The Day I Met You

Platform 9 3/4 - Part 1

Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter.

A//N : The story begins when Harry arrives at Platform 9 3/4 for his first year; events will be shifted in terms of later events. This is a boyxboy ship so if you aren't alright with the gay stuff, please don't read this.

Also, the first few chapters of this fanfic is rough, I assure you it gets better. Thank you!

Harry marveled at the train station; considering he'd almost never left the shabby storage closet he called his room, the sight of a something so grand intrigued him. As he walked to the station, having to walk because the Dursleys refused to drive him, he looked into the brilliant blue sky with cotton-like clouds dotted across it, and it seemed as if the station scraped across the soft bottoms of the cotton clouds.

The Dursleys, being his only known living relatives, had been who he lived with close to his entire life. He'd lived in a storage closet under the aged stairs, dust falling upon him any time someone traveled the stairs. Not to mention he was both a maid and butler, he'd been abused. He'd often go to bed with many bruises, cuts, and on some nights, broken bones. Had they cared? No. Not unless it affected how he took care of their spoiled arses.

He shook out the thoughts of his life and continued to admire the building. He couldn't help but stare. He'd never seen so many people, much less such a stunningly beautiful structure. He noted some people walked casually by like it were a pigeon, but in Harry's opinion, this was better than anything.

While he was too busy staring in awe at the sight, he accidentally ran into someone, falling onto his stomach in the process.

"Way to not embarrass yourself, Harry," he thought to himself. Sighing, he fumbled around looking for the round glasses that was knocked off him while he tumbled to the ground.

As he was mumbling his many 'sorry's,' he noticed a blurry image of a hand shoot in front of him; he willingly took it, sheepishly grabbing his glasses out of the other hand in front of him.

"Thanks," he said shyly, shaking his head at himself as he placed them where they previously were. "Sorry," he said quickly as he remembered he just ran into the generous stranger.

"Not a problem," said a prideful voice. When Harry looked up, he was almost in shock. The boy standing in front of him had porcelain skin with platinum blond hair that was practically glued down into a perfect manner, but it looked an all natural colour that paired well with his skin tone. He was dressed in a simple yet classy outfit: black jeans, a dark green button-up with silver buttons, black dress shoes and a silver chain that hung from his unwrinkled jeans. The hand that held his glasses now held a robe over his left shoulder, two fingers acting as a hook to hold the dark green robes. The other was casually rested upon a rolling suitcase that was, unsurprisingly, green with silver. He had detailed gray eyes and a smirk plastered on his smooth face.

"Keep walking," an irritated man grumbled while shoving the boy forward. The woman, presumably his mother since they looked mostly similar, rested her hand on the man's chest as if to calm him down. Her hair elegantly flowed down her back, brown cascades in the breeze with a streak of silver nearing her face. She wore a long dress which matched the green and silver theme and black laced sleeves. The man, his father, also had long hair that was a good few inches past his shoulders and matched the platinum blond the boy had; he had a green blazer with a black button-up, and black dress shoes. He carried a cane with a silver snake's head. Harry practically snorted at how everyone matched.

He caught the boy looking back at him and flashing him a smirk, leaving Harry standing and questioning.

Shaking his head at the short but seemingly long event, he strode forward, khaki pants making him sweat. He wouldn't have minded wearing khaki pants if they weren't oversized hand-me-downs from his overweight relative, Dudley. They fit in no place on harry, especially the red and white plaid button-up he wore with worn out converse. Red spread on his face, embarrassed to run into someone so well dressed while he was in his rhinoceros-sized cousin's hand-me-downs.

With his introverted spirit, it was quite difficult to ask one to help him find the platform Hagrid, the giant, hairy wizard, told him about.

It was a rather silly incident, really; it was amusing to see the life scared out of the Dursleys when the man just walked on in to blatantly tell Harry he was a wizard. Harry looked forward to seeing Hagrid and retelling how frightened Dudley had been about gaining a pig's tail.

Finally after he pushed aside his thoughts, he came to a conductor.

"Excuse me," he said, catching the attention of the conductor. "Can you point me in the direction of Platform 9 3/4?"

He only bursted into laughter, chuckling as he called Harry an uneducated swine. He winced at this due to it being the typical response he'd get from the monster : Dudley's father.

Dudley's father—better known as Uncle Vernon to Harry—was a monstrous beast. No matter the day, no matter the weather, no matter the condition Uncle Vernon left Harry in after a beating, he would torture Harry with whatever he could. It appeared that his own uncle hadn't cared if Harry starved all summer or was locked away.

He merely sighed and walked away, struggling to find someone that may actually think he's sane. In the midst of his thought, he saw a bustling small crowd of gingers.

"They look like a nice bunch," he thought, "Perhaps I'll ask them."

He saw them hurrying past him as he called out to them, so he quickly caught up with them in search for a parental figure to ask for help. He saw an older looking woman with rather frizzy and curled hair, dark circles under her eyes as she huffed at twins.

"George! Fred! For goodness sakes, just go to the damned platform!"

"Sorry, Mum—"

"Quite fun messing with you, frankly."

"Excuse me!" Harry finally bursted out. The group turned to face him, only seeing the mother smile.

"Hi dearie, are you lost?"

"Uh, yes," Harry said with a shaky voice due to nervousness. "Perhaps you know where Platform 9 3/4 is?"

Her face brightened. "Oh, thank goodness! Another first year! Ronald, my youngest boy, is a first year too!" She rambled on as she directed towards the freckled boy. He stood awkwardly and gave a slight grin to Harry as he returned the gesture.

"Now," she said, catching Harry's attention. "What you need to do is—"

Snap!

"Fred! George! What have I told you?!" She snapped, the twins exchanging amused looks. They laughed as they gave her a kiss on the cheek and ran into the wall, disappearing before they crashed into it.

The mother laughed seeing Harry's reaction. "Don't worry, dear, it's only magic. Now, what you need to do is run straight into the wall and don't hesitate; when you get through, keep walking or Ron, here, will run into you."

With a slight push from the kind lady, he ran steadily into the wall only to arrive at the platform he assumed was Platform 9 3/4. Just before he could move from the state of shock and awe he was in, the boy, Ronald, ran into him, both stumbling to the ground. Their faces reddened and they laughed, hastily standing up to load their luggage onto the train before climbing aboard the polished black train. He glanced back to find the lady rushing through the barrier and waving goodbye to them. He gave a kind wave and a smile, glad to have met someone that would treat him like a human being.