitss them,^ was Jewel's response. And it was only then that Harry realized that Neville was staring at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

Harry didn't know what to do. Neville had seen him talking to Jewel, and now it was out. Maybe it wasn't! Maybe Neville didn't know it was supposed to be evil and he was just surprised! But somehow, Harry doubted that. This was stupid. There was no way he could keep his ability quiet any longer, and now everyone would probably think he had gone evil. And Dumbledore would probably take Jewel away.

"Y-you're a parselmouth?" asked Neville, looking terrified at the very thought.

Harry didn't know what to say- that seemed to happen frequently to him. "Um...yeah."

Neville continued staring at him.

"Please don't tell anyone," Harry continued when Neville still said nothing. "I mean, Jewel's really nice- she won't hurt anyone unless they hurt her..."

"Jewel?" said Neville cautiously.

Harry was encouraged. "Yeah, her name is Jewel."

Jewel waved her tail. ^Hi no-sscale,^ she said ^Pleasssed to meet you.^

Harry grinned. "She says pleased to meet you," he translated, choosing to leave out the no-scale part. Neville might not think it was nice, even if it was just the parseltongue for "human", or more broadly, "anything that wasn't a bird or reptile".

"Uh, pleased to meet you too," Neville said, watching Jewel as she crawled out of Harry's sleeve and into his lap, hissing contentedly. Harry translated, although it was probably not necessary, as he had been attempting to teach the snake to understand English all summer.

"So, uh, why do you have a snake?" Neville asked, after his shock seemed to have worn off.

"I went to the pet store in Diagon Alley, and she begged me to 'get me out of this miserable enclosed space' so I did. Uh, please tell me you don't think being a parselmouth means I'm gonna go dark?"

"I- it's just...odd, you know, you just hiss and it's a little creepy. But I don't think you're evil- I really don't."

Harry absentmindedly began to stroke Jewel's head. "Sorry, it sounds like English to me."

"Actual English? As in, it sounds like they're really talking?"

^Of course we really talk, no-ssscale; what did you think we did- babble?^ Jewel said scathingly. Harry covered his laugh with a cough.

"I wish more people were parselmouths," Harry said contemplatively, not really looking for an answer. "I mean, it's not like I'm evil or even that I'm headed for Slytherin- I'm just bilingual. But the Wizarding world doesn't see it that way." He paused. He'd managed to owl-order a book on the history of parselmouths earlier that summer, and what he'd learned had been frankly astonishing. "You know that it's only Voldie and a few other British parselmouths are bad, right?"

"W-what?"

"Yeah, in Ancient Egypt and India and Sumeria they were honored because there are whole branches of Healing and Curse-breaking that are only available if you're a parselmouth- same with Alchemy."

Neville looked a little impressed, and Harry was confident that he hadn't lost him. It would be nice to have a friend.

The train rattled on for another few hours, and Harry and Neville truly got to know each other over Wizarding candies, trading knowledge of their separate worlds, while Jewel made the occational comment when she felt there was something she needed to say, and Harry translated. It was during the final hour before the train would pull up (and after they had changed into his school uniforms) when Harry finally decided to ask Neville something that had really been bothering him.

"I...will you...do you want to be friends?"

For a painful moment, Neville said nothing, and Harry nearly panicked. Then he grinned. "Y-yes," he said, smiling shyly. "If you want."

Harry had never grinned wider.

But now the train was slowing down, and Harry and Neville were pulling on their student robes and adjusting each others' ties, while Jewel sat on the seat and looked on with black eyes like onyx beads and hissed. At last, after they had dressed in their uniforms and stuffed the last few Wizarding candies into their pockets, the train ground to a halt in Hogsmeade, and the wizards and witches clambered out, and were led by Hagrid to the shore of the Black Lake, where they piled into the little boats, three and four to a boat. Harry was with Neville, the red-haired boy from the King's Cross, and a pretty Indian girl with a shy smile; Harry learned that the other boy was Ron, and the girl was Parvati.

