Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Warnings: The story...

...might include violence.

...might include (minor/major) character death.

Keep in mind that the rating for this story is T. There won't be any mature content, however, it may be inappropriate for children.

Harmonian Stars

A friend for a neglected soul

'Just leave already. I don't want to see your pathetic face anymore.' Those harsh words still echoed in Harry's mind as he hurried through the station. Don't worry, uncle, I don't want to see your face either. He was passing the sixth platform, pushing his way through the crowd that was waiting for the train.

The large trolley he pushed made it all a bit easier. Sure, it was heavy with all his stuff – literally everything he owned – stacked on the waggon, but the people instinctively jumped out of his way before he even needed to ask them. And no one was concerned by this eleven-year-old wandering alone over the platform. Behind his bags, he was almost invisible and most people didn't look at him again, once he had passed them. Of course, the visual shield worked both ways and cut down his vision to only a few metres left and right, but this was only a minor setback compared to the advantage of not been seen. Only the white owl in its cage drew the attention of some, but even those who noticed didn't speak up.

And don't you dare to get expelled or something. If you return even a day too early, I promise you, you'll spend the night in the park. It was the last thing Uncle Vernon had shouted before dropping him off at King's Cross Train Station, together with all his bags and the cage for his owl.

I'm not an idiot, why would I voluntarily return to the Dursleys if there was the chance of being away a bit longer. Hell, sometimes I would even prefer the park.

His aunt hadn't said a single word at his departure. She had sat in the car and stared at him. There was the usual distasteful gaze, but Harry could have sworn there was something else, something he couldn't quite place. Was it just relieve to finally be rid of him or was there genuine concern for him? They had, after all, abandoned a kid at one of the largest stations in the city looking for a platform that shouldn't even exist.

Whether it was concern or not, Harry couldn't quite bring himself to care. His entire life he had suffered under the hatred of his relatives. No more, I'm done with them. I won't return until next summer, maybe I can even convince someone to let me stay at the school. Anything would be better than returning to the Dursleys.

He was still pushing his trolley forwards, having just passed platform eight. Only a bit longer and platform 9 ¾ should be visible…

He reached the ninth platform without much trouble. It was crowded like most of the others, but not overly so, Harry had enough space to navigate his trolley safely through the hall. For once he cursed his large trolley, though. Behind his boxes and trunks, he couldn't look out for the mysterious platform. He couldn't even see where he was going, so how was he supposed to find the hidden platform?

Hagrid said the platform was safe from … muggles. It must be somehow locked away from the crowd or else everyone would enter. I guess the morning will turn into an extensive searching session. At least time is not much of a problem, I'm awfully early anyways.

Indeed he was. The Dursleys couldn't wait to get rid of him and drove off as soon as they woke up. Vernon even set the alarm at 5 o'clock in the morning, a time he would usually consider as inhuman. To get his hated nephew out of the house, though, it couldn't be too early. Not that I'd complain, I couldn't wait to get away either so he actually did me a favour. Still, it's sad to know that he wouldn't rise that early to prepare his own son's birthday, yet force himself out of his precious sleep to get me away. And I don't think I've ever seen him as happy as today.

The wave of sadness was soon forgotten, though, as Harry turned his attention back to the task at hand: finding the platform. Obviously, it had to be somewhere between the ninth and the tenth platform, closer to the tenth. There weren't too many options, between the rails were only two rows of brick pillars. Those massive columns were wide enough to easily include a door or even a small portal. The only problem was, that there were at least a dozen pillars in each line.

I don't even know how to open the door when I find it. If I find it.

Harry knew nothing about the hidden entrance, only that it existed and opened to Platform 9¾. Maybe it's some kind of test and only those who find the door can go to Hogwarts.

Despite all, Harry was still cheerful. Not only was he away from his relatives – a rare occurrence as he had never been allowed to leave the house safe for going to school as they feared, the neighbours would be offended by his freakishness. He was also going to visit a magical school since he, Harry Potter, was a wizard. If that was no cause for celebration, then none was.

