“Alrigh’ Harry, firs’ thing first, we should get ya a wand from old Olivander's.”

Hagrid led Harry to Olivander’s wand shop and they walked in the door. The place was filled to almost bursting with wands with shelves that reached all the way to the ceiling. An old but energetic man appeared from the back as the bell on the door rang. He came forward and spoke, his voice rasping a little.

“Ah, here for a new wand? Wand arm please.”

Harry waited a moment before deciding to just put up his right arm for inspection. The old man took out a ribbon marked with measurements and Harry watched as it flew on its own to curl and measure his arm.

“Eleven inches, dragon heartstring.”

Olivander shoved a wand in Harry’s hand but before he could react the man took it away again and retrieved another wand and put it in Harry's hands. Harry didn’t feel any different than normal, it just felt like wood.

“Yes, yes. A very difficult case. No reaction at all. But the magic is clearly flowing from your end. Hmmmm. Maybe…”

Harry and Hagrid stood there as Olivander rustled around in the back for a moment. He returned with a wand shrouded in dark black wood. It was curved on one end and straight on the other.

“This is a very special wand, my boy. An experiment with a thestral hair core I made several years ago. Very associated with death, those creatures. Black elm sheath. Eleven inches. Here, try it.”

As soon as the wand touched Harry’s hand something felt different. He felt warm inside and his right arm began tingling.

“Why don’t you try it, boy? Give it a flick?”

“Okay.”

Harry swept his wand randomly and all the lamps in that direction were snuffed.

“Interesting. An unusual first manifestation, but perhaps that is due to the core. Thestrals are often associated with death… The Boy Who Lived, so compatible with a wand associated with death. Interesting. Now, that would be five galleons.”

Harry nodded and handed over the money. Harry was curious about the man’s comments, but best not to ask. He didn’t want to upset him after he had done all that work for Harry.

The rest of the trip went smoothly, and Hagrid helped him find all the various shops needed to buy his supplies on the list. Harry had been disappointed when none of the animals that he could buy for pets would go near him. He left without either an owl or toad despite all the other students seeming to have a beast of their own from what he had seen so far.

Harry was realizing that he did feel things, unlike what he had believed his whole life. Now he was looking for it, he could register his tiny changes in behavior because of the things around him. But because others normally displayed it so much more, Harry had missed his own emotions up to now.

He got the rest of the supplies, and Hagrid unfortunately returned him back to the Dursleys. It seemed that he would have to wait two more weeks before he would leave for this school. Uncle Vernon was furious with Harry and berated him after he returned. Harry realized for the first time that he disliked this habit as the rant went over ten minutes in length.

He had thought it was just because they were busy, but Hagrid hadn’t yelled at him even once while he helped Harry shop for supplies. Harry had been waiting for the outburst but somehow it had never come. Uncle Vernon kept going with his rant, but all Harry had to do was act as he usually did, and Uncle Vernon ran out of steam and angrily stomped away. Harry shrugged and then started loading the rest of his supplies into the closet under the stairs. He would only have to deal with it for two more weeks, no need to overanalyze his newfound feelings too much. He would be going to Hogwarts soon. Where hopefully people wouldn’t yell at him or call him stupid anymore.

— — —

“Uncle, we have to leave. Even now, we will be between five and fifteen minutes late depending on traffic to King's Cross station.”

“Fine, boy! Quit your yammering. I’m going if just to get you out.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

— — —

Harry arrived at King’s Cross station pushing his cart of supplies and Hagrid was nowhere to be seen. He was ten minutes late and would have to rush to the train. Uncle Vernon had already left as soon as he dropped Harry off without saying goodbye. Harry looked at the note in his hand.

“Platform nine and three quarters. Is this right?”

Harry went between platforms nine and ten and glanced around at the bustling crowd. There was no platform nine and three quarters. Was it hidden with magic somehow? Why did Hagrid think that Harry would be able to find it?

A group of people with deep red hair pushed through the crowd in a rush. A plump woman herded forward four boys and a girl with their trolleys along with her husband.

“...Muggles. Late as it is, can’t believe…”

Harry pushed forward to follow them quickly before they could make it past.

“Excuse me. Are you aware of how to access Platform nine and three quarters?”

The woman turned and blinked at Harry’s words.

“What? Where’s your… Well, it doesn’t matter, can’t be late. Don't worry, we’ll show you just follow us.”

Harry joined the redheaded family and they came to a stop to the brick pylon holding up the roof.

“Now, just run straight for it. Just have to have a little confidence in it. Here, Arthur will demonstrate.”

