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Chapter 1: The Journey from Platform 9 ¾

Potter Manor, 1991:

Harry dozed comfortably, ignoring the early morning sunshine on his cheek. He was just close enough to consciousness to realize he should be getting up, and just comfortable enough to not care.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

"For the last time you two, GET UP OR YOU'LL MISS BREAKFAST!" Harry's mother yelled, banging on the door for emphasis.

Beside him, his bedmate groaned in protest and snuggled further into her pillow.

Shaking her a little, young Harry insisted "C'mon, Daph. It's time to get up."

Groaning, the little girl laying next him rolled over, revealing a beautiful young face with blue eyes framed by golden hair.

Harry smiled at the sight and, before he realized what he was doing, bent down and kissed her on the forehead. Daphne blushed but smiled and consented to get up.

The two eleven-year-olds dressed on opposite sides of the bed. Despite frequent sleepovers and the fact that they were betrothed, the pair had never seen each other naked. But that might soon change, Harry thought. Young witches tended to awaken sexually around the age of twelve.

Harry wasn't completely sure he was ready to deal with that yet, if his mother's stories were to be believed.

As he finished getting dressed, however, Harry realized something important: he had kissed Daphne this morning.

He had never done that before.

When Harry and Daphne appeared downstairs, it was to the usual chaos. Harry's owl, Hegwig was fighting with Buster, Professor Snape's rescued messenger (he didn't name it), while Albert, Daphne's owl, backed up Hedwig. Harry's sister Daisy was pestering their mother, asking why she couldn't go to Hogwarts and if she could do everything ("Why do I have to wait a whole year? Mum, can I flip the pancakes? I'm old enough to go! It's so boring around here! Can I scramble the eggs, Mum; can I, pleeeeeeease?). Through it all, the adults tried to ignore everything.

Harry and Daphne sat down at the table just as his mother brought their plates over to them, Daisy still following along.

"Daisy Potter," Lily finally said, turning to her youngest child. "You cannot go to Hogwarts for another year and there is nothing I can do about that. Now sit down and stop asking me to change the rules or no chocolate milk!"

The dark-haired girl was instantly silent and ran to her seat opposite Harry.

After that, breakfast was fairly stable; mostly Lily asking her son and his fiancé if they were packed for the trip.

"Your books?"

"Packed."

"Your robes?"

"Packed."

"Your breakfast?"

"Pa-" Harry stopped himself and gave his mother an accusing look. "Cheater."

"Your mother," she countered without a trace of shame. "Now eat up, we to get moving soon if we want to avoid the rush; there's no way the platform has gotten any less chaotic than it was in our day, right Severus?"

The Potions professor, who was sitting next to Daisy drinking coffee, made a face. "It has definitely become worse over the years. One of Dumbledore's favorite ways of punishing teachers is to assign them to manage the platform. I'd rather take Bedlam; it's much saner."

The Hogwarts Express, Platform 9 ¾

Harry and Daphne sat alone in a compartment. They had arrived early and had had their choice of seats. The rest of the train was filling up, though; it was only twenty minutes until the departure, so there was a scramble outside the train as the late-comers tried to get in. Currently, the young couple was watching the chaos going on just outside their window.

"Excuse me," a voice said behind them.

The two turned. The speaker was a bushy-haired girl with a small overbite and a cute nose and intelligent eyes. She was standing outside the compartment, holding her bags; she was already wearing her school robes. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Harry shook his head. "No, come in," he said, waving her in, moving to sit next to Daphne. The girl came in, put her things away, and sat down across from Harry.

Harry's fiancé held out her hand. "Hello, I'm Daphne Greengrass."

"Hermione Granger, pleased to meet you." The two girls shook hands. "And you are?" Hermione asked, turning to Harry.

"Harry Potter," the boy answered, offering his own hand.

"Holy Cricket!" Hermione cried. "You're Harry Potter? I've read all about you in Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century and-"

"You haven't read anything," Harry said, drawing his hand back and slumping in his seat.

Daphne put her hand around Harry's. "Harry doesn't like what all the books say about him; they don't know what they're talking about."

"But . . . how could they . . ." Hermione struggled to form her questions.

"How could they know anything about what happened the night Voldemort-" Hermione looked confused, "-You-Know-Who-was destroyed?" Daphne countered.

Hermione didn't have an answer for that.

". . . It was my dad," Harry said. They turned to him. "He died protecting me and my mom, that's what saved us; nothing we did."

"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. She tried to imagine losing her father and shuddered, pushing the thought away. "Do you . . . want me to leave?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "It's all right."

Hermione smiled, shyly. "Thank you."

The train started moving, and the three sat in silence.

A few minutes later, after they had left the city behind, the door opened again, and a red-haired boy stuck his head in. "Mind if I sit here; everywhere else is full."

"All right," Harry said, looking at the girls who nodded conformation. "Come in."

The boy dragged his bag in; there was a large rat in a cage on top. "I'm Ron, Ron Weasley," he said, as he plopped himself down beside Hermione. The witch moved a little away from him.

"Hermione Granger," she said, looking at her new . . . friends-where they her friends?-and saw them giving Ron funny looks.