Still, I should wait to rejoice until I sit on the train all safe and sound.

Walking through the lines of pillars he eyed them carefully. He brushed his hand against each, sometimes tapping the stone in hopes of finding a hollow spot, but nothing suspicious caught his eye. There were only the massive brick walls without any indication of a hidden door. Not even a single stone was out of place. Whoever hid the entrance did an amazing job. Or the entrance is somewhere else. Or it doesn't even exist. He shook his head, ridding his mind of this unwelcome thought.

No, this is the correct place. It's between platform nine and ten and much closer to the latter. Another place wouldn't make sense. It must be hidden by magic.

It was the only solution Harry could come up with. Granted, he wasn't too experienced with hidden doors and the like, he hadn't even read an adventure book or had watched a film about some hidden treasure. His uncle never allowed him to visit the local library so the only way to get his hand on a few books was through the pitifully small 'library' at his school.

The library – it wasn't really a library, only two dozens of books and some journals in a cabinet near the secretary's office – only included textbooks and no novels, but even those were better than the monotony at home. And while he doubted he would have been allowed to watch TV if he had asked, there was absolutely no desire to even try. Watching TV always included the living room and that would mean that either Dudley, Petunia or Vernon was present, possibly all of them. No film could compensate the discomfort of sitting next to one of them, so Harry happily avoided the living room. Sadly his only alternative had been his cupboard.

After 11 years of getting locked inside the tiny space under the stair, he had grown at least a bit fond of the place. He still hated it, of course. It was the symbol of how his relatives treated him. Still, it had also been the only place, except for school, where the Dursleys wouldn't bother him. Maybe it was only because both Dudley and Vernon were too fat to stick more than their head through the door and Petunia just didn't care, but to Harry, it didn't really matter as long as they stayed outside and left him alone. And that they did. Unless they found some chores to do, no one would care what he did inside. As long as he stayed silent, he was fine.

Fine, however, was probably not the best description of his current situation. He was still as clueless as before. True, it was only seven o'clock in the morning and he still had about an hour to find the entrance but anxiety still found its way into his heart. What if I don't find the door? Will someone come to pick me up or are they going to just leave without me? He wasn't sure what to expect from this still unknown society of wizards. Would they care about a lost student?

He couldn't return to the Dursley's. They implied earlier that they wouldn't accept him back and Harry knew that his uncle would not hesitate to leave his eleven years old nephew on his doorstep. No, he'd probably drag me in his car, drive off to someplace far away and drop me out there. They couldn't let the neighbours think badly of them.

He couldn't let it come that far, so much he knew. Whatever they did when he returned, Harry wouldn't look forward to either option. More determined than ever he returned to his throughout examination of the next pillar.

He was just about to finish the last of the four sides as someone lightly tapped him on the shoulder. He flinched back, startled by the unexpected touch and crashed right into the person standing behind him. While Harry wasn't heavy – more like thin as a rake – it was enough to send both him and the stranger behind him tumbling over. Surprisingly, Harry didn't meet the hard floor, something had cushioned his fall. For a moment he spaced out, wondering why there was no pain, but the groan from the person below him quickly brought him back to reality.

Wait, a person below him could only mean…

…Ah, crap.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He berated himself as Harry quickly scrambled to his feet, careful not to step on the stranger lying underneath him. He nearly fell again in his hurry, but fortunately for him – and the stranger – he could keep his balance this time. For a split second, he considered to just run as fast as he could, hoping to avoid the trouble that was undoubtedly approaching. But he still had his morals and they were telling him to at least help the man up.

Or the girl. Harry thought as he finally got a look on who he had flattened. She was indeed young, not older than himself, but a bit shorter. Or maybe it was just for the fact that she was still on the floor while Harry was standing.

He immediately crouched down to help her up, but instead of reaching out, he caught himself staring at the girl in front of him. She was… cute, Harry decided for himself. Her hair had fallen in a messy pool around her head like a brown, curly cushion. A small, mousy nose adorned her face and her large brown eyes stared intently at him. No, it was more like glaring…

He snapped out of his trance and refocused on the situation at hand. There was a young girl on the ground, probably hurt and he was the reason for all this. I just can't stay out of trouble, can I? Maybe I should have gone to 'Brutus School for Difficult Kids' instead of Hogwarts... But all of this didn't matter. Here was a child that needed his help and he wouldn't just stand around, staring stupidly while the girl was in pain.