The man next to the woman took the youngest boy and ran forward with the girl not trailing far behind. They ran full speed and just before they hit it, they suddenly vanished as if they were never there to begin with. The others went as well, Harry waiting behind. Now it was just him and the woman on the crowded platform.

“Now, it's your turn. Don’t worry, it's perfectly safe. I’ll even run in with you if you’d like.”

“Yes, thank you.”

She muttered, “Such a polite boy,” under her breath.

She grabbed the handles on the cart and they rushed forward together towards the wall. Harry closed his eyes to prevent more damage due to his incoming injury, but to his surprise, he just felt a wave of coolness and he was through. He looked up and there was the sign. Platform nine and three quarters. Harry checked the time and realized the train would be leaving in three minutes. The husband, Arthur was already ushering the rest of his kids onto the train except the girl. Harry turned to the woman.

“Thank you for the help. I should get on the train now.”

“Of course. What did you say your name was?”

“Harry. Harry Potter.”

“Oh. Oh my. Well, I’m Molly Weasley. Nice meeting you Harry.”

“You too, Mrs. Weasley. Bye.”

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With that, Harry turned and rushed onto the train. It seemed all the compartments were full except for one in the back. One of the boys from before was sitting in there. He was clutching a fat rat. Harry opened the door.

“Can I sit here? It appears all the others are full.”

“Er, sure thing mate.”

Harry closed the door behind him and put his luggage in the overhead storage and sat down.

“Hello, I am Harry Potter. What is your name?”

“Harry Potter! Wow, I’m sitting with Harry Potter? I’m Ron Weasley. What’s it like being famous?”

Harry considered.

“Hmmm. Very strange. People kept congratulating me on killing someone while I was a baby. I thought most people would consider that a bad thing.”

“Well… I mean, normally you’re right." sputtered Ron. "But it was You Know Who. Darkest wizard alive. It’s good he’s dead. And of course you didn’t mean to do it, you were just a baby.”

“Huh. I wonder how many bad deeds make someone killable?”

Ron looked uncomfortable.

“Well, Whatever it was, You Know Who went over it. You’re different than I thought you’d be…”

“How did you imagine I’d be?”

“I don’t know. But you speak like some sort of scholar or something. I kinda expected you to be a bit full of yourself too.”

Not sure how to respond, Harry attempted a joke.

“Well, maybe I am arrogant. I deserve some praise for surviving being murdered as a baby, you know.”

The joke seemed to fall flat on Ron for a moment before he snorted and began laughing.

“Haha. You got a dark sense of humor, Harry. Reminds me of some of the Aurors at my dad’s work.”

Harry worked his face into a smile. There was a warmth in his chest, but not enough to make his body shift too much. He should try to exaggerate like everyone else, and show Ron his appreciation.

“Thanks, I do my best.”

After that Ron seemed to relax and continued to engage Harry in awkward conversation. It was very difficult for Harry, but Ron didn’t seem to mind too much when Harry went on a tangent or said something he considered odd. The warmth grew. Ron wasn’t yelling at him and calling him a freak when he messed up.

After a while, the door slid open and a bushy haired girl stood there. Her voice was prim as she looked between them.

“Excuse me, have you seen a toad recently? Neville Longbottom seems to have lost his.”

The two shook their heads. The girl seemed to hover at the door for a moment, not wanting to leave. Harry, seeing Ron wasn’t going to say something, spoke.

“Would you like to sit with us? We have extra seats.”

She hesitated more.

“Sure. I’m Hermoine by the way. The girls in my compartment are quite rude. They’re hoping to be in some house called Slytherin apparently. I’ll be back in a minute.”

The door closed. Ron eyed Harry.

“Did you just invite a girl to sit with us?”

Harry looked back blankly.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? We have space here.”

Ron snorted.

“Alright, fair enough Harry. Wouldn’t wish sitting with a bunch of snakes on anyone anyway.”

“Snakes?”

“Oh, Slytherin. Snakes are their patron animal. They are one of the four houses at Hogwarts. Known as a bunch of backstabbing schemers. Every dark wizard in hundreds of years has come out of that house. They're all rotten if you ask me. My whole family is put in Gryffindor, brave like lions. That’s where I want to go. Anything but Slytherin.”

Harry nodded. The door opened again and the girl came in with her trunk. She put away her things and then sat down with a huff.

“Found the toad. It was in just the next compartment actually.”

Harry continued from his last thought once she appeared to have settled herself.

“I guess Slytherin would be the worst house. The last dark lord was defeated by a baby after all. He couldn’t have been that powerful.”

Ron choked and then keeled over and started laughing.

“Not… Powerful. Baby. Merlin’s beard Harry. You’re mental.”

Hermoine looked confused.

