HARRY POTTER
AND THE PRINCE OF SLYTHERIN

Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

Chapter 5: Introductions on a Train

Not long after, the Potter family made its way through the entrance at Kings Crossing. They were delayed for a bit as both James and Jim had to glad-hand with various friends and hangers-on. A shy chubby kid named Longbottom was there with his grandmother (a stern-looking old biddy with what appeared to be a stuffed vulture mounted on her head) and his rather creepy-looking uncle who kept lecturing the boy about "not losing his toad." Harry actually assumed that was some strange magical euphemism until the boy pulled an actual toad out of a pocket to prove he still had it. Harry shrugged and shook his head. The ginger kid from Madam Malkins was also there, along with a small army of relatives, including another set of identical twins who seemed to idolize James Potter for his former juvenile delinquency and a young girl whose eyes were fixed on Jim with breathless adoration.

Oh, and they had to stop for pictures, as the Daily Prophet was on hand to chronicle the Boy-Who-Lived as he started off for Hogwarts and so wanted pictures of him and his parents standing next to the train. This was apparently something the Potters were used to, so much so in fact that they completely forgot about Harry ... again. So did most everyone else, as a photographer nearly knocked him down. After a few minutes, he leaned over to Longbottom's grandmother (who at least had the decency to seem appalled on his behalf at how the Potters were acting) and asked her to let his parents know he'd went ahead to find a seat.

Once aboard, Harry deliberately sought a compartment near the rear of the train, hoping it might take a while for Jim to find him. After the train pulled out, he sat alone for twenty minutes reviewing his copy of Dilworth's Guide to Wizarding Etiquette before the door opened, and a bushy-haired girl stepped into his compartment.

"Excuse me, but by any chance have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville has lost his."

"Blond first year? Yeah, I noticed them both on the platform before we left, but I haven't seen either him or his toad since." Harry thought for a moment. "You should ask one of the prefects. I think there's a summoning charm that should help, but it will be years before we're expected to know it. The incantation is Accio but I don't know the wand movements. Or if that doesn't work, I'm sure they know some kind of detection spell that would help."

"Oh, that is a good idea, thank you." Then, her eyes lit up. "Is that a book on wizarding etiquette? How interesting!" And then the girl was off, rattling off a startling number of personal details – how much she liked reading, how she was the first witch in her family and hoped she wouldn't be disadvantaged by that, how she'd read every single textbook assigned to First Years and even done a few spells, how her parents were both dentists – all on a single breath, before finally pausing to say "Oh, I'm sorry. I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter. A pleasure to meet you."

"Potter? By any chance are you related to Jim Potter?"

Harry took a breath, and his fake smile slide back into place. Interestingly, Hermione Granger seemed a bit more astute than any of the Potters, and her face registered a mild concern, as if she'd just said something rude but wasn't sure what.

"Yes. He's my brother."

"Really? I've read several books about him and none of them mention him having a twin brother."

"I know. I've been living with relatives since I was a baby for ... reasons."

"... reasons?"

Harry paused and sighed. "Miss Granger, two things. First, I just found out about my parents, my brother and this whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' thing about a month ago. Which, I have to say, is a bit of a sore subject right now and, no offense, one I don't wish to discuss with someone I've just met."

Hermione blushed. "I understand. I apologize for any offense."

"None taken."

"And the other thing?"

Harry hesitated. "Well, now I'm worried that I might offend you. I promise I don't mean to but ... You say you've read all the text books already. Have you read any books on wizarding etiquette?"

Hermione stiffened at the preemptive apology but then was intrigued by his question. "No, no I haven't. There weren't any mentioned on the list we were given and it didn't occur to me to ask. I mean, other than the magic, Hogwarts is still just another British boarding school, isn't it? It's not like we're moving to Japan or Dubai or someplace that different."

"Actually, I've been cramming for the last month, and from what I've pieced together, it's a lot like moving to a foreign country. See, there's this thing called the Statute of Secrecy that was enacted about 300 years ago that requires near-total separation between wizards and Muggles, and Wizarding Britain takes it really seriously. That's three centuries in which most wizards ignored what Muggles were doing as much as possible. Most wizards don't know much about TV and movies and nothing at all about computers or the space program. With magic, you can instantly fix cavities and other tooth-related issues, so most wizards probably won't know what a dentist is or, if they've heard the word, will probably assume your parents yank teeth out with rusty pliers and no anesthetic. Now, I don't mean to say the wizarding world as backwards. It's actually a lot more progressive than the Muggle world in some ways but weirdly formal in others. For example, wizards don't have any problems at all with the idea of a woman in a position of high authority like Minister of Magic or Chief Warlock, but a lot of them seem to get really touchy if you don't properly refer to a woman as Madame if she's married and Miss if she's not. In a lot of ways, I think going away to school in Japan or Dubai might involve less culture shock than where we're headed."

