Author's Notes: This one will be closest to canon, for obvious reasons - Harry was a Gryffindor! :)

There will, however, be important differences. So this chapter will start out similar to canon and then start to diverge much more widely.

None of the other girls will have these experiences. For this reason, chapters will start to come further apart.

Darcey Six

Darcey pressed on through the crowd until she found an empty compartment near the end of the train. She put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave her trunk toward the train door. She tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice dropped it painfully on her foot.

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins she'd followed through the barrier. Darcey paused in surprise, but before she could respond he'd called to his twin, "Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

"Oh, it's alright," said Darcey, recovering and smiling warmly as the second twin approached. "I've got it." Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. She took out her black walnut wand and levitated the trunk softly up the train steps, tucking it away in a corner of the compartment.

"Ooh, fancy," the twins said as one, only somewhat sarcastically, grinning.

"You already know your stuff pretty well for a first year," said George.

"Guess you won't need our help," said Fred, not ruffled in the slightest.

But Darcey had pushed her hair out of her eyes. "What's that?" said Fred suddenly, pointing at her lightning scar.

"Blimey," said George, "are you -?"

"She is," said Fred. "Aren't you?" he added to Darcey.

"What?" said Darcey.

"Darcey Potter," chorused the twins.

"Oh, her," said Darcey. "I mean, yes, I am."

The two boys gawked at her, and Darcey felt herself turning red. Then, to her relief, a voice came floating toward the doorway of the compartment where they were standing.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mum."

With a last look at Darcey, the twins left.

Darcey hopped up the train steps to her compartment and sat down next to the window where, half-hidden, she could watch the red-haired family on the platform, and hear what they were saying. Their mother had taken out her handkerchief.

"Ron, you've got something on your nose."

The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"Mum - geroff!" He wriggled free.

"Aah, has inkle Ronnie got something on his nosie?" said one of the twins, Fred, Darcey thought.

"Shut up," said Ron.

"Where's Percy?" said their mother.

"He's coming now."

The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes and Darcey noticed a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter P on it.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves -"

"Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?" said Fred, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said George. "Once -"

"Or twice -"

"A minute -"

"All summer -"

"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said George.

"Because he's a Prefect," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term - send me an owl when you get there."

She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.

"Now, you two - this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've - you've blown up a toilet or -"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea, though, thanks, Mum."

"It's not funny! And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, Ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

"Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?"

Darcey leaned back quickly so they couldn't see her looking.

"You know that black-haired girl who was near us in the station? Tiny, with glasses? Know who she is?"

"Who?"

"Darcey Potter!"

Darcey heard the little girl's voice.

"Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see her, Mum, oh please…"

"You've already seen her, Ginny, and the poor girl isn't something you goggle at in a zoo."

"I want to see my idol," said Ginny stubbornly, firm and fierce. "The girl I want to be just like someday. I want to see her."

"Ginny, let's not overwhelm her and say we did, yes? She's only eleven," their mother scolded. "Is she really Darcey Potter, Fred? How do you know?"

"Asked her. Saw the scar on her forehead. It's really there - like lightning."

"Poor dear - no wonder she was alone, I wondered. She was ever so polite when she asked how to get onto the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think she remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

Their mother suddenly became very stern.

"I forbid you to ask her, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though she needs reminding of that on her first day at school."

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded.

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them goodbye, and their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"George!"

"Only joking, Mum."

The train began to move. Darcey saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved.

Darcey watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Darcey felt a great leap of excitement. She didn't know what she was going to - but it had to be better than what she was leaving behind.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Darcey. "Everywhere else is full."

Darcey shook her head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Darcey and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. Darcey saw he still had a black mark on his nose.

"Hey, Ron."

The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Darcey," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," said Darcey and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Darcey Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Darcey nodded.

"Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got - you know…"

He pointed at Darcey's forehead.

Darcey pulled back her bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared.

"So that's where You-Know-Who -?"

