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Chapter 2: The Hogwarts Express

One of the things Harry had learned early in life was that Padfoot and kitchens didn't mix early in the morning. In fact, the last time his godfather had attempted to make breakfast, it had taken them a week to remove the grey-green, snot-like goo that had covered every possible surface. This was why it was Harry who usually prepared breakfast, while Sirius tried to wake up with a hot shower.

Harry yawned as he tended the bacon. Today was a big day; today he and Sirius go to Diagon Alley - properly disguised, of course - and buy the necessary school-equipment. Most wouldn't consider a simple trip to Diagon Alley something out of the ordinary, but considering their rather unique situation it was obvious they rarely ventured far from Padfoot's Den. Of course, Harry thought with a slight smile, today was nothing compared to tomorrow.

Tomorrow he would go to Hogwarts.

He had grown up listening to Sirius telling stories of the pranks he and the other Marauders had pulled, of the secret passageways, of the ghosts and talking portraits. The prospect of being able to learn as much magic as he wanted made his stomach flutter. However, what made him most eager to go was a little promise he had made himself... that even if he never achieved anything else while at Hogwarts, he would prove Sirius' innocence before he graduated.

And speaking of that flea-infested furball...

Harry listened closely for a moment. Yes, Sirius had begun singing in the shower, although in Harry's humble opinion it rather sounded as if he was shouting something in an obscure dialect of a language distantly related to Russian. In any case, the 'singing' meant that his godfather was more or less awake. However, just to be certain...

He quickly walked into the sitting room and opened the cupboard under the stairs. There, in a corner squeezed between a bucket and a bottle of Mrs. Scower's Magical Mess Remover, was the pipe that feed hot water to the shower on the second floor.

Grinning evilly, he drew his wand and put a Freezing Charm on the pipe, instantly covering the metal in frost. A few moments later, Sirius' so-called singing abruptly turned into a howl.

The door to the bathroom banged open, "HARRY! TURN THE BLOODY WARM WATER BACK ON! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?"

"Breakfast is ready, Padfoot," Harry said sweetly, while removing the charm. Chuckling, he walked back into the kitchen.

Sirius came throttling down the stairs a few minutes later, and Harry was proud to see that he was very much awake.

"That was totally uncalled for," Sirius grumbled as he sat down at the table.

Harry swallowed a mouthful of eggs and cocked a brow. "Did you, or did you not charm my pillow to kiss me yesterday?"

Sirius paused, fork halfway to his mouth. "Oh. Oops."

"Yeah. Oops."

"I suppose pink hair isn't warranted, then," Sirius sighed regretfully.

"Too right, it isn't," Harry muttered.

They ate in silence for a while, before Sirius spoke up again. "Harry, remember I told you about that boy James and I used to prank?"

Harry looked up. "Severus Snape?"

"That's the one. He's currently teaching Potions at Hogwarts, and I want you to stay away from him as much as possible," Sirius said, gesturing with his fork. "Keep your head down in his classes, don't attract his attention."

"But why?" Harry asked in confusion.

Sirius hesitated. "Snape is... not a good man to cross."

"What, is he dangerous?" Harry demanded.

"No, no. Of course not," Sirius said and chuckled. "He'll behave himself as long as Dumbledore is Headmaster."

Harry didn't ask again, but noted how Sirius wouldn't look him in the eyes when he said that... not to mention the insinuation that Snape wouldn't behave himself if Dumbledore weren't Headmaster.

III

Diagon Alley was just as crowded and busy as Harry remembered it. The noise and chaos had him half-dizzy within minutes. Making sure to keep close to Sirius, he cast a longing look at Quality Quidditch Supplies as they dodged around a large family of redheads.

"...can't believe we delayed this until now," a short, plump woman who was obviously the mother said to herself. "Right, next on the list is new robes for Percy."

Harry ignored them and throttled to keep up with Sirius. "Where to first?" he called over the noise of a thousand conversations.

"Gringotts," Sirius replied. "Need to exchange pounds for Galleons."

"Can I see my vault while we're there? Dumbledore gave me the key."