Then they were approaching Hogwarts, and Harry got his first glimpse of the school.

It was beautiful. With illuminated windows, soaring towers, and flapping pennants, it seemed like a castle out of a fairy tale, and Harry dared to dream that there would be a happy ever after. That Dumbledore would not interfere. That Voldemort would die. That Severus Snape was still alive out there somewhere, and that the man would want his son. That he could have seven long years at Hogwarts, playing Quiddich, doing homework, and having fun. Then the boat he was in passed through the veil of ivy that hid the boathouse, and Jewel squeezed his arm almost painfully under his robes.

And they were clambering up the slippery, narrow pathway, and from thence to the great doors of Hogwarts. Hagrid banged on the heavy oak until the great portals swung open, revealing the figure of a tall, stern older woman, with black hair tucked into a tight bun and a constraining green silk dress.

"I'll take it from here, Hagrid," she said, conducting the children inside, where she led them through the halls to an anti-chamber just outside what a frizzy haired, talkative girl was saying was the Great Hall. Then she left them, and the children stood in a hushed and tense silence, broken at intervals with quiet chattering, waiting for her to return.

Then the ghosts appeared. Harry was actually rather fascinated by the shimmering entities, although some of the girls seemed scared. But then they were sliding through the wall again, and the Professor, who now introduced herself as Mcgonagall, had returned, so Harry turned his attention quickly to her, as she explained what Harry had already learned from Hogwarts, a History, just a little bit about the houses of Hogwarts.

Then she led the chattering group into the Great Hall, and they fell silent again as they were faced with all the other years, who had evidently already been there for some time. (Well, mostly silent; several of the first-year students were speculating intensely about what the sorting might include).

Everyone stared at them, and Harry shrunk within himself, tense with all the eyes fixed on them, and specifically him. Professor Mcgonagall then brought out a battered, dirty olive green hat, and laid it on a stool. Harry frowned, studying it intently, as everyone else seemed to be doing. What was that?

Then the hat twitched, a rip in its brim opened, it seemed to clear its throat, and it began to sing.

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"*

Everyone started clapping, and Harry blinked a few times before rolling his eyes, looking, had anyone been watching him at the moment, nearly exactly like his father. Of course. It was a magical school- it would have an eccentric talking hat to sort the students into houses. Quickly, however, he schooled his face back to awe, like most of the rest of the first years, and he listened politely, if a little absently, as Mcgonagall told the herd of firsties that they would all put on the hat to be sorted. (As if Harry had not figured that one out by that time.) Then all the first years were going up, one by one, to try on the hat and see which house fit them. Harry hoped that the hat, if, as it seemed, it was somehow sentient, would listen to entreaties. He slowly watched as each student walked up to the stool and put on the hat, trying to distract himself from his nervousness by looking at each student as they walked up and trying to figure out which house they were going to be in.

"Goyle, Gregory...Granger, Hermione...Greengrass, Daphne...Hopkins, Wayne..."

Harry was beginning to grow nervous. What if he was put in Slytherin? Not that he didn't want to, but he didn't want to deal with more backlash when he'd only discovered he was a wizard this year. But if his father was alive...would he be proud of him if he got into any house besides Slytherin? Or was it already settled; was he going to have to be in Slytherin because he was a parselmouth?

"Li, Su...Longbottom, Neville...MacDougal, Morag...MacMillen, Ernie...Malfoy, Draco...Moon, Lilian...Nott, Theodore...Parkinson, Pansy,"

He knew he would not want to go to Ravenclaw...should he try for Hufflepuff, or just suck it up and go to Gryffindor? The Gryffindors looked far to rowdy, on the whole...

"Padma, Patil...Parvati Patil..."

It would not be long.

"...Perkins, Sally Anne..."

And then, at long last, "Harry Potter!"