By now, the girl had moved a bit, carefully testing her limbs and attempted to sit up. Halfway done, another groan escaped her lips and her right hand instinctively shot upwards, holding the back of her head. The unexpected pain seemed too much though, and, lacking the support of one hand, the girl slumped back again. She clearly would have hit her head once more, if not for Harry's quick reaction.

He caught the girl right before she hit the ground again and gently lowered her to the floor. "Hey, take it slow," Harry said soothingly to the girl in his arms. "You hit your head pretty hard." There was no blood on his hands, Harry realised and he meant it quite literally. Despite falling head-first on the ground, there was no open wound on the back of her head and he was relieved. Head injuries are not to be taken lightly. The teachers at his school had been quite adamant about this fact. Especially since Harry 'fell' down the stairs all the time. Kids could be so cruel…

The girl shifted in his arms and tried to get up again. This time, Harry supported her and he successfully managed to help her in a sitting position.

"Thank you," she whispered and turned to the boy sitting next to her. It was quite the comical sight, the two children sitting on the station's floor amongst all those busy people hurrying up and down the platform. They sat close enough so that people thought them to be siblings or at least close friends.

Harry, however, was oblivious to it all. He only had eyes for the child before him. Her brown hair flowed freely down her neck and over her shoulders. It was still a mess but it was a good mess – if that made sense. The most intriguing feature, however, were her eyes. Gone was the glare he had seen earlier – or had he only imagined it? Instead, Harry looked into those deep, chocolate-coloured orbs. There was nothing but kindness, barely a hint of pain and… was this concern?

His eyes widened and he remembered that he was supposed to say at least something. "Y-you're welcome, I guess?" he stuttered feeling like a complete fool. "I mean it was because of me that we, uh, fell…" Smooth man, really good. Not! A thought crossed Harry's mind, involving him and a train, but he dismissed it before it grew into something even more idiotic.

"No!" the girl exclaimed vehemently, shaking her head furiously, forgetting the pain for a second. It returned twice as violent, however, and she couldn't suppress a painful groan. "It's not your fault," she continued less energetically, but still with enough force to stop his contradiction before it even left his lips. "Rather, it's mine. I shouldn't have startled you. I just thought that…" She stopped and looked at the floor, unwilling to face him. She was clearly embarrassed and Harry couldn't help but wonder why she had actually approached him.

"You looked like you were looking for something," she finally said and returned her focus to the boy next to her. She's blushing. He realised and he felt his own cheeks heating up. I'm not much better.

"You're right, I really did search for something." I just don't know what I'm really looking for.

"How can you not know that?" the girl asked, voice laced with confusion. Shit, I didn't realise I spoke out loud. "You must have had something in mind."

"It doesn't really matter," he mumbled. He hadn't thought about what he would tell if someone asked. There was no way Harry could tell her about Hogwarts, Hagrid made it quite clear. If nothing else, at least I know not to speak about magic to muggles. The word 'muggle' still felt strange whenever he used it. It had that certain negative undertone, so similar to an insult. And he certainly couldn't look at people and think of them as 'muggles'. It just seemed wrong to judge them just because they were non-magical. Until a month, Wizards would have called himself a muggle.

"But it should," the girl insisted. "If you lose something you should always try to find it before dismissing it."

"Well, what did you want from me, then. Were you also looking for something?" Harry countered. He knew it was rude, especially since she probably just wanted to help, but he didn't care. His entire life someone had always known everything better and found the need to rub it in his face. And now, some random girl did the exact same thing. He didn't like it. Even if she was kinda cute.

"No, of course not," she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You looked so lost there, I just wanted to help."

Of course, she would. Harry scolded himself. Not everyone is my uncle. How could I compare her to him?