"Oh, but that won't be necessary," Sirius said, brushing the notion aside. "I'll pay for everything."

"But can't I at least just see?" Harry begged. "Maybe they left me something else than just money. Maybe a letter or pictures or something."

"Well, I suppose it can't hurt."

With the crowd outside, it didn't come as a surprise when they found that the queues in Gringotts almost reached past the doors and out in the street. They spent three quarters of an hour waiting patiently and staring at the back of the wizard in front of them; a giant of a man who stood at least twice as tall as Sirius, with long, wild-looking black hair and beard. For some reason, Sirius looked unordinary nervous at the man's presence, although he covered it up well. Harry, having learned not to ask suspicious questions when disguised, kept his mouth firmly shut.

Finally they got to talk to an extremely bored Goblin.

"I wish to exchange these for wizarding money," Sirius said, putting a few Muggle notes on the desk. "And then access vault number-"

"687," Harry supplied.

"Vault number 687," Sirius said.

"Right, right," the Goblin said in a bored voice. He glanced once on the notes and began counting up the appropriate number of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. "Griphook!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Hold on a moment. Take these two with you."

The Goblin Griphook had been about to escort the huge man to the vault entrance. Now he looked back with a faintly surprised expression. "But this customer has come for the object in vault 713!"

"I know what he's come for!" the teller snapped. "Just do it! I haven't got all day."

Griphook shrugged and beaconed Harry and Sirius to follow him. They entered a narrow stone cavern with tracks set in the sloping floor. The Goblin whistled and immediately a small cart came zooming, slowing to a halt beside them.

Griphook gave the huge wizard a critical look, before glancing at the cart. "I'm afraid there's not enough room for all three of you," the Goblin decided and scowled at the stranger as if it was his fault he was so big. "One of you will have to remain behind."

"I can go alone," Harry said to Sirius. "You just wait here." Sirius hesitated briefly before nodding.

Harry, the Goblin and the stranger climbed into the cart. Not without difficulty in the latter's case, due to his size. And off they went. The cart accelerated nearly instantly to breakneck speed, manoeuvring through a vast labyrinth of caves and tunnels. Left, right, left, left, left, right, middle fork, right, left, right, right, left fork, left, left, right... Harry had lost all sense of direction within moments.

Finally the cart came to a halt, and the stranger climbed out on unsteady legs. He had to lean against the wall for a moment, breathing in relief.

"Are you okay, sir?" Harry asked concerned.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," the man said and gave Harry a weak smile. "Just don't like those carts, see?"

Griphook walked past him and rubbed a long, thin finger on the vault-door. The door suddenly vanished into thin air. Harry, having expected to see a huge pile of gold or jewels, was disappointed to find that the vault was empty. At least that's what he thought at first. A second glance revealed a tiny bundle thrown carelessly on the floor.

The big man took the bundle and put it in a pocket. "That'll be all," he said to the Goblin.

Harry wondered why such a small thing required a high-security vault, but kept his tongue. It wasn't his business after all.

They all climbed back into the cart and began another reckless journey through the caverns and tunnels, this time past an underground waterfall and several ravines. The stranger sitting beside Harry groaned when they passed one of the latter. Harry worried that the man might get sick and throw up all over them; the small part of his face that wasn't covered by tangled beard was growing progressively paler.

Luckily, the cart stopped outside vault 687 before that could happen. When the door to his vault opened, Harry was presented with the view of piles upon piles of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. He sucked in breath at the sight. True, he had never lacked anything when growing up with Sirius, but he had also never held command over much money himself. That he was the owner of this fortune left him with a decidedly giddy sensation.

He spent some time looking around the piles of money, but to his disappointment found nothing else in the vault.

I suppose all they ovned were destroyed with their house. Would have been nice to have a few pictures of them, though.

At Griphook's somewhat impatient cough, Harry gave himself a shake and quickly scooped up a few Galleons as pocket money before closing the vault. After one last wild ride with the cart, he exited Gringotts along with Sirius.

"Do you know that man?" Harry asked in a low voice, as soon as the stranger was outside of earshot.

