6.The Train Ride

By Merlin, he was bored, and the Hogwarts Express had not even left the muggle city yet. The nine-hour ride was already shaping up to be a mind-numbing experience.

Neither Crabbe nor Goyle made for a particularly engaging or exciting conversation partner. In fact, Crabbe was already asleep, and his annoying snores filled the compartment, while Goyle could be mistaken as a statute as he was blankly staring at the window while standing unnaturally still.

He almost regretted not seeking out Pansy, but she was just as annoying and probably in the company of the even more annoying Greengrass twins. He definitely regretted not taking his father’s advice about picking up the morning copy of the Daily Prophet.

Maybe he could play some explosive snap with Goyle, but while winning was always enjoyable, the boy was a dull and boring opponent.

As he contemplated his options, the compartment door opened, and he scowled when he saw who was in the hallway.

“Hello, cousin,” Juno Lestrange said with her melodic yet cold voice and gestured to the identical-looking girls beside her. “These are Hestia and Flora Carrow, my dear friends. I hope you don’t mind sharing your compartment with my companions and me.”

Merlin’s beard, what did he do to deserve this?!

Tall, long, raven curls framed her pale skin, perfect nose, sharp cheekbones, and pale blue eyes. Juno Lestrange always dressed and acted impeccably in public, making her well-liked despite her parents.

Draco Malfoy looked at the smiling expression on her face and was not fooled one bit. Her icy blue eyes were like daggers, stabbing into his skin, making him feel like his cousin could read him like an open book. And the worst part was, he knew that despite Juno’s outwardly peaceful appearance, she would love to hex him at the first opportunity like she always did before. Somehow, his cousin had procured herself a wand long before Hogwarts and was not afraid to use it. And, no matter how he complained about it to his parents, it always somehow turned out that he was in the wrong because Juno could charm them with a simple smile. And no matter how he asked for a wand of his own, they said it was too early!

It was not fair! A Malfoy was supposed to be the best, but his mother and father acted subserviently like ordinary lackeys in front of Arcturus Black and indulged Juno as if she were their prized daughter! Not only that, but Juno was the Black heiress despite being a girl because her mother was born first. It was supposed to be him!

Yet there was little Draco could do but keep the indignity to himself and avoid Juno like dragon pox. He had done that successfully for over a year and had begun to forget how tyrannical she could be. He would wait, bid his time, and expose Juno for who she truly was! But for now, he would lie low. It did not help that the Carrow twins were third-year if his memory was correct. Crabbe and Goyle stood no chance!

At that moment, he realised that he had given no reply. Juno’s smile had gone dangerously thin, and she had her wand in her hand, making him pale.

“Oh no, it would be a pleasure,” he said with a forced smile, but his face felt so stiff that it probably came out like a grimace.

Juno took the middle of the tapered seat, and the twins sat on her sides, giving Draco an opportunity to inspect them. Despite being third-year students, they were barely taller than Juno, sporting blank expressions, and they both had long, brown hair and one green and one blue eye.

Something about them made him shudder on the inside.

A Malfoy fears no one!

His father’s words of wisdom gave him strength, and he finally gathered his bearing and straightened his posture. Draco Malfoy definitely did not fear his cousin. Juno Bellatrix Lestrange was not scarier than before, not at all!

He gulped and gave a cursory glance to Crabbe and Goyle, who barely seemed to register the new people in the compartment with more than a glance, and in fact, Crabbe did not even deign to open his eyes. He compared his followers to his cousin’s minions. It was clear that they were lacking. Maybe it was time to write to his father and ask for better ones?

At that moment, his calf was painfully stung, and he jumped in surprise. While rubbing his throbbing calf, he saw Juno looking at him with profound disappointment while her wand disappeared into her sleeve.

“Ah, cousin. How could you?” She clicked her tongue while shaking her head. “I see Aunt Narcissa’s endless hours of trying to force simple manners into your thick head have been in vain. How could you forget to introduce your companions?”

He glared at Juno, but the dark wand that reappeared in her hand quickly made him reconsider his response. Draco had no desire to find out if she had learned more than the stinging hex in the last three years while he had been forbidden to cast before school. Maybe she did have a point…

“This is Gregory Goyle,” he pointed at the sleeping boy to his left with gritted teeth and then motioned to his other underling, who was still blankly staring at the window. “And this is Vincent Crabbe.”

