The Hogwarts Express chugged along the tracks, its rhythmic movement lulling some students into quiet conversations while others gazed out the window at the passing countryside. The soft hum of chatter filled the compartments, but within one in particular, silence lingered.
Clark sat back comfortably, his arms crossed as he watched the girl in front of him. Hermione Granger, as he already knew, was sneaking glances at him from behind her thick book.
He smirked. "Hi."
Hermione visibly stiffened, her fingers gripping the edge of the page a little too tightly. It was clear she wasn't used to social interactions. She hesitated for a second, then shut her book with an audible snap.
"Are you… Harry Potter?" she asked, her voice carrying a mix of uncertainty and excitement.
Clark—Harry, as he was known here—tilted his head, feigning mild surprise. "Yeah, that's me."
Hermione let out a breath, her face lighting up. "I thought so! I mean, I read about you in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. You're practically famous! Everyone knows about the night You-Know-Who disappeared and—"
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "You really shouldn't believe everything you read, you know."
Hermione blinked, startled by his casual dismissal. "But… all those books said—"
"They said a lot of things," Harry interrupted, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping just enough to sound conspiratorial. "Do you know how governments work, Hermione?"
The girl frowned, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. "Well, I suppose they—"
"They need heroes," Harry said simply. "After the war, people were scared. They needed someone to rally behind, someone to believe in. So, the Ministry created one."
Hermione looked skeptical, but he could see the gears turning in her mind. She was smart—he liked that.
"But," she said slowly, "there were witnesses that night. Dumbledore—"
"There were only three people there that night," Harry interrupted, his tone quieter now, almost somber. He held up three fingers. "One is dead. One is in a coma." He lowered one finger. "And the last one is sitting right in front of you."
Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, her brown eyes searching his face.
"My mother—Lily Potter," Harry continued, looking out the window as if lost in thought, "was hit with a curse that didn't kill her, but left her in a state no one could fix. My father… he didn't make it."
He let the words hang in the air, giving them weight. Then, with a sigh, he turned back to Hermione. "I was taken to my mother's sister's house—Petunia Dursley. You'd think they'd treat me well, right? Family and all?"
Hermione nodded hesitantly.
"They locked me in a cupboard under the stairs," Harry said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "They barely fed me. They hit me. They made sure I knew I was freak every single day of my life."
Hermione's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, Harry…" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
"The Ministry didn't care," Harry continued. "Dumbledore didn't care. I was just 'The Boy Who Lived' to them. A symbol. Not a real person."
Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes. Without thinking, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug.
Harry froze for a moment, feeling the warmth of her body against his own. He allowed himself a small, satisfied smirk before quickly schooling his expression into something more vulnerable.
"I'm so sorry," Hermione murmured against his shoulder.
Harry let a few seconds pass before he gently pulled away. Hermione immediately flushed, realizing what she had done.
"I—I didn't mean to—" she stammered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I just… I can't believe they treated you like that. That's awful."
"It is what it is," Harry said with a small shrug, though his eyes gleamed with something unreadable.
Hermione took a steadying breath, as if willing herself to remain composed. Then, with a nervous but determined look, she straightened up and extended a hand.
"Hermione Granger," she said formally. "It's nice to meet you."
Harry chuckled, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you too, Hermione."
She gave a small, hesitant smile. "I guess we'll be in the same year at Hogwarts."
"Looks like it."
Hermione bit her lip, then decided to push forward. "So… you knew you were a wizard this whole time?"
Harry leaned back, watching her with mild amusement. "Not exactly. I knew I was different. Weird things happened around me—things I couldn't explain. But the Dursleys made sure I never thought about it. They punished me if I asked questions."
Hermione's expression darkened. "That's disgusting. No child should be treated like that."
Harry just gave a nonchalant shrug. "Well, what about you? When did you find out?"
The sudden shift to her made Hermione pause for a moment before she gathered her thoughts. "Oh! Right. My parents are Muggles, so we never really understood why strange things kept happening around me. I once turned my teacher's wig blue by accident. And another time, I repaired a broken cup just by touching it."
She shook her head, smiling fondly. "My parents didn't believe in magic, but they knew something was different about me. Professor McGonagall visited us and explained everything. She said I'd gain control of my powers at Hogwarts."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "And now you want to be the best at everything, don't you?"
Hermione turned red. "W-Well, I just want to do my best. I like learning."
Harry chuckled. "That's not a bad thing. Just don't let it control your life."
Hermione huffed but smiled. "We'll see about that."
Before Harry could respond, a knock on the compartment door interrupted them.
The trolley lady, a kind-looking elderly witch, peeked in. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"
Hermione looked excited, but then hesitated. "I—um, I brought food from home…"
Harry, however, wasn't about to miss this opportunity. He pulled out a few coins from his pocket and grinned. "I'll take the lot."
Hermione's eyes widened. "What?! Why would you—"
Harry just winked. "You've read about me, Hermione. Might as well live up to the reputation."
The trolley witch chuckled and handed him an assortment of sweets. Harry grabbed a Chocolate Frog and tossed it to Hermione. "Go on, try it."
Hermione hesitated before unwrapping it. The moment she did, the enchanted frog leaped off her hand. She let out a startled yelp as it hopped onto the seat.
Harry laughed. "Better be quick next time."
Hermione shot him a glare but couldn't help giggling.
Just as the two settled in to enjoy their snacks, the compartment door slid open again—this time, revealing an unexpected visitor.
To be continued…