Hermione sat down with a concerned look on her face. "I suppose it might," she said slowly. "Is that why you made a point of calling me Miss Granger?"

Harry held up his copy of Dilworth's. "There's a whole chapter in here on when it is or is not appropriate to call someone by their first name. My impression is that to most people, it doesn't matter ... but to the wizards and witches who run the country, it matters a lot."

The girl nodded at that. "But why did you think I might be offended at that?"

"Well, you're obviously smart, but you are obviously proud of your Muggle heritage. Which is fine! My, um, mother was a Muggleborn and she's a Hogwarts professor teaching Muggle Studies. Being Half-Blooded and Muggle-raised myself, I don't have any problem at all with Muggleborns. But the last Wizarding War – the one that ended when Jim Potter destroyed You-Know-Who – was started by Purebloods who wanted to kill all the Muggleborns because of a crazy belief that they were somehow stealing magic away from Pureblood children. And the Wizarding War before that was started by Purebloods who wanted to conquer the Muggle world outright because they thought wizards were just naturally superior and it was only proper that we should rule over the Muggles for their own good. I certainly don't think you should hide your Muggle heritage, just as I don't plan to. But I think our time at Hogwarts might be a lot less enjoyable if we don't address the fact that, well, we're the outsiders here."

The two continued to talk for a good five minutes. About what little they both knew about wizarding politics and history. About the incredibly vague definitions of Pureblood, Halfblood, and Muggleborn. About the vast number of unwritten rules that mark Muggleborns as outsiders. About how in the otherwise highly secular Wizarding Britain, it was a horrible faux pas to take the Lord's name in vain, so most people use "Merlin!" as a generic expletive.

"Honestly," said Harry. "I only care about this stuff because ... well, because my father, James Potter, is from a very old Pureblood family. And someday, Merlin willing, I'll inherit his seat in the Wizengamot, so I'm trying not to accidentally insult anyone important needlessly."

"Merlin... willing," she repeated while shaking her head. "That's going to take getting used to. Any other major blunders I should avoid making? Bearing in mind that I don't plan on changing my principles just to appease bigots."

"Me neither. And like I said, I don't think most wizards care about etiquette unless you do something very offensive or the wizard is a Pureblood from a very old family, but better safe than sorry." Harry thought for a second. "Oh, here's a big one that's important to us since we're just now starting school. Never raise your hand in class."

"What?!" Hermione said incredulously.

"Well, more specifically, never raise your hand in class unless you're asking the teacher a question or they have clearly asked for a volunteer, usually after someone else has tried to answer and flubbed it. Whenever the teacher first asks a question, he usually has someone specific that he plans on asking but is just giving the student a few seconds to prepare an answer. My ... my mother was very specific about this. Apparently, when she was a First Year, she was treated as an outcast and couldn't figure out why. Finally, someone took pity and told her that raising her hand every single time the teacher asked a question implied that she thought her classmates were too dumb to know the answer if called upon."

"Wow," she said. "I would never have considered it like that if you hadn't explained it to me!" She blushed slightly. "Before Hogwarts, I went to a gifted school where classroom participation was a big part of the grade. I'd have made a complete fool of myself if I'd gone into Hogwarts with the same attitude."

Harry nodded sagely. "There's a lot of fiddling stuff like that can cause newcomers to this world like us to stick out like a sore thumb if we're not careful. Basically, Miss Granger, you and I are about to start our first year at Oxbridge, you as a scholarship student, me as a legacy raised abroad, and neither one of us having been raised to know anything about Oxbridge culture."

Hermione looked down at the floor. It was a lot to take in. "Do you think, Har... Mr. Potter, that I'll be discriminated against because my parents are Muggles?"

Harry hesitated. "I'm ... not sure. Personally, I reckon I'll be treated like an outsider to some degree, at least at the start, and I'll have to figure out to react from there. I'm sure some people will be biased against both of us because of our heritage. Of course, not everyone will feel that way, and even the bigots will hopefully be somewhat restrained since their side lost the last war." He paused. "Have you thought about what House you want into?"

"I was hoping for Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Why? Do they have different attitudes towards Muggleborns?"

"Well, all I really know on that topic is what my parents told me, so take this with a grain of salt. A lot of Slytherins followed You-Know-Who during the last war, and I'm sure some of their children will be among our peers, so I'd expect them to be hostile to Muggleborns and probably to the brother of the Boy-Who-Lived. Not all I hope, but it's to be expected. The Ravenclaws are the most academically focused, so you might like that, but they're very traditional and have a reputation for elitism, so it might be kind of cutthroat. The Hufflepuffs pride themselves on tolerance and accepting everyone, but the price they pay for it is to be looked down upon by the other Houses as lacking standards. My father called them the House of Duffers, but I doubt that's true, seeing as how there have been more Hufflepuff Ministers of Magic than any other House. Surprisingly, my birth mother said that Muggleborns do best in Gryffindor. They're the closest thing to a House of Rebels we'll find, and apparently they embrace Muggleborns and Halfbloods just to thumb their noses at traditionalist Purebloods. They're also the ones least interested in formality and etiquette so they'll be more forgiving of minor social mistakes. Of course, she was a Gryffindor herself, so she might be biased."