"That was Rubeus Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. I was worried he might recognize us, disguises or no. We used to be good friends before I was framed," Sirius added sadly.

"He isn't dangerous, is he?" Harry asked, thinking of the man's intimidating appearance.

"Hagrid? Oh, no, no!" Sirius laughed. "He's about as dangerous as a hamster. Well, unless you are dumb enough to speak ill of Dumbledore in his presence; that does tend to do bad things to your health."

III

Next, Sirius bought Harry school robes at /Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions/, before buying the necessary books at /Flourish & Blotts/, potion ingredients at /Slug & Jiggers Apothecary/, and a beautiful snowy owl Harry decided to name Hedwig at /Eeylops Owl Emporium/.

At that point they decided to take a short break, buying two ice-cream cones (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts) from Florean Fortescue. Afterward, they went to Ollivander's to buy what Harry had wanted most - his own wand. Up until then he had used his mother's wand, which Sirius had given him on his eight birthday. It had served him well enough, but it still wasn't a perfect fit.

Mr Ollivander's shop turned out to be rather shabby, with walls lined floor to ceiling with thousands of narrow boxes.

"Mr Ollivander?" Sirius called.

"No need to shout. I'm right here."

Both Harry and Sirius jumped. Somehow, an old gentleman with grey hair and eerie, moonlike eyes had managed to slip behind them without being seen. Now he looked at Sirius with a puzzled expression. "I remember each and every wand I have ever sold, but yet I can't recall ever having sold a wand to you, Mr..."

"Evans," Sirius supplied. "I immigrated from Canada with my son eight years ago, and I already had a wand by then."

Mr Ollivander stared at Sirius for a moment longer with an unreadable expression and Harry half-expected him to shout: "Liar!"

"Very well," he said finally and moved his stare to Harry. "You are starting at Hogwarts, I presume?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said.

Mr Ollivander gave him critical look before vanishing behind the register. Two or three minutes later, he reappeared with a box. He opened it and took out the wand, smiling as he held it toward Harry. "Willow, nine inches, with a single unicorn hair. Go on, give it a flick."

Harry did as he was told, but Mr Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost immediately. "No, no, no. Let's see-" He vanished amid the stacks of boxes and returned moments later with a new wand. "Mahogany, thirteen inches, with dragon's heartstring."

That one didn't fit either. However, Mr Ollivander didn't seem disappointed at all.

"Difficult customer, eh?" Mr Ollivander murmured. "Don't you worry. We'll find one."

For every wand that didn't fit, the strange shop-owner seemed to grow more and more pleased. Fifteen minutes and twenty-four wands later he was all but crackling with glee. Harry couldn't help but stare at this strange behaviour.

"He's always been like that," Sirius whispered to him. "Love a professional challenge."

"I wonder," Harry heard Mr Ollivander mutter to himself. "I wonder if-" He brought out a dusty box and opened it. "Try this one. Holly, eleven inches, with a single phoenix feather."

Harry took it, and as soon as his fingers touched the polished wood, a sense of wellbeing washed over him. He smiled and waved the wand, causing a shower of red sparks to fly out of the tip.

"Hah! An excellent fit!" Mr Ollivander exclaimed delightedly. "It's a bit peculiar, though."

Harry looked up. "Peculiar, sir?"

Mr Ollivander grew sombre. "Yes. You see, the phoenix that donated a tail-feather to that wand, also donated another feather for another wand... which I sold to a wizard who would eventually become known as the Dark Lord Voldemort."

Harry froze, and he heard Sirius suck in a breath behind him.

"I see you realize the implications," Mr Ollivander said with a nod to Sirius. "Your son's new wand is the brother of the wand that gave the Boy-Who-Lived his scar."

III

The next day they used Side-Along-Apparition to travel from Padfoot's Den to a blind ally near King's Cross.

"Remember that the Daily Prophet has been howling for years about how I have 'corrupted' you and taught you the Dark Arts," Sirius had said before he transformed into his Animagus-form. "So be prepared that some people's reactions may be a little extreme, once they realize who you are."

