Chapter Text
“I’m going first,” Harry heard a boy say pompously, “I don’t want to be sitting near you all the way to Hogwarts.” He looked around for the source, and saw the same white-haired boy he’d met in Madam Malkin’s. He was with three other people: two adults who were clearly his parents – as they both had sheer white hair, albeit much longer – and a boy the same age, who had black hair like Harry’s, though clearly more well-groomed than his own.
This boy was who the blond-haired one was talking to. They clearly didn’t get along, despite being what looked like family. Harry couldn’t shake the fact that the boy stood out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of them.
He turned his trolley around and started to follow them, and it was to his shock he saw the pale blond boy disappear through a wall! He shook his head as if to rid himself of what had to be a hallucination – but no, the parents followed, walking right through what definitely looked like a brick wall.
“You look nervous. First time there too?”
Harry jumped. The dark haired boy was talking to him. He nodded dumbly. “Could you tell me how to… to-”
“How to get onto the platform? It’s really easy. You just walk straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten. We can go together if you like.”
Harry gulped. What if this was all an elaborate joke set up by the Dursleys? What if he would just slam straight into it, and they’d all jump out laughing? Then again… He’d seen the other boy in Diagon Alley, a place Hagrid said muggles just could not find – but he was still worried.
“You first,” He said. If they were both running for the wall at the same time, either they’d both crash or they’d both get through. It was the only thing Harry could think of to ruin any prank from the Dursleys – force their actors to get injured, too.
After all, crashing into another person had to be a right sight better than going head first into solid brick.
The other boy nodded, and held out his hand for Harry to shake. “I’m Romulus, by the way. Romulus Lestrange.”
“Harry Potter,” he responded, taking the boy’s hand and giving it a firm shake. Romulus seemed to hesitate for a moment.
“I've heard all about you,” he said. “My uncle told me what you did, defeating... You-Know-Who.”
Harry shrugged. “I don't remember anything,” he admitted, flattening his fringe without thinking about it. “I never knew, until recently, that I was even a wizard.”
Romulus nodded slowly in understanding, then gestured to the pillar. “Shall we?”
They then both wheeled their trolleys around to face the wall, and Romulus started to push forward, gathering speed so that he was sort of jogging towards it. Harry followed suit and closed his eyes, ready for the head-splitting pain of hitting the wall, ready to crash head-first over Romulus – but it never came.
He felt like he’d walked through slow-moving warm water, and the smell of steam from an engine reached him, and he stopped in his tracks but didn’t dare open his eyes, just in case…
“Come on, we can find a carriage together!” Romulus said, giving Harry a gentle pat on the shoulder. He opened his eyes.
A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the brick wall had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it.
Romulus started to push his way through the crowd, avoiding the two tall, blonde heads that bobbed around in it. Harry followed and, when they had gotten nearly to the end of the train, they started trying to heave their trunks inside it.
It was then Harry noticed that this boy had an owl, too, though his was a dark brown screech owl. It was hooting indignantly, annoyed at having been set down on the floor of the platform while the two boys were ignoring it. Hedwig was caged next to it, standing still and straight as if to show it what a good owl should do.
“Oh, shut up, Belren, it’s only for a minute!” Romulus sighed, trying to pull his trunk up into the carriage. Harry, meanwhile, was trying to push his onto the carriage from the bottom, and both were clearly struggling quite badly.
“Want a hand?” It was a pair of red-headed twins Harry had passed in the station earlier, who’d been with a plump ginger woman, two other brothers and a younger sister, too.
“Yes please,” Harry panted.
With the twins’ help, Romulus and Harry’s trunks were at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.
“Thanks,” Harry said, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Romulus had already sat down inside the carriage.
“What’s that?” One of the twins said suddenly, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.
“Blimey,” said the other twin, “Are you–?”
“He is,” said the first twin, “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry.
“What?” said Harry.
“Harry Potter,” chorused the twins.
“Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.”
They disappeared back into the crowd, grinning to themselves, and Harry could hear them telling their plump mother all about how they just helped him onto the train.
