So Many Secrets.

Hogwarts

If I keep my head down I'll be fine. No one will recognize me.

I look behind my shoulder as my aunt and uncle pull out of the lot and drive off. Uncle's smiling, and I know it's because he thinks there's no such thing as platform nine and three quarters. There has to be, I went to Diagon Alley, and I have a wand!

Hagrid wouldn't lie. 

At least, I don't think he would, but as much as I want to trust him, I can't. Trusting people just gets you hurt. 

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" a blond kid snarls when I bump into him.

"S-Sorry... I didn't mean to, I swear."

He's got a trunk, and an owl.

"A-Are you a... a wizard?" I ask quietly. He blinks.

"Depends. Are you?"

I nod. Maybe now I can get on the train.

"Then yes, I am. My father says I'll be one of the best when I'm older. My father is Lucius Malfoy. You've heard of him, right?"

I shake my head.

"How!? Surely your parents read the Prophet!"

"M-My parents are d-dead."

This stupid stutter. I hate it, but I can't help it when I'm nervous. And for some reason, I feel awfully nervous around this kid.

"Dead? Oh... Well, I'm sorry, I just assumed they were the ones who brought you here. What's your name? I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy."

"Harry."

He raises a brow. "Your surname? Maybe my father knew your parents."

I shake my head. "It's nothing."

"Are you a pureblood? If you are, my father would surely know your parents. Maybe he was even friends with them! He might know them if you're a half-blood, too."

"A... A what?"

"What, were you raised by Muggles? Is that why your clothes are filthy?"

Shut up about my clothes.

"I just n-need help getting o-on the t-train." The words come out so fast, I bet that's what causes the stutter. I can't get them out fast enough, so I trip over them instead. It's not my fault. I've always talked fast when I'm nervous. Or scared.

"So you were raised by Muggles!" he exclaims.

"By my aunt and u-uncle."

A tall, slim, blond man appears behind Draco. His hair is down to his waist, pulled back in a hair tie. "Draco, what have I said about pestering others?"

"H-He wasn't p-p-pestering me, sir. I-I need help getting on th-the train..."

"Well then, Draco, come along. You, too. What is your name?"

"Harry."

"Your surname?"

"It's nothing that matters."

He raises his brow, much like Draco, and shrugs. "Follow me, boys, you have ten minutes to get onto the train and you mustn't be late."

I can barely keep up with his long strides. Both of them are in front of me, walking with confidence, while I'm tripping over my own two feet. I must look like such an idiot.

"Draco, help Harry find a compartment. If he does not, and if he wants you, let him sit with you. Understand?" Draco nods before wrapping his arms around his father's waist.