With Padfoot by his side, Harry walked to the spot where the magical barrier separated the Muggle and Wizarding parts of the station. They had decided that it made little sense for Harry to wear a disguise. Since he was going to Hogwarts, he sooner or later had to make a public appearance as himself anyway. Still, Harry nervously patted his fringe and made sure it covered his scar, as they made their way through the crowd of Muggles.

Platform Nine - Platform Ten. There it is, Harry thought, eyeing the barrier. Beside him, Padfoot gave an encouraging bark.

"...full of Muggles, of course."

The word 'Muggles' wrenched his attention from the barrier to a short, plump woman surrounded by four boys and one girl, all of them with flaming red hair. They all kept a steady course toward the magical barrier. Harry resisted an urge to clap a hand to his forehead; of course there would be wizards on the Muggle side of the station, too.

He followed the wizarding family to the barrier, watching as a tall boy with horn-rimmed spectacles marched through it. At that point, the girl suddenly saw Hedwig in her cage. Her eyes widened and she tugged at her mother's sleeve excitedly, pointing at Harry.

"Mum, look!"

The mother looked from Hedwig to Harry and made the obvious connection. "First year at Hogwarts, dear?" she asked warmly.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered.

"Ron's new, too," she said, pointing at one of her sons; a tall, incredibly freckled fellow with a rather long nose. "These two troublemakers are starting their third year," she continued, indicating a pair of identical twins.

After exchanging nods with the redheads, Harry looked down at Padfoot who had remained quiet throughout the encounter. "Okay, you walking flea-bag; I think I can take it from here. Run home, and try to keep out of trouble."

Padfoot barked once, paused to rub his head against Harry's side, before bouncing off and disappearing amid the crowd.

III

It was with a sigh of relief that Harry found an empty cab and put his trunk into place. Platform 9 3/4 was far more chaotic than Diagon Alley on its worst; parents saying goodbye to their children, people searching for lost luggage, children crying because they can't find their parents, and people of all possible ages generally milling around like crazy. For someone who had grown up in the quiet at Padfoot's Den, the sheer confusion was almost overwhelming.

Harry more fell than sat down in his seat, just savouring the relative silence. It didn't last longer than a few moments, before the door went up and the pair of twins he had met earlier stuck their heads in.

"Excuse us; have you seen our brother?" one of them asked.

The other made a face. "Mum wants to give him one last hug, before... before..." He trailed off, as his eyes grew so wide they seemed in danger of popping out of his skull.

Harry looked from one pale face to the other in confusion. "What?"

The twin who had spoken first gaped at him and lifted a hand to point at Harry's forehead. "But you- you are-"

Harry's hand flew to his scar. "Oh, that," he said quickly. "Well, umm, I can explain-"

But Harry didn't get the chance to explain anything, because both twins recoiled out of the cab and slammed the door shut.

"Great," he muttered darkly to himself. "Wonderful start."

Harry spent the next few moments wondering how he was suppose to function at Hogwarts, if all the other students also reacted like that. He had a brief mental image of himself walking down a corridor with half the students at the school trampling each other down in an effort to get away from him.

Now don't be silly, he thought to himself. Once they realize I don't know anything more about the Dark Arts than they do, things will get better.

"Oh, shut up and let me through!"

The bellow coming from just outside his cab ripped Harry out of his thoughts. He rose from his seat and opened the door to see what was going on.

One of the redheads he had met outside the barrier - Ron, Harry remembered his name was - were standing in the corridor, carrying a trunk and with his face flushed as red as his hair. The object of his anger and frustration appeared to be a boy with pale, blonde hair, who was standing with his back to Harry. A pair of large boys flanked him; one with a pudding-bowl haircut, the other with short and bristly hair. Together, the three boys were standing shoulder to shoulder from one side of the corridor to the other, blocking the way.

"I don't think so, Weasley," the blonde boy drawled. "All the carts in this part of the train are reserved for the elite, not blood-traitors so poor they can't distinguish Galleons from pig-droppings."

The two boys standing to each side of him grunted in laughter. Ron flushed an even darker red and seemed to ready himself for an explosion, but Harry had heard enough to realize that the blonde boy was what Sirius called 'the worst kind of pureblood'.