He sat down between Romulus and the window, and absent-mindedly flattened his hair, hiding his scar.
“Everyone’s going to react like that, aren’t they?” He asked out loud, staring out of the window. In the corner of his eye, he could see Romulus nodding.
“I’m sure you’ll learn to deal with it. And besides, it’ll die down once you’ve been around a while.”
Harry secretly hoped he was right. Eleven years without the slightest bit of positive attention, all this ‘being famous’ stuff was making him feel a bit queasy.
~*~
When the train started moving five minutes later, the hubbub in the corridors and other carriages only got louder, coinciding with Harry’s excitement that he was finally on his way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in. “Anyone sitting there?” he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. “Everywhere else is full.”
Harry and Romulus both shook their heads. “Just us,” Romulus said.
The boy glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn’t looked.
“Are you really Harry Potter?” He blurted out. Harry nodded.
“Oh – well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes.” He said. “And have you really got – you know…” He pointed at Harry’s forehead.
Harry pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar. The boy stared.
“So that’s where You-Know-Who –?”
“Yes,” said Harry, “but I can’t remember it.”
“Blimey…” the boy gulped. “Oh, I’m Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley.” He looked to Romulus. “I never knew Harry Potter had a brother.”
Harry and Romulus looked at each other, and then looked at Ron.
“What?” Harry said.
“We’re not –” Romulus started.
“– Don’t have any brothers.” Harry finished.
Ron raised his eyebrows. “Sorry, you just look so similar…” He trailed off, embarrassed at his mistake.
Romulus and Harry looked at each other again, this time trying to determine their similarities. Harry supposed they did have the same colour hair, and it seemed their faces were the same shape – and their eyes! Harry noticed with a jolt that Romulus’ eyes were the same shade of emerald green as his own.
They looked away from each other.
“I’m pretty certain Romulus isn’t my brother. If he was, I might have had a nicer time growing up,” Harry smiled at Ron. Romulus nodded in agreement.
“Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t have an awful upbringing – but the Malfoys don’t express their emotions all too often. If my aunt and uncle liked me, they never showed it.”
Harry and Ron spoke at the same time:
“You were raised by the Malfoys?” said Ron.
“You were raised by your aunt and uncle too?” said Harry.
Romulus nodded at Harry, then looked at Ron.
“But the Malfoys,” Ron continued, “They’ve got a right reputation. My dad reckons they were in You-Know-Who’s inner circle! Not that he could ever prove it… But they’re dark wizards, the Malfoys.”
Romulus just nodded. “My mother is my aunt’s sister. Her and my dad are in prison. They followed him too.” He sounded almost disgusted by this fact.
“What’s your last name then?” Ron asked curiously.
“Lestrange.”
There was a pause. Ron seemed gob-smacked, while Harry didn’t know the significance of this revelation.
“But…” Ron started. “But you…”
“But I what?” Romulus asked defensively, sitting up a little straighter.
“Well,” Ron muttered. “You seem alright…”
Romulus sat back again. There was more silence.
“I’ve never agreed with anything my family believe in.” He stated, as if to set the record straight. “Blood purity,” he spat. “What a load of old bol–”
“Anything from the trolley, dears?”
A short and stocky old witch was stood in the doorway, one hand on a trolley piled with food and drinks.
Harry, who hadn’t had any breakfast, jumped to his feet, but Ron’s ears went pink and he muttered that he’d brought sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor.
He had never had any money for sweets with the Dursleys, and now that he had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry – but the woman didn’t have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.
Romulus got himself a pumpkin pasty, a liquorice wand, and a glass bottle of pumpkin juice.
Ron stared as Harry brought it all back into the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.
“Hungry, are you?”
“Starving,” Said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches in there. He pulled one of them apart and said, “She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.”
“Swap you for one of these,” said Harry, holding up a pasty. “Go on –”
“You don’t want this, it’s all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.”
“Go on, have a pasty,” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron and Romulus, eating their way through all Harry’s pasties and cakes (the sandwiches lay forgotten).