"I'm sorry," Harry said. He truly was. Usually, he wasn't so straightforward with people and almost never so rude. Especially not to a stranger. Who wanted to help him. And whom he had hurt just a few minutes earlier. "I'm a bit on edge, right now. My train is leaving in an hour for my new school. It's some boarding school, you know?" She nodded understandingly.

"I've just never been on my own for so long before."A lie. I've been on my own for years. Practically my entire life. "In fact, I've never been outside of London before." So much was true. The Dursleys never took him on their annual vacation. They'd leave him alone in the house, disconnecting the TV and locking the front door. He knew better than to climb out the window, the neighbours would immediately notice. There would be just him and a full (or sometimes not so full) fridge. Those were the best days of the year.

"I see. We're actually more alike than we had thought. I'm also leaving to a boarding school, but at least I've always been rather independent." She didn't elaborate further, but Harry didn't need her too. He'd seen the signs, the bossy arguing about his 'supposedly' lost stuff, the way she had studied her feet when she said to be more independent than expected from her. He pitied her. Harry knew about bullying, having experienced it first-hand. It was always ugly, one way or another, whether it was verbal or took a physical form.

"Will we ever see each other again, once our trains leave?" He wondered. It felt strange to actually miss someone, but with this girl, he had that weird feeling that they could actually become friends. And he didn't even know her name…

„I doubt it," she said, not looking at him. "I mean, it's a small world and stuff, but the probability that we meet again is just so small… Unless of course…" she trailed off, hesitant to finish her sentence. "Is your school by any chance called Hogwarts?"

…

…

"No way," he whispered, disbelieve clearly audible. And visible as he stared at the girl with wide eyes, mouth agape. "You're a witch?"

She grinned and it was all the answer he needed. No one would see a compliment in being a witch except for… well, a witch.

"And you're a wizard." Harry could only nod. "I can't believe it," she continued, her enthusiasm growing as she talked. "The chances that two Hogwarts-students meet here, in the middle of the station… It's close to a miracle. I've read that all the older families would apparate right onto the platform. Maybe it's destiny that we've met here."

Destiny or not, Harry didn't care. All he knew was that he was, for once, a damn lucky boy. Ha, karma might be a bitch, but not today! Maybe he'd just made his first friend.

They were still sitting on the ground, Harry realised, but he didn't make any move to stand up. And why should he? He didn't mind the floor and the girl didn't seem to either.

"But if it was destiny then someone would have wanted us to meet and that is weird. I mean, why should…"

A soft 'shh' from Harry stopped her rambling. She looked up and stared at him with those wide, brown eyes. "It doesn't matter if it was destiny or luck or whatever brought us together, I'm just happy that we have met. This is all new to me, but at least I'm not alone now. That is if you want to be my friend."

That last sentence was barely more than a whisper, but to Harry, it seemed as if he had screamed it for the whole world to hear. It was an unknown feeling to talk about his insecurities. He didn't even know why exactly he had brought up this topic, it just seemed the right thing to do. I mean, what can I lose? The nonexisting friendship with a girl of whom I don't even know the name of? On the other hand, I can win… Everything. If we can get closer, she'd be my very first friend, both magical and non-magical.

"Of course, I want to be your friend, silly. But I'm afraid I won't be much help, I'm new to this world as well. I've read all the books, of course, but there are still so many things that I don't understand. Do you think we'll be able to keep up with the students from a magical family? They have so much more experience and are used to all this magical stuff…" Again, she was interrupted by Harry, but this time he threw his arms around her, catching the girl in a tight embrace.

Harry was confused. One moment he was listening to the girl he had met just five minutes prior and the next he felt an overwhelming urge to hug her. Caught off guard by his own thoughts he had already thrown his arms around the girl before he had realised what he was doing. He felt her stiffen in his embrace, clearly not expecting the sudden contact, but to his amazement, she soon relaxed and tentatively brought her own arms up. At this point, Harry knew his life would change, and it would change for the better.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter," he whispered still holding the girl in his arms.