Making sure his new wand was in place in his sleeve, Harry said: "Why don't you get your scrawny arse out of the way and let decent people pass?"

The boy scowled over his shoulder, and so did his two companions. "And who are you?" he demanded to know.

"None of your concern," Harry said coldly. Ron seemed to have calmed down a little over the appearance of this unexpected help, but he was still glaring death at the blonde which now turned to fully face Harry.

"Well, I have you know that I'm Draco Malfoy," the boy said proudly and drew himself up. "These two are Crabbe and Goyle."

The boy's last name triggered something in Harry's memory. "You don't happen to be the son of Lucius Malfoy, do you?"

"That's right," Malfoy confirmed, smirking. "I see you've heard of us."

Harry's eyes narrowed in distaste. "Yes. Your father used to be best chums with the bastard who murdered my family. A pity the Ministry didn't throw him in Azkaban."

Malfoy blanched at the way Harry referred to Voldemort. "You will not speak of my father that way!" he snapped. "If your family were killed by the Dark Lord, they were probably mudbloods who deserved it!"

"That's enough," Harry growled and moved his wrist so that his wand fell down into his waiting hand. "Last warning. Get your arrogant arse out of the way."

Malfoy answered by attempting to draw his own wand, but was far too slow.

Crack!

Before anyone could react, Harry had snapped off an incantation. There was an abrupt blur of motion, and suddenly Malfoy were dangling upside-down from the ceiling. Magical rope were wrapped around his arms, chest and ankles, from which he hung suspended above the floor like a side of beef.

"What the-!" he began, but Harry pointed his wand at Malfoy's head and said: "Silencio!"

Crabbe and Goyle were still blinking in consternation at the sudden turn of events. Now they both made moves to grab their own wands.

"Try," Harry said quietly, which made both boys freeze. "If you think you're fast enough. But I'm warning you; I know some rather interesting curses."

The pair stared at him for a few seconds, glanced at Malfoy who were now struggling and raging impotently, glanced at each other - and slowly began to back down the corridor.

Transferring his attention to Ron he grinned and said, "There's an empty cab over here, if you'd like."

Ron had stared at him in something approaching awe. Now he grinned hugely. "Sure!"

He made his way past the dangling Malfoy and into the cab. Harry entered after him and closed the door.

"That was absolutely brilliant!" Ron exclaimed as he put his trunk into place. "He kept pestering me about the purity of his blood, his family's wealth, their connections and stuff like that. Bloody annoying. And I couldn't get past him either, with those two goons of his."

Harry opened the window to let some fresh air in. "I know what you mean. I have nothing against Purebloods in general, but-" He stopped himself when he saw Ron glance out the window and suddenly sink down in the seat opposite Harry, apparently trying to become as small as possible.

"My mother's right outside," he whispered and made a face. "She always gets weepy right before the train leaves. I hate that."

"Mum, mum!" came a voice from outside. Harry recognized as belonging to one of the twins he had just met.

"There you are. Did you find Ron?" said the mother. "But what's the matter, Fred? You're so pale!"

"Mum, do you remember the black-haired boy you talked to outside the barrier?" the twin - Fred - said so quickly the words almost overlapped each other.

"Yes, but-"

"That was Harry Potter!"

Ron bolted upright and let out a half-strangled sound. Under other circumstances, Harry might have found the incredulous, pop-eyed look that came his way funny.

"It's okay," Harry said quickly, not wanting Ron to run away like the twins had. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Now don't be silly, Fred," came the mother's voice after a moment's pause. "Why would he of all people be on the Hogwarts Express?"

"It's true!" said Fred's brother. "I saw the scar. It's right there, shaped like a lightning-bolt."

There was another pause, in which nearly all colour vanished from Ron's face. Harry began worrying that he might pass out or do something drastic.

"Fred and George; you'll stay here and watch Ginny," the mother said firmly. "I'll go get Ron and Percy."

The twin's immediately began to object. "But Mum, how are we going to get to Hogwarts?"