His cousin finally gave a satisfied nod, grabbed a book from her trunk, and began reading. Draco couldn’t help but lament about the length of the train ride. He would rather feel bored than spend so much time in one compartment with his cousin…

A few minutes ticked by, and the silence became stifling. The idea of reading one of the schoolbooks was promptly dismissed; it was too dull.

“Where do you think you’ll be sorted?” He idly asked.

She closed her book and gave him an annoyed glare.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“What, are you considering going to Hufflepuff?” Draco was incredulous. “The only good House is Slytherin!”

“Not Hufflepuff. But Ravenclaw is also… adequate,” Juno hummed and glanced at Crabbe and Goyle. “Even trolls like Marcus Flint can get sorted in Slytherin nowadays.”

“Maybe,” he shrugged and fell into an uneasy silence.

At that moment, the compartment door was slammed open again, and an older girl entered. She looked like an older version of Juno, albeit with dark grey eyes and brown hair, making Draco blanch. One Juno was more than enough!

“Hello, cousins! Name’s Tonks,” she introduced herself with a flourish.

Oh god, it was the blood traitor’s daughter; he opened his mouth to tell her off-

Draco yelped with pain as he felt a brutal sting upon his hand, eliciting a concerned glance from Tonks.

“Andromeda’s daughter?” Juno politely asked while sending him a warning glance that made him swallow his remark.

“Yeah, that’s me,” the older girl beamed.

“You must excuse my cousin Draco. He often tends to forget his manners,” Juno’s cold eyes were like a pair of daggers as she gazed at him.

“Not a problem; I just wanted to see the other side of my family,” Tonks wistfully said. “Anyway, I need to finish my patrol. If you ever have trouble in Hogwarts or need help, feel free to look for me!”

Before Draco could blink, his blood-traitor cousin was gone, and the compartment door was closed.

Neither Crabbe nor Goyle nor the Carrow twins looked to have even reacted as if nobody had entered the compartment.

For a short moment, he contemplated trying to retaliate against his smug cousin, but at that moment, her smile grew predatory as if she could read his mind, and he suddenly remembered that he had not learned any spells yet…

“Why are you being so friendly with a blood traitor?” He finally grumbled at Juno.

His words elicited an amused snort.

“Were you dropped on your head as a baby, Draco?”

“What are you talking about? She’s just the daughter of an exiled muggle-loving blood traitor!”

“Foolish cousin of mine, you of all people should be glad that Andromeda shirked away from her betrothal since if she hadn’t, you would not be born as Aunt Narcissa would have never married Lucius.”

Her words gave him pause for a short moment as he had not known that, but he shook his head.

“Not a reason to associate with the rabble,” Draco deflected contemptuously.

“Use your brain, little dragon,” Juno chided as if speaking to a small child, making him scowl. “While she might be a half-blood, according to my sources, she is a metamorph like her elder brother. And she must be capable enough to become prefect – Nymphadora did come to us offering help, so we lose nothing by being polite. Did your father teach you nothing? There’s no need to look for enemies when there are none.”

“Have you become a blood traitor like our disowned Aunt, Juno?” He sneered, only for Juno to quietly mutter something while pointing her wand at his leg. Draco yelped in pain again and glared at her. “Stop this!”

“Make me,” She taunted before laughing coldly as he looked for support from Crabbe and Goyle, who were trying to disappear in their seats. “Blood traitor? What good does blood do for you when you’re not only spoiled but pathetic and useless, Draco?”

“My father will hear of this,” the threat left his lips before he knew it, and he paled.

Juno Bellatrix Lestrange smiled, and Draco felt ants crawl up his spine. His cousin always viciously retaliated against his threats and got away with it.

“Good, ickle cousin. Tell him how useless you are,” she grinned widely and threateningly pointed her wand in his direction. “I think I’ll keep this compartment for myself. Take your goons and get lost!”

Occlumency is an essential tool for any self-respecting warlock. Not only can you protect your mind with sufficient experience and practice, but you can also control your emotions and thus exert greater control over your magic. At the higher levels, you can even manipulate your own mind.

Many people make the mistake of stopping after a simple rudimentary proficiency, barely enough to protect their minds. Having the ability to feel an intrusion is only the first step to being able to force it out.

As with any other discipline taken to the extreme, Occlumency has further benefits. It helps you unveil the ability to control your mind and emotions, which would be a boon for any sorcerer. A mastered mind is hard to erase and even harder to control. But, as with anything else worthwhile, there are no shortcuts, and it requires extreme dedication.

