The krait snake Hagrid gifted Harry, named Asclepius, became an irreplaceable friend—his second ever, after Hagrid. Before parting, Harry pressed Hagrid for stories about his parents. Learning they were top students at Hogwarts, excelling in potions and other magic, filled Harry with immense pride. For the first time, he felt a spark of self-worth.
Determined not to shame his parents, Harry pored over his textbooks before term began, striving to grasp the wizarding world's alien theories, so different from the math and science he knew. They baffled him, and with no wizard to answer his questions, he briefly regretted not choosing an owl from Hagrid—letters might've helped.
Back at the Dursleys', Harry resumed his routine of chores and meager meals. Without the food Hagrid sent, fearing he'd starve, Harry might not have survived. He vowed to thank Hagrid properly at Hogwarts.
Since the shack incident, fear lingered in Dudley, Petunia, and Vernon's eyes. Harry regretted his outburst but lacked the courage to apologize—or the conviction that he should. Conversations with the Dursleys dwindled to nothing.
"…Hey, Asc," Harry whispered one night. "Will I make friends at Hogwarts?"
Asclepius, swallowing a thawed baby rat, was his only confidant. He spoke to the snake in secret, knowing Dudley or Petunia discovering his snake-talk would endanger Asclepius.
"It's up to you," Asclepius hissed. "But needing 'friends' to get by? Humans are pitiful creatures."
Snakes might not grasp friendship, but Harry didn't care. To him, a conversation partner was a friend.
"People need friends to survive," Harry said. "You and Hagrid are my only ones."
"Fair enough," Asclepius replied. "Talk to other humans like you do me. Start there."
"I will. Thanks, Asc."
In the dead of night, with the Dursleys asleep, Harry and Asclepius shared such talks. Harry counted the days until Hogwarts, dreaming of using transfiguration to turn his ragged clothes new.
Hagrid said his parents' inheritance was vast by wizarding standards, but converting it to Muggle pounds risked the Dursleys' suspicion, worsening his treatment. Unable to return to Diagon Alley, Harry eagerly awaited the start of term.
Unbeknownst to him, Petunia was secretly contacting someone.
On the day of departure, Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, his trunk carrying Asclepius's case. Following a large redheaded family with quiet gratitude, he searched for an empty compartment. None were free.
I can't ask someone to move… and asking to join takes guts…
Truthfully, a small boy like Harry could've squeezed in if he'd mustered the courage to ask. But a decade of solitude left him hesitant.
Near the train's rear, he finally found an empty compartment.
"Mind if I sit here?" Harry asked. "If it's okay with you…"
He realized the boy inside was from the redheaded family he'd followed.
"Sure!" the boy said. "I was bored out of my mind. Just got Scabbers for company."
The redhead wore worn hand-me-downs, as shabby as Harry's, sparking an instant kinship. Unlike Draco, who'd never known want, this boy seemed to share Harry's struggles.
"Same here," Harry said. "My pet's my only friend."
"Haha, good one," the boy laughed. "I'm Ron Weasley. You?"
"Harry Potter."
"No way! Really?" Ron exclaimed. "Merlin's beard!"
Harry smiled at Ron's wizarding exclamation. His gaze held curiosity, but not the fawning celebrity worship Harry feared.
They chatted, sharing wizarding sweets. Seeing Ron grimace at his mother's corned beef sandwiches, Harry envied him—a mother's care was more than he'd ever had.
"This Chocolate Frog card's got Dumbledore," Harry said, changing the subject.
"Lucky!" Ron said. "I got Agrippa again. Five duplicates now."
"So it's rare," Harry noted. "Says he made the Philosopher's Stone and defeated Grindelwald."
"Yeah," Ron said. "Percy told me the Philosopher's Stone makes gold and an elixir for long life. I'd trade it for garden rocks."
"Can't magic make gold?" Harry asked.
"Nah, it's different," Ron said. "I don't know the details, but you can stretch existing gold or turn stuff into it with transfiguration. It fades, though. Real gold's rare—goblins control the mines. Galleons are mixed, stretched by magic. Or so I've heard."
A true alchemist, beyond transfiguration's limits, and a great wizard—that must be Albus Dumbledore.