"And Ron will miss his sorting!"

"No buts!" the mother said sharply. "Heaven knows what Sirius Black has taught the boy. He could be dangerous!"

"Look, I'm not a dark wizard," Harry tried to reassure Ron. "I don't know anything more about the Dark Arts than you do. I'm here to attend Hogwarts, just like you."

Ron's mouth opened and closed a few times before he got a word out. "Hogwarts? But- you- Sirius Black- he-" He paused to swallow. "I don't understand."

Harry sighed. "It's a rather long story."

"...and besides he could never have gotten onboard the train without a ticket," Fred's voice came through the window.

"Dumbledore must know he's onboard," his brother agreed. "We'll just alert the Prefects if they don't already know. Potter is, what, eleven? He can't possibly be that dangerous."

"I don't know, George..." the mother hesitated.

Right then there was a whistle further down the platform, and the train slowly began to move.

"We've got to go, Mum," George said.

"We'll be fine," his brother added. "Ron, too."

"Alright, but find Ron and Percy as fast as you can," the mother called after them. "And alert the Prefects. I'll be Flooing the Headmaster."

Harry sighed and drew his wand. Ron's eyes grew if possible even bigger and he seemed to stop breathing. Harry tossed his wand over to him and he flinched violently from the sudden movement. The redhead blinked in surprise and confusion at the wand now lying in his lap.

"Now you are armed and I am not," Harry lied. His mother's wand was still in his right pocket. "Could you please calm down a little now?"

Ron tentatively touched Harry's wand, as if afraid it was going to bite him. He looked up. "I don't understand," he repeated quietly. "Did you escape from Sirius Black?"

"No, it was Sirius who sent me here. Listen, just about everything you've ever heard about us is false. Everything. Sirius was never a Death Eater, he hasn't taught me the Dark Arts, and he has never killed anybody."

"But he kidnapped you-"

"From my Muggle relatives who didn't take properly care of me," Harry interrupted. "I have lived with him for ten years, and he's never-"

The door to the cab suddenly went up, revealing a pair of nervous-looking twins. Both had their wands drawn, and Ron looked very relieved at their appearance.

"Alright Ron, let's go," one of them said. Their eyes never wavered from Harry.

"Um, he gave me his wand," Ron said, holding Harry's wand up. "Says he's here to attend Hogwarts."

The twins looked at their brother in surprise, before returning their gaze to Harry.

"Why don't you two sit down, and I'll explain why I'm here," Harry said quietly. When they hesitated, he quickly added: "Dumbledore knows I'm on the train, you know. He gave me the ticket personally."

The pair looked at each other. One crocked a brow. The other seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, let's hear it." They closed the door behind them and sat down beside their brother.

Harry readied himself for a long explanation. "I suppose it started when my parents decided to go into hiding, using the Fidelius Charm. The charm works by..."

III

A rat named Scabbers ran across the platform, dodging left and right to avoid being stepped on. Beside him the Hogwarts Express were slowly gaining speed. It stopped for a while, its tiny head looking around as if searching for something. Apparently finding what it looked for, it darted past a set of parents in the direction of a mother and her daughter.

Scabbers, however, was no ordinary rat.

Camouflaged by his animagus-form, Peter Pettigrew kicked himself for losing track of the date. How could he possibly have forgotten that Harry was scheduled to attend Hogwarts this year? On the other hand, he had never dreamed that Sirius would be so daring he'd send his godson to Hogwarts without first clearing his name.

Finally he reached the girl named Ginny Weasley and squeaked to get her attention.

"Mum, look! It's Scabbers." She bent down and gathered Pettigrew up in her hands.

"He must have escaped from Ron, dear," Mrs Weasley said absently, continuing to walk briskly toward the barrier. "Ron will have to be without Scabbers this year."

Ginny hurried after her mother. "Can't we send him with Errol?"

"Now don't be silly, Ginny. Owls eat rats."

And so do the bloody garden-gnomes, Pettigrew thought in dismay. It's wonder I've survived this long.

III

As always, a big thanks goes to my beta-reader; the Phoenix King.