Harry Potter and the Deal with Death

Chapter Four

By the time Harry turned eleven, he had destroyed three out of six of Voldemort's Horcruxes; the ring, locket, and cup, he was in possession of all three Hallows, and he had discovered a pocket in time and space he could use to store stuff - such as the Hallows, and what remained of the Horcruxes.

Getting Hufflepuff's cup wasn't as hard as it was in his first life, mostly because he asked Death to get it for him. What? You can't expect him to do everything he had done the first time around all over again. That would just get boring and repetitive.

Anyway, there they were - that is to say, Remus and Sirius - on Platform 9 ¾, sending Harry off to his first year at Hogwarts.

"Bye Siri, bye Remus! I'll see you during Christmas Break!" Harry called to his guardians while lugging his heavy trunk behind him.

Slipping into the last compartment on the very end of the train, Harry pushed his trunk to the overhead rack and sat down. He pulled out a book from his pocket in space and began to read.

Five minutes before the train was scheduled to leave, a boy Harry immediately recognised as Ron opened his compartment door.

"Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full," he asked.

"Sure, I don't mind," Harry replied, barely keeping the grin off his face.

"Thanks," Ron tried - and failed - to hoist his trunk next to Harry's.

"Here," he stood up and aided Ron in his desperate attempt to get his trunk on the rack.

"Thanks. I'm Ron by the way. Ron Weasley," Ron extended his hand.

"Don't mention it. I'm Harry. Just Harry," he took the offered hand and shook it.

"What house do you want to be in?" Ron asked.

"Gryffindor! Where else?"

"I need to be in Gryffindor, anywhere else would be a disgrace," Ron said.

They continued talking and laughing and bantering back and forth and generally having fun. Well, they were having fun until someone pushed open their compartment door.

"There's a rumor that this year is Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts. Have either of you seen him?" Draco asked none too nicely.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, ignoring his question.

"Malfoy," Ron spat.

"Weasley," Draco spat back. "So, I guess you haven't seen him. Gah, I searched every damn compartment and he's nowhere to be found."

Draco sighed and seemed to let his guard down a bit.

"I- um- got kicked out of the compartment I was sitting in, and everywhere else is full. Do you mind if I- um- sit here?"

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Harry stepped in before he could.

"Sure, why not?"

"But, Harry-"

"No, he can sit here if he wants. What's the harm?" Other than you two going at each other. He added in his mind.

"Thanks," Draco said as he sat down. "I'm Draco Malfoy. And you are?"

"Harry,"

"Don't you have a surname?"

"You'll find out during the sorting." Harry smirked.

"Fair enough." Draco shrugged.

"What house do you want to be in?" Harry asked.

"Slytherin. You?"