Hermione rose. "Well, you've given me a lot to think about, Mr. Potter. But I suppose I'd better go and find Neville ... Mr. Longbottom, I mean, and see what luck he's had with his toad." She turned at the door. "Mr. Potter, what books would you recommend to learn more about what we talked about?"

Harry smiled, genuinely this time, and he rattled off the names of three etiquette books. "If they don't have those in the Hogwarts library, just ask and I'll let you borrow my copies."

"Thank you." She paused while trying to remember how the people in Pride and Prejudice talked to one another. "And Mr. Potter, if I am not being presumptuous in saying, I would be gratified if you would call me Hermione," she said with a smile of her own.

Harry laughed. "You are not being presumptuous at all, Hermione. And I would be equally pleased if you called me Harry."

She nodded and left the compartment, as Harry returned to his etiquette book, pleased at having made his first tentative friendship. About ten minutes later, the door flew open and Jim entered, along with the red-headed boy Harry had encountered twice before.

"Hey, there you are!" exclaimed Jim. "I've been looking for you for ages. This is Ron Weasley. He'll be in our class. Ron, this is my brother, Harry!"

"Good to meet you, Harry," said Ron enthusiastically.

"Likewise," said Harry blandly. Internally, he thought "Oh, yeah, definitely Gryffindor." Out loud, he said "Actually, I think we've already met. We were getting fitted together at Madame Malkin's."

"Oh, yeah! I remember you. You should have told me you were Jim's brother!"

"Well, I'd just found ... never mind. Let's just say it was a stressful day and I didn't think about it."

"Well anyway," said Jim, dropping into the seat next to Harry, with Ron opposite them. "I'm sorry we got caught up with those photographers. It's a pain sometimes. But Ron here introduced me to his brothers and they introduced me to the Gryffindor Quidditch team." He paused. "Say, do you know anything about Quidditch, Harry?"

"Not much. I know it's a strange combination of water polo, dodgeball, and capture the flag but played in the air on high speed flying broomsticks."

"Oookaay. I don't know what any of those are. But don't worry. Dad was an awesome chaser when he was in school, and he got me my first practice broom for my fourth birthday. We'll get you up to speed in no time."

Harry, who had spent his fourth birthday learning how to cook bacon and scrambled eggs for the Dursley's (with the threat of a frying pan to the head if anything was burnt), smiled that painful smile again. "I'm looking forward to it."

Suddenly, the compartment doors opened again, and yet another person barged in. This one was a thin, blond boy with aristocratic features. Behind him out in the corridor stood two stocky boys who would probably grow into hulking brutes within five years.

"I was told that James Potter, Jr., the Boy-Who-Lived, was in this car," said the newcomer imperiously. "Is it true?"

"He is," said Harry with some bemusement. "And you are?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy." Jim and Ron both sniggered at the boy's pomposity, but for some reason, he focused his ire solely on Ron. "I can tell what family you belong to. Red hair. Freckles. Hand-me-down robes. Undoubtedly a Weasley," he sneered.

Both Ron and Jim turned red in anger, while Harry's eyes narrowed. He recognized the name Malfoy and was quite surprised by how rudely the scion of such an important House was acting. Not to mention the oddly specific insults Malfoy had made towards someone he obviously didn't know before just now.

Ignoring Ron, Draco turned back to Harry but was surprised to finally notice that there were two very similar looking boys in the car. He made a guess and hoped it wasn't the one a chocolate stain on his shirt who was presently giving him an angry glare. "So, are you James Potter?" he asked the more reputable looking one.

Harry shook his head and pointed at Jim who had stood up and moved threateningly close to Draco. The two thugs outside tensed and readied themselves for a fight. "I'm Jim Potter," he said. "What's it to you?"

Draco held his hands up to show he meant no threat. "Potter, please. I apologize if I offended you in any way. But you're a national icon and the Heir to an Ancient and Noble House. You're obviously going to need help finding the right sort of friends. I can help steer you away from the wrong crowd." From Draco's posture, it was clear "the wrong crowd" included Ron, whose face twisted into a mask of anger.

"I can find the right sort of friend without your help, Death Eater," sneered Jim.

Draco's eyes narrowed, while Harry watched the display, idly wishing he'd brought popcorn. "Obviously, there is no possibility of me being a Death Eater since I'm eleven. And if you refer to my father, then you should remember that the Wizengamot found him not guilty. So you should speak a little more thoughtfully, Potter, unless you wish to be sued for slander."