“Are you talking about the dark lord Voldemort? Defeated by the boy…”

She looked at Harry and seemed to notice something under his thick bangs. Noticing her look, Harry pulled his hair aside and showed the two his lightning scar.

Hermoine leaned forward.

“You’re Harry Potter? I read about you in The History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot.”

Harry cocked his head.

“I’m in there? I’ve only read to page four hundred. I must be at the end.”

Harry neglected to tell her it had taken him the entire two weeks of nonstop reading to get that far. At least he only had to read everything once with his perfect memory.

“Oh my. Isn’t the history so interesting? I’m sure both of you are used to it being born to wizarding families, but my parents are muggles so it's all so new to me.”

“Actually, I was raised by my aunt and uncle who were muggles as well. I only learned about all of this two weeks ago.”

Ron was shocked.

“Bloody hell, they didn’t tell you anything about magic? About your parents.”

Harry shrugged. “They said they died in a car crash. I didn’t see why they would lie before.”

“How was it, living with muggles compared to here? I… Oh, you too Hermoine. My dad’s obsessed with them but we’re a wizarding household you know.”

Hermoine spoke up.

“Well I haven’t been to a wizarding home yet but it is quite exciting to learn magic was real. I mean it can do so much, solve so many problems in the world. It’s amazing that we have something like that.”

Both turned to Harry.

“How about you, Harry? How was it with your aunt and uncle?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but the door slid open all of a sudden. A blonde-haired boy and a sneering girl stood beside him. The boy spoke, his voice in a drawl.

“I’ve heard that the famous Harry Potter is in this compartment.”

He scanned the compartment and his eyes landed on Harry’s scar partially hidden by his overgrown black hair. He extended his hand towards Harry. Harry reflexively grabbed it and returned the handshake.

“Draco. Draco Malfoy. Soon you’ll learn that some families are better than others. Make sure you don’t make friends with the… wrong sort.”

The girl next to Draco spoke up.

“Like the muggle-born there. To think she would dare to try to tell us what she could know about magic…”

Draco shot a smirk at Ron and Hermoine who glared back. Ron looked furious while Hermoine looked hurt at the harsh tone of the girl’s words. Harry felt the faint burning of anger rise again within him. He should exaggerate his reaction to this too. Ron and Hermoine didn’t seem to appreciate Draco’s comments. It seems they cared more about these things than Harry did.

Harry tried to remember how Uncle Vernon would act when someone insulted him. Or how he said he reacted afterward when he came home from work. Despite Harry’s best efforts, his voice still was mostly calm as he spoke. Mimicking more emotion seemed to make these insults more effective the few times Harry had practiced in the past.

“Shut up, Malfoy. You seem like the wrong sort, walking in here and just insulting people. Go away, no one cares even the slightest bit who your stupid family is.”

The girl froze and put her hand over her mouth. Draco glared at her, and Harry could see her smile behind her hand. Before she could break, she turned away and ran off.

Draco glared at Harry.

“You’ll pay for that Harry Potter. I'll have you know that the Malfoys are one of the top true wizarding families.”

Harry mimicked a very exaggerated scoff. "Whatever. Go tell someone who cares."

Then sticking his nose dramatically up in the air, Draco Malfoy closed the compartment door and the trio heard his footsteps receding into the distance. Ron sat down, still a little red in the face.

“Merlin’s beard, Harry. That was brutal, did you see his face? You said it so calmly too, like it was just a fact.”

Harry rubbed the back of his head. Another useful gesture.

“Sorry if it was too much. I’m not very good with people. It’s okay if you want to yell at me or something.”

Ron was confused.

“Yell at you? Mate, that was the best thing I’ve ever seen. You did great, don’t worry. And you’re a little strange, but you seem like a good bloke to me.”

Hermoine nodded and she seemed to suddenly understand something.

“Ron’s right, that was a good thing you did. Would you like to be friends?”

Harry considered. He had never had a real friend before. What would it be like, he wondered?

“Yes. I would like that.”

He turned to Ron. Was it his turn now?

“Ron, would you also like to be friends?”

Ron nodded.

“Sure, mate. Can’t say no after that.”

There was a moment of silence.

Harry spoke up.

“So now do you two do it? I’ve never done this before…”

“Fine, fine.” Ron snorted and turned. “Hermoine, you want to be friends?”

“Yes, Ron. Let’s be friends.”

More silence. It was Ron who spoke up this time. “Either of you flown on brooms yet?”

Both of them shook their heads.

“Well, just you wait. Flying is just the best…”

And so the conversation went to lighter topics. Hermoine adjusted to Harry’s strangeness quicker than Ron had. The warmth in Harry's chest grew stronger. This was good. Maybe they weren’t going to yell or put him down. That was good.