"Pleased to meet you," she answered politely and both giggled at their childish display of a formal greeting. "I'm Hermione Granger."

It was a heart-warming sight, the two children holding each other tightly. But for the two of them, it was much more, the beginning of a friendship, closer than everything they had imagined.

Hermione was laughing. She couldn't help it, this was just too funny. And the sight of Harry didn't help either. He was pouting and looked like an upset five years old. It was just too adorable.

They had finally moved from the floor and were now looking for the hidden entrance to Platform 9¾. Though actually, it was more like Hermione showing Harry where the enchanted pillar was. To Harry's annoyance and Hermione's amusement, it was one of the columns that he had already examined.

It wasn't that the girl was laughing at Harry because he didn't find the entrance, no, with the nonexisting explanation from Hagrid there was no way Harry would have never found it on his own – after all, this entrance was designed to keep everyone non-magical away and thus was untraceable with muggle means. The funny thing about this all was Harry's reaction. He was throwing a fit about Hagrid not telling him and wizards being too secretive – and witches as well he had added to her delight. And while he didn't really mean anything of what he said, it was still hilarious.

"Come on, Harry, I'm sure he'd just forgotten to tell you," Hermione reassured him. Harry nodded hesitantly but wasn't convinced yet. There was this nagging feeling that it was part of something bigger than just the forgetfulness of the kind half-giant.

"But what if he hasn't just forgotten to tell?" Harry continued to press this matter. "I would have never found the entrance on my own and no one could predict that I would be running into somebody who'd help me. You said so yourself, chances to meet a wizard here are pretty low."

"You're right," Hermione said. She paused for a second before going on. "Maybe he wanted you to meet someone who would be new to this world as well. So you wouldn't be alone."

"Or maybe he just didn't want me in Hogwarts at all," Harry muttered unhappily to himself yet loud enough for Hermione to hear him.

"That's not a nice thing to say, Harry. You barely know him and he doesn't know you. Why should he hold a grudge against you."

I was wondering about the same thing all the time, back in school, until I just accepted that no one really likes me. "I don't know, he knew my parents. Maybe they…" he broke off realising his mistake. Hagrid had spoken so highly about his parents they must have been close friends. "No, that doesn't fit…"

"See," the girl said happily. "No need to get all paranoid. Although… It could be that he'd spoken to a magical family to show you the way to the platform."

"That would make sense. Hagrid seemed so disappointed that he couldn't accompany me himself. Asking someone to pick me up might be his way of setting things right."

"You want to wait then?"

Harry's gaze searched one of the prominent clocks that were scattered all over the station. It showed 7:10, by far enough time to get to the hidden train especially since he now knew about the entrance. Still, the thought of waiting for someone who he didn't even know whether they should come or not didn't appeal to him so he only shook his head.

"Nah, I'm sure it's best to go through the wall as soon as possible. The train must be crowded and the trip will surely be more comfortable if we find a seat," he said. "Also, if anybody should try to meet me here, they'll also find us on the train."

Hermione nodded in agreement and they approached the portal together, each with their own share of bags and boxes (and a cage in Harry's case). Standing in front of the massive wall, Harry suddenly felt very small. It was not because of the large column but rather what they represented that made him so nervous. Stepping through would mark the beginning of an entirely new life and he wasn't sure if he was up to the challenge. Sure, there was nothing to lose except for the Dursleys – and that was more likely an improvement – but there was so much that could go wrong anyways. It felt like he was moving to a different country without a chance to prepare himself.

He glanced at the girl beside him, looking for comfort or reassurance or whatever he had hoped he would find. Instead, he saw a girl just as frightened as him, maybe even more so. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks and her hands were clutching the handles of her trolley so fiercely, it seemed she had to forcibly stop herself from turning and running away.

Harry slowly reached out and brushed with his free hand over hers. To Harry's satisfaction, Hermione didn't withdraw her hand. Instead, she took his hand in hers and squeezed it, tightly but not enough to be uncomfortable.

Neither said a word, but they felt the other and that was so much better. Together they started to run, hands still tightly entwined, towards their new life on the other side of the wall.