He then turned to look at the redhead, who kept giving him curious glances before looking away, and opened his mouth to greet his fellow first year when the door to the compartment suddenly sprung open.
"Hey, Ron," one of the twins that had just barged into the room started. "Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train—Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."
Ron shuddered, "right."
The two twins than turned to Harry, a curious glint in their eyes.
"And who is this?" the other one asked.
For a moment, Harry thought about giving them a false name. He had no real desire to have what happened in the Leaky Cauldron happen here, even if it was on a much smaller scale. But he knew that if he did give a false name, he wouldn't really engender himself to them. Lying to people never did. And Harry hated lying anyway. Deciding that it was better to simply get this over with now rather than later, Harry introduced himself.
"Harry Potter."
The reaction he got was almost as comical as it was expected and annoying. Three sets of eyes widened to the proportion of dinner plates, and three jaws dropped.
"Are you really?" asked one of the older boys, the one on the left.
"As far as I know," Harry replied coolly. He wasn't really sure what to expect, granted, he'd created several plausible scenarios for what would happen when he gave people his name, but that didn't mean any of them would ring true. If there was one thing his first entrance into the wizarding world taught him, it was to expect the unexpected.
"So do you have the scar?"
Harry looked at the one on the right, George, he was sure his name was. After several seconds of staring at him intently, which Harry was pleased to note caused the boy to squirm a bit, he lifted the bangs covering his hair so they could see the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.
"Wicked," both older boys breathed as they looked at the scar that had become a symbol to the wizarding people. The younger redhead, Ron, simply stared at him with an open jaw and wide eyes.
"Well," the one on the left, Fred, Harry was sure, said. "It was awesome meeting a celebrity and all that, but George and I are going to head over to Lee's compartment."
Harry sighed in relief as the two left. That hadn't gone nearly as horribly as he imagined it would, though he was displeased to note that, despite his appearance to the contrary, he had been quite nervous. It was to be expected, after all, as the last time people learned his identity he'd been mobbed before he could even get a word in, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy this feeling of anxiousness.
"So you're really Harry Potter then?"
Blinking, Harry turned to look at the boy who had finally managed to snap out of his stupor.
"I am," Harry replied, his voice a bit less tense than it had been as he relaxed into his seat. "And you are?"
"Oh, I'm Ron, Ron Weasley," Ron introduced himself, and while Harry didn't give any reaction other than to nod, on the inside his mind was already going over everything he now knew about the boy. Or, to be more specific, it was going over everything he knew about the boy's family.
The Weasley family, according to Andromeda Tonks, was a very poor pureblood family with a lot of children. They were considered to be something of a joke amongst the more fanatical blood purists, and many of those who were considered 'dark families' felt that they were a bunch of blood-traitors, people who had betrayed the purity of their blood by consorting and sympathizing with muggles and muggleborns. On the plus side, they were a well known light-sided family firmly placed in Dumbledore's camp, and were related to the Prewett's, a now extinct yet once very powerful Ancient and Most Noble House. The Weasley Matriarch was the last of the Prewett line, from what he knew.
Harry's mind was already working out the advantages and disadvantages that would come from befriending the Weasley family. The biggest benefit, of course, was that any who associated with the Weasley's, namely, any light-sided families in Dumbledore's camp, would be on his side. The downside was that it would make getting an alliance with the so called 'darker' pureblood families very difficult.
Of course, the same could be said for gaining allegiance with one of the dark side families, something he was well aware of.
"So that scar is where..."
Harry's mind shifted gears when he heard the boy speak. He focused on Ron, who he noted with some disdain was still staring at where his scar was hidden by his bangs. He didn't blamed the boy. Meeting Harry Potter on a train heading for school was like meeting Sean Connery in a muggle shopping center.
"Yes," Harry answered quickly in the hopes that doing so would get the boy not to ask anymore questions. Just because he understood the boy's curiosity did not mean he had any desire to sate it. The mere mention of his scar brought that night to mind, the night he had lost his parents. He had a hard enough time when he dreamed about it; he didn't want to force himself to relive it during the day.
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