For any practitioner of Dark Magic, excellent control of your magic is a must, lest you lose yourself in the alluring throes of temptation and be under the thrall of magic instead of its master.

The first step to protecting your mind is clearing it of all clutter; there are many ways to go about it. Here are the various methods that I’ve found effective-

Harry snapped the dairy closed after reading through the methods for the fiftieth time. At moments like these, he wanted to put his hands on the throat of a certain potions professor and throttle him to death. He had suspected, but now Harry had a clear confirmation that Snape had been highly unhelpful and simply took a sick pleasure in messing with him during the Occlumency lessons.

How hard was it to give useful instructions?

You’re to rid your mind of all emotions every night before you sleep, Potter!

Mighty helpful advice, especially without any direction on how to go about it. At least in potions, Snape had deigned to provide instructions on the board.

Eight, just this diary had listed eight different bloody exercises for clearing one’s mind, and more than half worked quite well for Harry. He did some every day he awoke and before he went to sleep. Simply forcing someone out of his mind with pain was no longer a viable tactic because his scar no longer hurt.

If nothing else, he had struck gold – the diary was a trove of information on Occlumency, and it worked. Harry had never felt as calm before, and he could feel that his emotions were not as overwhelming anymore. The owner had been very thorough in his observations and research. But Borgin had been right – there was far more than Occlumency in the diary. Rituals and Legilimency, for which he lacked talent. Harry had taken a glance at the information on the former and had quickly given up at the mention of blood and sacrifice. Following in Voldemort’s footsteps was definitely not what he wanted to do. The twisted visage of the bloodthirsty Dark Lord was not an image he could ever forget.

For a short moment, Harry idly wondered what Ron and Hermione were doing right now. Neither Ron had shown up at the door to look for a compartment to sit in, nor had Neville or Hermione passed by, looking for a toad. In fact, he had spotted Neville carrying an owl earlier…

He shook his head, returned the diary to the trunk, and took out the packed sandwiches Tom had graciously given him. Both Ron and Hermione would be perfectly fine on their own.

“Want one?” Harry offered.

“Thanks, but I’ve got my own lunch, and I’m not hungry,” Diana shook her head, and her amber eyes returned to reading the ‘Introduction to Ancient Runes’, the book he had lent her.

His stomach grumbled in hunger, and Harry hastily unwrapped the sandwich and began devouring it. As he was eating, his gaze moved to the young girl.

The muggle-born girl was short and thin like a leaf, and her long hair reminded him of burnished copper in colour. Coupled with her rather unique eyes, it made for a striking combination that was nearly impossible to forget. While Harry did not know everyone in Hogwarts, he knew all the muggle-borns in his year and was pretty sure there had not been any Diana Taylor before.

His new companion reminded Harry of himself, albeit more curious. Alone, completely new to the wizarding world and unsure what she was getting into. That was probably the main reason she was still in his compartment. He just couldn’t muster the energy to chase her away, and Diana did her very best to be unfailingly polite, even in her curiosity.

As the sandwich had disappeared, Harry attacked the second one.

In fact, he found Diana’s questions a pleasant distraction from his usual drudgery and found himself indulging her curiosity.

His gaze wandered towards the window where the roiling fields of cows and sheep sped past them as the remainder of his sandwich quickly disappeared. The lush landscape was so serene and peaceful that it made him wistful.

A great clattering slowly approached from the hallway, heralding the arrival of the trolley lady. A few moments later, the door slid open, revealing the familiar dimpled witch.

“Anything off the trolley, dears?”

Diana put down the book and hesitated for a few moments as her eyes roamed over the assortments of magical candies.

“I’ll take two of each,” she finally decided.

Harry ended up with a handful of chocolate frogs, and he quickly opened one as Diana looked at the sweets-covered seat next to her, undecided about which to try first.

“Hey-” the muggle-born girl froze while Harry bit off the head of the twitching chocolate frog. “Wait, why is it moving?!”

“Oh, they’re animated by magic,” he provided after swallowing. “Each of them comes with a card of a famous witch or wizard.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he grabbed the card that had remained with the discarded wrapping and showed it to her.

“Ptolemy?” Diana scrunched up her eyebrows. “His picture is moving too!”