The rat had climbed out of Ron’s pocket, and was now nibbling on a corner of pastry that had fallen into his lap.
“This is Scabbers,” he said, looking down at the feeble rodent, who had just fallen asleep with pastry sticking out of his mouth. “He might have died and you wouldn’t know the difference,” Said Ron in disgust. “I tried to turn him yellow yesterday – you know, to make him a bit more interesting – but the spell didn’t work. I’ll show you, look…”
He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places, and something white was glimmering at the end.
“Unicorn hair’s nearly poking out. Anyway –”
He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. A girl stood there, already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.
“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” She said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth.
The three boys shook their heads. “We haven’t seen one,” Ron said, but the girl wasn’t listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.
“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.”
She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.
“Er – all right.” He cleared his throat.
“Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow; turn this stupid fat rat yellow.”
He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed grey and fast asleep.
“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” said the girl. “Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was all such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the best school for witchcraft there is, I’ve heard – I’ve learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?” She said all this very fast.
Harry looked at Ron and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn’t learnt all the set books off by heart either.
“I’m Ron Weasley.”
“Romulus Lestrange.”
“Harry Potter.”
“Are you really?” Said Hermione. “I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”
“Am I?” said Harry, feeling dazed.
“Goodness, didn’t you know? I’d have found out everything I could if it was me,” said Hermione. “Do any of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad… Anyway, I’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.” She turned on her heel and left.
The three boys stared after her, wondering how it was possible for her to talk so quickly without losing breath, before looking around at each other.
“What house are you hoping for?” Romulus asked, looking at Ron.
“Not hers,” he laughed. “But all my brothers are in Gryffindor, mum and dad too. I don’t know what they’ll say if I’m not in it. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.”
“That’s the house Vol– I mean, You-Know-Who was in?” asked Harry.
Romulus and Ron both nodded. The latter flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.
“My whole family’s been in Slytherin,” Romulus said defensively. “My aunt, uncle, mother, father – everyone.” Ron looked a little ashamed again. “Narcissa told me that my mother would be very disappointed if I weren’t in Slytherin,” he continued, then paused. “I don’t want my mother to be disappointed – but I also don’t want to turn out evil,” he admitted.
Harry looked at him for a moment. “Well,” he started, “No matter what house you’re in, I’ll still be your friend,” he nodded, “– If you want to be my friend, that is…” He was relieved that Romulus then nodded, too.
They both looked at Ron, who seemed hesitant about this, but he thought it over for a few moments. “We’ll keep you on the right track,” he finally said, and the three of them now shared more sweets, content in their newfound friendship.
A little while later, the conversation turned to the wizarding sport: Quidditch. Ron and Romulus were both gushing to Harry about how incredible the game was. They were just having an argument about who the better team was (Chudley Cannons vs Holyhead Harpies) when the door slid open yet again, but it wasn’t Hermione Granger this time.
Three boys stood there, and Harry recognised the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin’s robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he’d shown back in Diagon Alley.
“So it’s true then. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts.”
Harry stared back at him, and Romulus was looking at the other two boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.
“This is Crabbe,” said Malfoy, gesturing either side of him, “and Goyle. And I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”
Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him. “Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask yours. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”
He looked back at Harry. “You’ll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”
He held out his hand to shake Harry’s, but Harry didn’t take it.
“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks.”
Draco Malfoy didn’t go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.
“I’d be careful if I were you, Potter,” he said slowly. “Unless you’re a bit more polite, you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it’ll rub off on you.”
Harry, Ron and Romulus all stood up. Ron’s face was as red as his hair. This seemed to be the first time Malfoy noticed Romulus was even there.
“Say that again.” Ron dared.
“Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?” Malfoy sneered.
~*~
“Lovely cousin you’ve got there, Rom.” Ron said, putting on a more well-spoken tone, the hint of a smile on his face. “Why on earth did you never introduce us all before?”
The three boys laughed, still able to hear Malfoy and his cronies retreating further down the train, as well as Hermione’s bossy footsteps heading the other way.
Harry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under deep-purple sky. The train seemed to be slowing down.