"Oh, come off it, Malfoy!" said Ron contemptuously. "Your family is as Slytherin as they come, and there's never been a dark wizard who wasn't a slimy Slytherin, from You-Know-Who to Grindelwald all the way back to Salazar Slytherin himself."

"Oh, well that's just nonsense," snapped Harry irritably. "First of all, no one knows what house You-Know-Who was in or even if he went to Hogwarts, and Grindelwald definitely went to Durmstrang. Yes, most of the convicted Death Eaters were Slytherins, but there were also Death Eaters from other Houses. Barty Crouch Jr. was a Ravenclaw, and Sirius Black, You-Know-Who's lieutenant, was a Gryffindor. And anyway, the worst Dark Lord to have ever attended Hogwarts was Emeric the Evil back in the 14th Century, and he actually claimed that it was his Gryffindor nature that gave him the courage to defy all mundane standards of decency and morality."

The other boys in the compartment looked at Harry as if he'd grown a second head.

"Um, you sure know a lot about dark wizards," said Ron.

Harry shrugged. "It was all in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts." He turned to look at Jim. "I bought it to read the section about you and You-Know-Who, but it had chapters on all the other major British dark wizards since the founding of Hogwarts. Admittedly, most were Slytherins, but Gryffindor and Ravenclaw have each had plenty dark wizards, and even the Hufflepuffs have produced one in the last five centuries."

Draco stared at him in confusion. "Who are you? Since when has the Boy-Who-Lived had a twin brother?"

Harry stood up to look Draco in the eye. "Since birth, obviously. And you were mistaken earlier. I, Harry Potter, am Heir Presumptive to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. And while I will not be as blunt as my brother, I must tell you, Mr. Malfoy, that you have made a bad first impression. I think it would be best if you leave before things escalate into something ... unpleasant."

Draco studied Harry carefully. "So be it." Then, he left the compartment and headed down the corridor, minions in tow. Jim turned to grin at Harry.

"That was awesome, Har! 'Leave before things escalate into something ... unpleasant.' Wicked. I bet if you talked to those Muggles like that, they wouldn't give you any problems at all."

Harry's head snapped towards Jim, and his eyes lit up as if he'd been slapped. To his side, Ron asked what Jim had meant about "Muggles" but his voice sounded strangely far away. Jim, suddenly unnerved, looked back and forth between Harry and Ron before he finally spoke.

"It's nothing, Ron. Forget I mentioned it. Hey, Har? You want to learn to play Exploding Snap?"

Harry studied his brother as if examining a bug. Then, he considered the question. Not the question of "do you want to learn to play Exploding Snap?" but the much more pressing question of "do you want to spend the next seven years pretending to smile when you'd rather snarl or scream?" And he made his decision.

"Actually, right now, I'd like to go find the loo," he said brightly. "I assume this train has one if the ride is six hours long."

"Oh yeah," said Jim. "We passed the restrooms on the way here. Just follow in the direction the three mini-Death Eaters went."

"Thanks, Jim." Harry stepped past his brother and out the door, closing it behind him. He walked a few feet down the corridor and then, on impulse, crept back to the edge of the compartment he'd just left. Then, he listened.

"No offense, Jim, but your brother is a little weird."

"I know. When he was a baby, Mum and Dad thought he was going to be a squib, so they sent him to live with Muggle relatives. Apparently, they were kind of mean to him and he blames our parents. He's being a right baby about it to be honest, but Mum insisted I stay close to him until he gets over his anger. Whatever."

Harry exhaled very slowly. Then, he turned and moved quickly down the corridor and into the next car. Malfoy and his as-yet unnamed goons were up ahead. "Mr. Malfoy!" he called out.

Malfoy stopped and turned as Harry walked up to the trio. "What do you want, Potter? I thought you'd made your feelings quite clear."

"I did. And, to be fair, Malfoy, you did make a poor first impression. Happily, I don't make snap judgments based on first impressions. And while I can also decide for myself who the 'right sort of people' are, I won't be influenced by my father and brother's biases in the process. Now, I don't know yet where I'll be Sorted, but I hope you and I can have, at the very least, an amiable relationship regardless of our Sortings. We are the future of our respective families, after all."

"I find it unlikely, Potter, that there can ever be an amiable association between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor."

"Then we're in luck, Malfoy. Because I think it's highly unlikely that either of us is going to be a Gryffindor." And then, Harry stuck out his hand, and after a second of hesitation, Draco took it.

Seven hours later, the Sorting Hat whispered into Harry Potter's head. "Oh good. I was afraid you were going to be difficult about this." And then, in a booming voice, it yelled out ...

"SLYTHERIN!"

Updated on 8/28/2016, hopefully to make the Harry/Hermione scene into less of a clumsy info-dump.