“Wizarding pictures and portraits do that, and some can even talk,” Harry explained as the girl gaped in wonder. “Mirrors are often charmed to have your reflection speak too.”

“That’s weird,” she concluded with a huff. “But wasn’t Ptolemy an astronomer and a mathematician?”

“Well, he was,” Harry agreed with a chuckle as he looked at the moving picture of an ancient Greek wizard, and his eyes roamed over the description. “That’s what the muggles know him for. But as a wizard, he was also one of the pioneers of Arithmancy and a famed master of Astronomy.”

Diana grabbed one of her chocolate frogs and unwrapped it.

“I got Morgana,” she looked curiously at the card. “What do people do with these anyway?”

“They collect and trade them. There’s like a few hundred different cards, and some are quite rare.”

The Morgana card went into her jeans pocket, and she made short work of the chocolate frog in seconds, making him snort internally. Not hungry, indeed!

“Tastes like normal chocolate,” she noted with a tinge of disappointment and curiously opened a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.

“Hey, have you tried these before?” The girl fished out a turquoise candy and threw it in her mouth.

“Yes, but-“

“Blergh!” Diana spat the half-chewed bean out and began coughing hard. She hastily pulled over a small leather bag, fished out a bottle of water, opened it and took greedy gulps. “Disgusting! Who in their right mind would put spinach-flavoured candy!”

“They’re called Every Flavour Beans for a reason,” Harry dryly replied. “I’ve heard there’s every taste from toothpaste to vomit.”

Diana quickly tossed the bag of Berti Beans as if they were on fire and took a few more generous gulps from her bottle of water.

“Wizards are odd,” she stated and grimaced when she took a bite of the pumpkin pasty. “I think I’ll stick to the chocolate.”

“The licorice wands and cauldron cakes are not bad,” he offered with a shrug. Harry was not the biggest fan of pumpkin, but he had gotten used to the taste after drinking the juice for years.

The pumpkin pasty was returned to its wrapper and, together with most of the other sweets, was shoved into Diana’s bag as she unwrapped her second chocolate frog and stared at the card.

“I thought these cards only have famous witches and wizards?”

“Well, yeah, they do.”

“Who’s Voldemort, and what’s a Killing Curse?” Diana asked curiously, and Harry had a bad premonition.

“Voldemort’s a dark wizard, and the Killing Curse is an illegal spell that kills without a trace,” the words tumbled out of his mouth slowly, heavy with apprehension. He did not like where this was going.

“Harry James Potter, also known as the Boy Who Lived, a monicker earned as the only person to ever survive the Killing Curse as a young baby, also vanquished the Dark Lord Voldemort after he had slain his parents on All Hallows’ Eve of 1981,” she read out loud, and Harry found his blood run cold. “But there seems to be no picture, just an empty silhouette with glasses and a lightning bolt scar on his face.”

“May I see the card?” Harry politely requested as his heart was beating like a drum. Diana handed it to him, and there it was.

Something that had not happened in his previous world.

A chocolate frog card of Harry James Potter, whose greatest achievement was that his mother sacrificed herself so her son could live. He stared blankly at the empty place where the portrait was supposed to be with mixed feelings. It was a small mercy that his visage was not plastered there for all to gawk at. He found his anger beginning to bubble, closed his eyes, took a deep breath and tried to do a breathing exercise from the diary.

Surely enough, a few moments later, he felt his fury slowly beginning to ebb away.

“Hey, are you fine?” He opened his eyes to see Diana looking at him with concern.

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Harry mumbled, quickly returning the card to the muggle-born girl. “Just bad memories.”

“Do you know what this dark lord-wizard business is?” She asked with worry as the card went into her pocket. “Professor McGonagall never mentioned any of this.”

“Well,” he paused for a short moment, unsure what to say. “Witches and wizards are not different from muggles. There are some good and some bad. Voldemort’s one of the worst.”

“Then it’s a relief he’s gone,” she noted, and Harry couldn’t help but grimace. “There’s wizard police to deal with things like this, right?”

“Well, they’re called Aurors, but I heard they’re not very good.”

Diana watched as the sun slowly crawled towards the western horizon, and the clouds gained an orange hue. The wizarding world was shaping into an interesting, albeit quite odd, place. From what she had read about magic, it defied all logic and physics and operated entirely on its own rules. And it was as if that fact was imprinted on the wizards and witches. Who in their right mind would make a candy taste like spinach, let alone eat it?!