"Hey, you're Harry Potter aren't you?" the new boy cried with a grin.

"Yes . . . I am," Harry replied, his mouth twisting into something that wasn't quite a frown. "Nice to meet you."

Ron was beaming now. "Wow, I was hoping to meet you! My parents were in Gryffindor, and they knew your parents. Everyone in my family's been a Gryffindor; I hope we can be friends-"

"That's unlikely," Daphne whispered.

Ron turned to face her. "Who are you?" he asked, as though he had just now noticed her.

Daphne tried to smile as she introduced herself then stopped when the red-head exploded. "Greengrass! They're all a pack of slimy Slytherins!"

Daphne hissed, and Harry held onto her hand. "I think you should leave, Weasley." Harry said, tensely.

"Why me? Why would you want to hang out with one of those snakes?" Having been poisoned against Slytherins all his life, Ron couldn't understand why the son of two Gryffindors wanted to hang out with one. "They're all bad; 'there's not a witch or wizard that went bad that wasn't in Slytherin," he quoted.

"My mother was a Slytherin," Harry said, now openly glaring at Ron.

"What?" Ron stumbled. "But your mum-"

"Is both a Slytherin and one of the best witches in the world," Harry said, "and I hope to be too."

Ron looked like he had just swallowed his own vomit; maybe he did. "If you want to be a snake, then there's no way we can ever be friends!" He picked up his trunk and stormed out of the compartment, slamming the door behind him.

"Good riddance," Daphne said.

After a moment, Hermione asked "So . . . your mother was in Slytherin?"

Harry nodded. "A lot of them are nasty, so the whole house has a bad reputation, but a lot of really good people have been in Slytherin, like my mum."

"Or Merlin," Daphne added Hermione's eyes lit up.

"You mean King Arthur's Merlin?" She asked.

Daphne smiled. "The one and only." The trio spent the next hour or so discussing famous Wizards they had read about, particularly, good Slytherins.

All good things must come to an end, however, and soon the compartment door was reopened-and it wasn't the snack trolley.

A thin, pale boy with white hair stood between a pair of boys who looked vaguely like shrunken trolls. The blond strode in as though he owned the train, a smirk on his face. The trolls tried to imitate him and got stuck in the door when they tried to walk in at the same time.

The pale one either didn't notice or didn't care. "So it's true then," he declared, looking at Harry, "what they're saying on the train; Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

Harry glowered at the boy. "It's true, and I suppose you're Lucius Malfoy's son."

The pale newcomer got even more smug. "That's right; I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and these are Crabbe and Goyle" he indicated to the pair behind him.

"They look just like their fathers," Daphne said, examining the new trio as one examines a trio of cockroaches.

Malfoy turned to her, frowning. "And you're a Greengrass, I suppose." He didn't wait for her to reply. Turning back to Harry, he said "You'll soon find that some Wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort." He held out his hand. "I can help you there."

Harry's glowered intensified. Malfoy finally noticed it and took an involuntary step back. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks. Now," the young Potter said, standing and looking Malfoy directly in the eye, "if you're done insulting my fiancé, I'd appreciate it if you left."

Malfoy withdrew his hand and sneered. "You'll regret this Potter, mark my words." He turned and strode out of the compartment, shoving Crabbe and Goyle out of the door as he did so.

Daphne slid the door shut again. "I'll say it again, good riddance."

"Agreed," Harry said, as she settled against him again.

Hermione, however, was not happy. "Fiancé? What do you mean fiancé? You're only eleven!"

Harry shrugged. "It was from a contract that was arranged by our great-grandparents, one that could only be fulfilled by the two of us."

"That's . . . that's . . . totally BARBARIC!" Hermione yelled.

It was Daphne's turn to shrug. "I suppose so, but there's no way out of it." She snuggled in closer to Harry. "Besides, I don't mind."

"You don't mind?" Hermione looked like she was about to explode. "You're parents decided who you were going to marry, and YOU DON'T MIND?!"

Harry smiled. "Our parents figured this would work better if we started out as friends. So, Daphne and I have spent most of our lives together. She's not just my fiancé; Daphne's my best friend. At this point, I couldn't imagine not marrying her. It would break my heart."

Hermione looked mollified somewhat. "But you'll never do it to your children, right?"

Harry shook his head. "Not if we can help it; this has worked out great for us, but we know it can be horrible. We won't let it happen to our children."

The train continued on, and the hours past. Eventually, they arrived at the school, and it was time to disembark.

Hermione left first. "I'll catch up with you later?" It sounded more like a question than a promise.

Harry smiled. "Sure, just wait outside the door, and we'll catch up."

He bent down to help Daphne with the trunk that wasn't really stuck under her seat. "Okay, she's gone; what did you want to talk about?"

Daphne pulled out her trunk and smiled. "I like her," she said.

Harry nodded. "I like her, too."

"Smart, pretty, a thirst for knowledge, and a strong sense of right and wrong." Daphne listed off Hermione's virtue with a dreamy look on her face. "Passionate . . . I think she would make an excellent hetaera," the young witch said, walking through the door.

Harry swallowed. "A hetaera? Daphne, wait, you can't be serious . . . Daph! Daph!" He raced after her.