"I want to study and be like Dumbledore," Harry said, half-joking, half-serious. "Maybe make a Philosopher's Stone."
Ron laughed. "Nice! Show me if you do. But if you turn into a swot like my brother Percy, we're done."
"No worries," Harry said. "I'm not that studious."
He'd read his textbooks repeatedly, eager to practice, but underage magic was banned. Harry worried about keeping up in class or fitting in at his house.
"Got a house you want at Hogwarts, Ron?" Harry asked.
"Gryffindor, no question," Ron said. "Best house. Not sure I'll make it, though. Ravenclaw's fine as a backup. Hufflepuff… well, my twins'll tease me, but that's it."
"Your brothers are all Gryffindors?" Harry asked.
"Yup," Ron said. "Top two are a banker and a dragon researcher. Percy's a prefect, and the twins are on the Quidditch team. Pretty big deal."
"Your parents too?" Harry asked, sensing the wizarding world's focus on bloodlines.
"Just a coincidence," Ron said. "Don't sound like a Slytherin, Harry."
"Sorry," Harry said, understanding Ron's aversion to being defined by family. "I just thought the wizarding world was like that."
Is he worried about not having siblings? Ron wondered, sensing the awkward pause. To lighten the mood, he played the fool.
"If you're asking what I'm good at, I'm the family dud," Ron said. "The twins taught me a spell, though. Check this out."
He tried a fake spell from his brothers, predictably failing, hoping to make Harry laugh. But a girl's voice interrupted.
A bushy-haired girl with prominent front teeth, unconcerned with fashion, entered. She was searching for a boy's pet but grew curious about Ron's spell. She watched with Harry as Ron chanted.
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!"
Harry hesitated to laugh in front of her, and Ron's spell flopped, embarrassing him. The girl rattled off her thoughts, declined Harry's offer to help find the pet, and left like a whirlwind.
"Any house but hers," Ron said. "She'd be exhausting."
"She's probably Ravenclaw," Harry said. "Seems smart."
"That'd mess me up if I miss Gryffindor," Ron groaned. "Ravenclaw's my backup."
Her arrival broke the tension, and Harry and Ron relaxed.
"Whatever house I get, fine," Ron said. "Just not Slytherin. If I'm sorted there, I'm packing and leaving."
Ron's jab at Slytherin, a common joke among wizarding kids, carried real weight. His family's stories, especially an uncle killed by a Slytherin dark wizard, fueled his disdain. Many shared his view: Slytherin was a den of future criminals.
Ironically, only those like Harry or the girl, raised outside the wizarding world, lacked such prejudice.
"That's a bit harsh, Ron," Harry said. "There are good Slytherins too."
He's saying that? Ron thought, stunned that a boy whose parents were killed by a Slytherin dark wizard would defend the house.
He doesn't know the wizarding world, Ron realized. Out of friendship, he warned Harry.
"Maybe, but Slytherins mostly think bad, sneaky stuff is right. That screws over good people, you know?"
Harry nodded, echoing that Slytherins were mostly bad, with some exceptions—a comment that wouldn't sit well with Slytherins. Hagrid had told him Slytherin produced Voldemort, but also good wizards. Still, Harry wanted to join Slytherin. As a Parselmouth, he felt it might be the only house to accept him, and he longed to be a great wizard like his parents.
Since arriving in the wizarding world, Harry was hailed as a hero. But he was just a scrawny kid, unworthy of such praise. To honor the wizarding world's welcome, he wanted to achieve greatness, like those on Chocolate Frog cards.
If Ron knew I was a Parselmouth, would he stay my friend?
Talking with Ron was fun—his first peer friend, unlike Asclepius. Harry cherished him but feared revealing his Parseltongue, dreading a change in Ron's gaze.
Even if Harry joined Slytherin, was it too much to hope Ron would stay his friend?
"Even so," Harry said, "Merlin was a Slytherin, right? They'd feel bad being judged for nothing."
As Harry tried to discuss Slytherin, the compartment door opened.
Draco Malfoy, blond hair slicked back, exuding arrogance, entered with two burly boys. He'd reached Harry and Ron's compartment.