A/N: I tried to make the train scene as similar to the book as possible, but since I don't have the book with me, I apologize for any major mistakes. Please enjoy!
The Hogwarts Express was, indeed, a place where some of the first magic a child could experience would happen. Some witness their first magical creature, or see to arguing friends jinx each other into strange shapes. Others, like Harry Potter, meet magical people.
The chairs, Harry decided, were quite comfortable. He'd never been in a train before (the Dursleys never took him on trips), therefore he had nothing to compare it to. Nonetheless, his back didn't hurt, nor did his rear, despite the fact that he'd been sitting in that same spot for a while. He didn't know what to expect, or how to reach out. Eleven years it had been, where he had thought he was merely a young boy, even if strange things did happen around him. His life; however, had recently been turned around.
Harry Potter was a wizard.
Considering the brief amount of time he had prior to his first wizarding school experience, and his lack of knowledge of the wizarding world, he was at a complete loss of how to make friends, or even function in this new environment. As the anxiety rose, he was – gratefully - interrupted by tap on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw a boy his age with bright red hair, and a bashful grin spreading across his face.
"Nervous?" said Ron Weasley, his first wizarding friend whom he had met earlier at the train station.
Harry laughed shakily, "Yeah."
"Don't worry mate, my brothers say Hogwarts is great, you know, once you get used to it. You grew up with muggles, right?"
"Muggles? Oh, yeah, I – um—my aunt and uncle. Muggles."
Ron nodded his head as if he were a doctor assessing the state of his patient, "There's plenty of muggle-born witches and wizards, though. I guess you're kind of like one of them."
One of them, Harry thought. He remembered the phrase from the blond boy he'd met at the robe shop. His eyebrows pulled together for a moment at the thought. "Do people not like muggle-borns?" he asked.
Ron bit his lip, "Some people don't. My family's okay with 'em. Guess they can't be too bad."
Harry nodded, suddenly fearing his mental reputation of the blond boy from the robe shop, and strived to change the topic, "Hey, have you learned any magic yet? Are wizard kids allowed to do magic?"
"Well, no, but I've seen my family do magic. I know this one spell its—"
Apparently, Harry hadn't needed to change the subject on his own accord, for a brisk voice was heard to their side just moments after Ron had begun his answer, "Have either of you seen a toad? His name is Trevor."
Harry and Ron both looked around to no avail, "Er, no," Harry answered the girl at their compartment door. She huffed, putting her fists onto her hips.
"Very well," she said, waltzing into their compartment and taking a seat beside Ron. "I'm Hermione, and you are…?"
Ron and Harry looked at each other, "I'm Ron Weasley," he announced, and Harry followed, "I'm Harry Potter."
Hermione's eyes widened, "I've read about you!" her eyes went up to where his hair covered the scar on his forehead, and Harry took that as a command to reveal it. He used his hand to push up the dark hair that covered his forehead, causing Hermione to look even more surprised.
As the silence prevailed, Ron took the opportunity to continue their interrupted conversation. "So anyway, that spell – "
"Wait, are you going to try doing magic?" Hermione loudly interjected.
Ron frowned at her obvious rudeness, "Yeah, I was, and if you—"
"Well go on then," He interrupted again.
Ron huffed, and muttered something that sounded like, "Alright then, alright," and raised his wand. He spoke an enchantment, and Harry felt his glasses jump.
Hermione yelped, "Now look what you've done! Complete incompetence. Harry, come here, he's cracked your glasses."
Harry looked around anxiously, and scooted so that he was positioned directly across from the girl. She nodded and raised her wand, "Reparo!" she said, and he felt his glasses twitch again. From the satisfied grin on her face, he reckoned the spell had worked. Harry ran his fingers across the glass and, not feeling any cracks, confirmed his theory. "Er, thanks." He said.
For the second time, Harry and Ron were interrupted. This time, not by an overly arrogant girl, but by an equally arrogant boy – the blond one Harry had met at Madame Malkin's Robe Shop.
The boy looked at him with a slight smile on his angelic, yet somehow dangerous face, "So it's true then?" he inquired excitedly, "Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts? I knew you were different when I met you. This is Crabbe, that's Goyle, and I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Harry was about to take it, deciding it was wrong to judge based on their previous encounter, when he heard Ron's stifled giggles behind him.
"You think my name's funny, do you?" Draco Malfoy barked hotly, dropping his hand. "I have no need to even ask yours; red hair and second hand robes? You must be a Weasley." He smirked and looked back to Harry, "You'll learn which families are worth being associated with," he held out his hand again, "and it's not his."
"I like him," Harry retorted.
Draco Malfoy turned his head to look up and down Ron's form, "If you say so, Potter." With a smirk and a slight twitch of the eyebrows, he turned with his two accomplices and began to walk away.
Ron was the one who had laughed at Draco Malfoy's name. Maybe this boy was just nervous…but he had spoken rather arrogantly to Harry on the day in the robe shop… Maybe he'd never met a muggle-born before? Harry was just as good as a muggle-born, even Ron had said so, and Draco Malfoy seemed to want to befriend him! His particular form of arrogance, Harry guessed, was due to his need to impress Harry. Harry smiled inwardly at the strange prospect of his fame.
"Draco – er – Draco Malfoy!" he called after the blond head. Draco Malfoy looked back at him, eyebrows raised. "Potter – er – Harry Potter!" he mimicked jokingly. Harry closed the space between them with a few steps, and held out his own hand with a smile. Draco Malfoy, looking smug and pleased, took it, and shook it three times.
"See you at the sorting…Harry." He said, and beckoned his friends to follow him back to their compartment. Harry, for some reason, could not wait to talk to Draco Malfoy again.