"Yes," said Darcey, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.

"Well," said Darcey slowly, "I remember a jet of green light and a pain in my forehead. And I remember that he… You-Know-Who… he had this really horrible, cruel laugh. But I don't remember anything else."

"He was laughing as he made the attack?" Ron looked stunned and appalled. "That's horrible!"

"Yes," Darcey agreed simply, "it is. So… are all your family wizards and witches?" She found Ron just as interesting as Ron found her.

"Er - yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"Because wizards and witches don't handle banking and money," Darcey realized. "The goblins do that."

"Right." Ron nodded. "It's a Muggle thing, human accountants."

"So you must know so much magic already," Darcey enthused. "I've been trying spells and potions from my books back at home, studying magical theory and memorizing magical plants and creatures, but I don't know far I've gotten. How far have you gotten?"

The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about - rather like the Potters, Darcey's own family, except Ron had actually grown up with his.

For some reason, Ron's ears went dark red. "Well… I mean… I haven't really…" He was shifting, looking everywhere but at her. "That's Hogwarts stuff," he whispered.

Too late, Darcey realized her mistake. She was ahead of the game - no one from a wizarding family practiced magic before Hogwarts, because they knew they'd learn everything they needed at Hogwarts.

"Well - I didn't mean -" she began awkwardly, blushing herself. "Sorry. I must have seemed obnoxious. I just… I have a lot to prove, you know? A lot of high expectations to live up to," she admitted. "It's a lot of pressure. Especially coming from a Muggle family."

Ron seemed to relax, his embarrassment fading. "I hadn't thought of it like that," he said slowly, "but yeah, it must be a lot to take on, mustn't it? That's why you're so keen. So… you don't have any special magical knowledge or powers?" he asked hesitantly.

"No," Darcey admitted honestly. "I have no idea how I survived what I did."

Ron seemed to relax even further.

"What is it like, living with Muggles?" he asked curiously.

"Horrible - well, they're not all horrible. I had lots of good Muggle friends as children. And my cousin was good to me - he saw me like a smaller sister. My aunt and uncle are terrible, though, strict and harsh and bullying. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers, or a little witch sister."

"I have six siblings," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "The only one who doesn't have to worry about high expectations is Ginny, because she's the baby and the only girl. But I have five older brothers. I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached into his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my Dad for being made a Prefect, but they couldn't aff - I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink again. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Darcey didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, she'd never had any of her own money in her life until a month ago, and she told Ron so quite kindly, all about the secondhand clothes and no birthday presents, then later having to rely on her cousin Dudley for everything. This seemed to cheer Ron up.

"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a witch or about my parents or Voldemort -"

Ron gasped.

"What?" said Darcey.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people -"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Darcey, "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn… I bet," she added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying her a lot lately, "I bet in spite of all my study, I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be. With how much you've said you've already done? Keep that up over the years and you'll be the best in the class, not the worst. I can't think of a single witch or wizard I know who started studying and practicing magic before it was assigned to them - not even the really good ones. So you'll end up amazing. Besides, there's loads of people at Hogwarts who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Darcey, who hadn't had any breakfast, leaped to her feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Darcey went out into the corridor.

The woman had all sorts of sweets she'd never seen before, nothing like the Muggle candies Dudley used to buy for her. Darcey got a container of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, a packet of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, a Chocolate Frog, a Pumpkin Pasty, a Cauldron Cake, a Licorice Wand, and then she got a second one of each of those things for Ron, who she suspected didn't have the money to afford sweets. She paid a pile of Sickles and Knuts, brought it all back to the compartment, and tipped it onto an empty seat.

"I got a second one of everything for you," said Darcey in a no-nonsense way, all business. She sat down. "So eat up." She had taken a rather motherly tone.

Ron flushed. "I don't need you to feel sorry for me!"

"I don't," said Darcey. "I just know how it feels not to have the money to buy any sweets with. Now I have the money and I have someone to share it with. So put down that package of lumpy, dry sandwiches in your hand and eat some damn candy."