Then there was her new friend. Harry was not only knowledgeable but patiently answered all of her questions, no matter how silly, and she now had a better idea about both the magical world and Hogwarts. She admired his patience – Diana had half expected him to snap at her or ignore her at some point, but he did not. At times, it felt that she was talking to an adult, not a boy her age.

But then again, she had never met someone who had lost their parents. If anything could force someone to grow up faster, that would definitely be near the top of the list.

Not only that, but her new friend seemed to be a bit too… wound up. Diana noticed how he would sometimes twitch at a sudden noise or that his eyes darted around the compartment. It did not escape her attention that he never offered his family name, but she did not want to ask either, especially after discovering that his parents were dead. Diana was not going to stick her nose where it did not belong!

As the train ride progressed, she noted that the tension slowly had left his body.

In fact, Harry was now quietly napping, dressed in that plain black sweater of his. His sharp face was peaceful, and he almost looked adorable with his cold demeanour gone. Diana would think him dead if it was not for the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest.

At that moment, a movement near his arm drew her attention, and she froze when she saw a small, pitch-black triangular head poke out of his sleeve curiously. Diana barely resisted the urge to scream for her life at the sight of what looked like a little snake. It was not doing anything other than looking around curiously with its onyx eyes.

Maybe this was… normal for wizards?!

Diana doubted that Harry had somehow missed a snake lounging around his sleeve, but if he did, he had not seemed bothered one bit. She carefully approached under the wary gaze of the serpent, reached out with her hand, and nudged her companion on his knee before quickly retreating. Harry instantly shuffled and blearily opened his eyes.

“We there yet?”

She would have chuckled at his drowsy manner if not for the situation.

“Err, did you know you have a snake in your sleeve?”

Any trace of sleepiness quickly evaporated from his face, and Harry’s green eyes squinted in displeasure as he carefully raised his arm and gazed at the black snakelet dangling from his wrist.

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered unhappily before sighing heavily and nodding towards the small serpent. “This is Nyx.”

Under her disbelieving gaze, he unceremoniously shoved the snake back into his sleeve as it hissed in protest.

“What if it bites you? Is it venomous?” Diana cautiously prodded.

“Well, Nyx is a she and is completely harmless, besides being a tad too curious for her own good.” Diana decided to chalk off the oddity as something normal for wizards. “Though, please keep her a secret – snakes aren’t well-liked in the wizarding world.”

“Sure,” she promised with a solemn nod. Keeping secrets was her forte! “But I thought the school list said you can only bring a frog, cat, or an owl?”

“Other pets are allowed with the permission of your Head of House,” Harry absentmindedly replied. “As long as it’s not too dangerous or outrageous, it’d probably be allowed.”

That was neat; she would totally bring Snowball with her next time.

“You never mentioned how we choose in which House to go,” Diana curiously noted, but then she couldn’t help but fidget uneasily. “Is it some test? Oh my gosh, I haven’t studied at all!”

Nor could she do any magic…

“No, nothing like that,” Harry snorted with amusement. “The sorting is supposedly a secret, but nothing hard. I still haven’t heard of any student being turned away, so there’s nothing to fear.”

A sigh of relief left her mouth. And indeed, her new friend did not look concerned one bit, but he was quite brilliant.

“Which House do you think is best, then?”

For the first time, Harry was not quick to answer her question. The minutes passed as he sat there, brow furrowed in deep thought.

“No House is good or bad, but I’d avoid Slytherin and Gryffindor if I were you,” he cautiously replied.

“Well, what’s wrong with those two houses?”

“There’s a fierce rivalry between them. I heard it’s very annoying if you get dragged into it,” Harry grimaced for a moment. “Especially if you’re serious about your studies, you’d be better off choosing Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Gryffindor is a noisy, boisterous house, while Slytherin is full of pureblood wizards, and any muggle-borns would be ostracised. The eagles have their own library, and I heard that in the Ravenclaw dorms, you’d room alone instead of sharing with others.”

Before she could reply, a voice echoed through the train: “We will be reaching Hogsmeade station in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to school separately.”

“We should put on our robes,” Harry said, removing the school robe from the trunk and pulling it over his sweater.

Diana could feel her insides twist uncomfortably with apprehension, and she felt too nervous to speak. She followed Harry’s example, donned the robe, and silently gazed into the now-dark landscape outside as the train slowed.