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(Enchanted Melodies) Chapter 11: Ride on the Express
🕑 Added 2023-02-20 15:55:43 +0000 UTCChapter 11: Ride on the Express
1st September 1991, Hogwarts Express
Harry was curious as to how magical literature held up against the classics, and it was funny how a fiction novel ended up teaching him more about the everyday wizarding world than all of the Muggleborn introduction books combined. Still, Harry felt he was ready to officially enter the magical world, and he immersed himself in the book about the adventures of a young curse breaker in an old Egyptian ruin.
Fifteen minutes before the train’s supposed departure, the station was almost full of people, mostly parents and siblings saying their goodbyes to students. Harry couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness and envy. The idea that someone would actually miss him while he was away, was one of the few things that he envied other children. He only hoped that one day he would have someone like that, someone that would love him enough to miss him.
Things had gotten a lot messier when Neville Longbottom had been seen in the station. Dozens of reporters were leaping towards the eleven-year-old boy, and it was only the threatening looks of what he assumes to be the Longbottom matriarch, that they backed off. Harry didn’t see the boy-who-lived but he didn’t particularly care about it, even if he was slightly curious as to how the boy would compare to the Neville Longbottom from the stories.
Still, it was only when the train departed that someone knocked on his compartment, trying to get in. Harry looked up and saw a dark-skinned boy his age. Assuming that the boy wanted to get inside, he stood up and discretely unlocked his compartment.
The boy had dismissed him with a glance, “You do know that locking the compartments is against the rules, don’t you?”
Harry didn’t verbally answer and just shrugged. The boy bristled at his reaction and asked, “Do you mind if I sit here?”
“Sure,” the young Potter responded.
The boy nodded politely and sat down in the seat next to him with obviously practiced grace. Harry rolled his eyes at his pretentious attitude and continued his book. While Harry really wasn’t the most social of creatures, he was going to invest time and effort in a friendship when they would end up in different house, which would make it a lot harder to maintain any friendships.
It's not that it would be impossible, just that from what he had read, the competition between houses is a real one, and things could go very sour, especially considering how childish eleven-year-olds tend to be.
A few minutes in, another boy entered the compartment. Harry recognized him as Draco Malfoy who had actual goons backing him up. The two other kids were standing behind him, trying their best to look intimidating. It was one of the funniest thing Harry had ever seen in his life.
They were eleven. Kids that age just weren’t intimidating. Seriously, what the hell were these kids taught at home. Honestly, they resembled children trying to pretend to be mafia bosses.
Malfoy, though, didn’t seem to notice the ridiculousness of the situation, “Hey, Zabini. I’m looking for Longbottom, did you see him anywhere?”
They boy shook his head, “I’m afraid not.”
The blonde then looked at the Potter scion, “What about you?”
Harry just shook his head and went back to reading. The boy though wasn’t satisfied, “Are you a mute or something?”
Again, Harry turned to the blonde and raised an eyebrow, “I can talk just fine.”
“Then why didn’t you answer me properly?”
The green-eyed boy looked at him in the eyes, “Did you understand my denial?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then, what is the problem?” Harry questioned.
The boy huffed in frustration, “It’s rude…”
“Did shaking my head offend you? Do I need to worry about you being near every time I move my head?”
“No, it’s not that?”
The young Potter stifled a smile, “Then, how were you offended?”
The blonde blushed in embarrassment, “I have better things to do than to bicker with an uncultured swine.”
He then turned and left, taking his bodyguards with him. When he left, Harry couldn’t help but snort in amusement. Annoying spoilt kids was always fun.
The Zabini boy just looked at him, flabbergasted, “How did you do that?”
“Do what exactly?”
“He never goes away, and he likes to throw his father’s name around. I thought he would have told Crabbe and Goyle to beat you up or something.”
Harry simply shrugged, “He does it to get a reaction, when he realized that I wasn’t going to provide him one, he left. I just annoyed him into not wanting to stay there.”
“Well, whatever this was, it was brilliant. I’m Zabini, by the way. Blaise Zabini of the Italian Zabinis.”
Harry nodded, “Harry Potter.”
He then chose to return to his book. It was far better than continuing whatever conversation the boy was trying to start. Blaise seemed to have understood that he didn’t want to talk and left his devices.
Everything seemed to go quietly until a smiling, portly, woman opened the compartment, “Anything off the trolley, dears?”
Realizing that he was quite hungry, Harry bought a couple of sandwiches and a chocolate frog for deserts. The Potter scion had tried out a few of the sweets the wizarding world had to offer. He had quite the sweet tooth and he was always down to try out new deserts. Only that wizards seemed to interpret the idea of sweets differently. Whoever came up with Bernie Botts’s Every-Flavor Beans was insane, and so were the people who actually bought it. Why would anyone make a spoilt milk flavored jellybean baffled Harry to the extreme. Even chocolate frogs weirded him, but their chocolate was too good for it to be an issue.
Harry slowly ate his sandwiches while still reading his book. He didn’t really care about staining it, since it was just a fiction book that he probably wouldn’t read again.