"My Mum made this for me…" Ron muttered, his ears pink again.

"That was very nice of her. And does it seem appetizing?" said Darcey expectantly, frowning.

"... No. It's all dry, and she always forgets I don't like corned beef," Ron admitted. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"If it makes you feel better," Darcey sighed, "I'll trade you the sandwiches for your half of the candy, and I'll eat the sandwiches."

"Oh, you don't want this," said Ron quickly, and he looked torn. "Well… all right," he admitted.

It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through the pasties, cakes, and candies. (The sandwiches lay forgotten.)

"What are these?" Darcey asked Ron, holding up her pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?" She was starting to feel that nothing would surprise her.

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know - Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect - well, mostly it's boys who do the collecting, but you get the idea. All the cards have famous witches and wizards on them. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Darcey unwrapped her Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed the moving, smiling picture of a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore!" said Darcey.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Let me check my frog. I might get Agrippa."

Darcey turned over her card and read:

Albus Dumbledore

Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Darcey was immediately fascinated. "You can have all my other cards," she told Ron decisively, "but I'm reading their backs before you get them, and looking at their pictures, and I'm keeping this one. To commemorate my very first Chocolate Frog."

"Sounds nutter, but sure, suit yourself," said Ron, puzzled. "Anyway, I got Morgana and I've got about six of her." Casually, he shrugged and went back to the all-important act of eating.

Darcey tucked the Chocolate Frog card into the bottom of her trunk and forgot about it, turning to eat her frog at last.

Next Darcey opened a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Darcey. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once."

Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

"Bleeargh - see? Sprouts."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Darcey got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end of a funny grey one Ron wouldn't even touch, which turned out to be pepper.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Darcey had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Darcey bracingly.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him…"

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing in Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…"

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway -"

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er - all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,

Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed grey and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me."

"It's not a real spell," Darcey confirmed. "I've been studying magical theory and all spells are one to two words with Latin origins. They're decided using Arithmancy - the magical power of numbers decides which letters and how many syllables to use."

"Wow, I had no idea, I hadn't read that," said the girl, fascinated. "I focused my extra studies on wizarding history and culture."

"I did the opposite," Darcey confirmed. "I studied magical theory and the craft of spellwork, potions, the types of creatures and animals, that kind of a thing."

And so they were off. They traded books they'd read, studies they'd focused on, things they'd learned. Darcey was delighted - finally, she had met her match. They learned that while Darcey was good at memorizing key concepts and using them creatively, this girl was good at regurgitating whole pages of rote text.

Neville looked overwhelmed and Ron sat in the corner, in a very bad mood.

"Ron is sensitive," Darcey observed at last. "He didn't do any extra study. We've upset him."

Ron sat forward heatedly. "I'm not sensitive!"

"Well, that's understandable," said the girl matter of factly, as though Ron had never spoken. "But you know, you should have studied, it's really your own fault that you didn't."

Ron's glare was getting worse, so trying to smile, Darcey uneasily intervened.

"Are you Muggleborn?" she asked curiously. "Because I'm from a Muggle family, and I'm running under the theory that people like us feel we have more to prove and therefore compensate more."

"That's fascinating," said the girl fervently, and she began talking in a very fast and excited way. "Nobody in my family's magic at all. It was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased of course. I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard! I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, and as I can see this other girl has focused on the more practical aspects of study. It will be interesting to compare the two approaches. I just hope what we've done will be enough."

"So do I," Darcey admitted. "I've been thinking the same thing."

"Yes," said the girl, analytical and a good deal calmer and more canny. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She was looking solely at Darcey, but since Ron was now gaping with his mouth slightly open, Darcey decided to take pity on Ron and introduce him first. "This is Ron Weasley," she said. "And I'm Darcey Potter."

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "Well that explains the Muggle background and the need to prove yourself. I know all about you, of course - you're in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. But I'm not going to ask you about yourself, because that would be rude."