Again, someone chose to enter their compartment. It was bushy haired girl with large front teeth. She practically barged into the compartment and asked, “Have any of you seen a toad? A girl called Sally Anne lost hers.”
Zabini just snorted and refused to answer her. It was very rude, and the girl looked like she was about to rant at the boy, and so, Harry answered her, “I haven’t. You know, you could just ask the prefects to help you instead of going through every compartment. I think they have a special room in the front of the train. They should help your friend.”
The girl nodded, “I hadn’t thought of that, thank you.”
The witch then left as abruptly as she entered. Zabini though spoke up, “I hope I’m not in the same house as her.”
Harry shrugged, “that’s not for you to decide.”
“Who still have frogs as pets?”
“It’s probably for the frog choir,” Harry explained, “I don’t see any other reason to have one if this Sally-Anne wasn’t planning on joining. I hear it’s headed by the charms professor, who was a dueling champion when he was younger.”
Harry was very surprised when he found out that toads actually had a purpose in the magical world. It wasn’t a glamorous one, but the amphibians can be trained like sentient instruments to produce beautiful music there. The Hogwarts frog choir is centuries old, and seventh year students members of that club were often offered positions in the music industry.
Blaise didn’t seem satisfied with my refusal to mock the girl – she must have enough self-esteem issues and Harry didn’t want to pile onto them – and decided to change the subjects entirely, “So, which house are you aiming for? I’m guessing Ravenclaw.”
“I don’t really have a preference. What about you?”
“Slytherin. It should help me make connections when I’m older.”
Harry couldn’t help but snort in amusement, but Blaise seemed to take offense to that, “What’s so funny?”
“It’s just that you’re eleven. You’re not going to make political connections, and no one is going to take you seriously if you say something like that. You’ll only start to benefit from it when you’re older, when schoolhouses won’t be that much of a deal then.”
The Zabini boy seemed unconcerned, “But all of the Pureblood families end up in Slytherin…”
“Then it’s a tradition you’re following. You’re not doing it to make connections, you’re doing it to fit it. Do you think that when you’re older, that you will just ignore three fourth of the population just because they were in different houses?”
The boy looked down and mumbled, “No.”
“Then in the long term, your house really doesn’t make a difference. If you want to fit in, just admit it to yourself and do it. There’s nothing embarrassing about it, but don’t lie to yourself by using words and terms that you won’t appreciate. You’re too young to ‘make connections’ and you know it. You’re better off enjoying your youth instead of wasting it on long term plans that will never work.”
“You’re as old as me,” Zabini protested.
“I am, but that doesn’t mean that I’m wrong. I am not talking to you out of some weird political and financial interest. You’re eleven and so am I. We’ll have to worry about homework and exams, not political moves.”
Before he could say anything, a loud voice echoed through the train, “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”
The voice had woken up the sleeping Hedwig who was napping in the ceiling. The white owl squawked and screeched in indignation. Blaise had jumped at the sound, “What in Merlin’s name was that?”
“This is Hedwig, and she wants you to apologize.” Harry drawled back.
He was right, of course, the owl was very much glaring at the dark-skinned young man. “I am not apologizing to a bloody owl!” the boy exclaimed.
Hedwig’s glare just seemed to get even more intense until the boy relented, “Fine, I’m sorry, alright?”
The owl’s glared lessened and Hedwig just released a threatening bark and looked away ignoring Harry’s companion.
“That’s some intense owl,” Blaise muttered.
Harry smirked, “She’s a special one, my Hedwig. We need to change before we get to the station.”
Blaise nodded and the both of them started to change into their uniforms. Harry opened his trunk and put his book inside, as well as the chocolate frog that he had forgotten to eat. After he was done changing, he even put on the ridiculous pointy hat he was forced to buy and waited for the train to stop moving.
As the train stopped, Harry noticed that Blaise was somewhat pale, and he felt guilty enough to comfort the boy, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just worried about the sorting?”
“Why would you be worried?” Harry questioned, confused.
“How can you not be? My mother didn’t tell me how we’re sorted, only that it’s some kind of test.”
Harry snorted, “Don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine…”
The young Potter had forgotten that other people didn’t know about the sorting hat. Curiously, the hat was mentioned in most books regarding the school, but young students were very unlikely to read them. From the likes of it, parents choose not to inform their children as some sort of tradition, and Harry wasn’t about to ruin it.
“You know what it is, don’t you?” Blaise asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate,” Harry responded.
Harry didn’t wait for the boy to answer and exited the compartment with Hedwig standing proudly on his shoulder. He ignored his companion yelling out, “Potter! Come back here!” and left the train.
As soon as they left, he caressed his faithful owl, “I think it’s better for you to go ahead. I’ll need to do this alone.”
Hedwig gently nipped his earlobe and flew away. Before Harry could even ask himself where he was supposed to go, he heard a loud voice, “Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!”
He turned and saw a giant man holding a lantern, and Harry smiled to himself. It was time for his magical adventure to truly begin.