Ron looked down resentfully, silent.

Darcey looked sideways at him and smiled. "Both ways are fine," she said. Ron looked up hurriedly and Darcey favored him with a small, kind, warm smile. Ron relaxed a little. "I've decided," she told Hermione, "on the cultural front, to immerse myself and learn as I go."

"Oh, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. But I can understand that," Hermione admitted. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it. But I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…"

"What do you think, Ron?" said Darcey loudly and pointedly, and Ron started. "Ron's from an all-wizard family, so he must know all about the Hogwarts houses," she told Hermione, trying to include Ron.

Ron at last cottoned on. "Ah, right." He cleared his throat in an official sort of way. "Well, yeah, Gryffindor's probably the best. Gryffindor is the house of bravery, courage, and nerve - on a literal, physical level we believe in doing the impossible. What's great is that we're nice to all the other houses and all the other houses like us, aside from our rivalry with Slytherin. And all the other houses usually side with us over Slytherin. All my family were in Gryffindor - all my older brothers. My Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, though Ravenclaws do have a reputation as being kind of weird and nerdy.

"But I don't want to be a Hufflepuff. Everyone says they're idiots. And with a family full of Gryffindors? Imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"That's the house Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?"

"Yeah," Ron admitted.

"I heard all the Dark wizards and witches come from there," said Darcey. "From Hagrid, who took me shopping for my school things in Diagon Alley."

"It's basically true. The house is very Dark - and in wizarding terms, that means nasty, violent magic," said Ron seriously. "I swear, they're all mad in Slytherin."

"You can stay with us," Darcey told Hermione, who had been listening closely in surprising silence.

"Thanks! But I wanted to help -" Hermione looked around and Neville's seat was empty. He'd slipped out while the three of them were talking. "Oh, poor Neville," she sighed. "He came into my compartment crying and I was trying to help him."

"He has to look after himself. That's part of the game," said Darcey simply.

"That's actually true," Ron admitted. "I mean, I knew ahead of time my brothers wouldn't be taking special care of me. It's boarding school, after all, even if it is Hogwarts."

"Come on," said Darcey, standing. "I'll help you get the things from your compartment and bring them to ours." She and Hermione stood. Ron looked unenthused, but didn't protest.

"All right," said Hermione. "But then you two had better get your robes on, I expect we'll be there soon."

So in Hermione's empty compartment with its book still lying on the seat, Darcey showed Hermione the levitation spell, which Hermione immediately set to trying enthusiastically, and by the time they were back in the compartment with Hermione's floating trunk, the two girls were excitedly chattering about spells. Ron just watched them in exasperation, head in his hand. But he and Darcey did stand up and slip their black Hogwarts robes on over their clothes in the compartment. Ron's were a little short for him, his trainers could be seen sticking out of the bottom, but with surprising sensitivity Hermione had stopped criticizing Ron, though she must have noticed the poorness of his clothes and the dirt on his nose in comparison to her own single child status and relatively well to do things.

"So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" Darcey asked, trying to include Ron again. "I've heard about wizarding careers; there's such a huge variety to choose from."

"Oh, I know!" said Hermione. "And so many potential subjects to learn… It's so exciting!" She and Darcey shared a smile.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron.

"What, like curse-breaking?" said Darcey curiously.

"Exactly like curse-breaking, actually. That's what he does," said Ron wryly.

"Oh, how thrilling!" said Hermione.

"Did you guys hear about Gringotts?" Ron asked. "It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose either of you get that with the Muggles - someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Darcey and Hermione stared.

"Really? What happened to them?" Darcey asked.

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

"It could be him," said Hermione intently. "I read that You-Know-Who's body was never found. A lot of people theorize that he's out there somewhere with very weakened powers."

Darcey turned this news over in her mind, troubled. She was starting to get a prickle of fear every time You-Know-Who was mentioned. She supposed this was all part of entering the magical world, but it had been a lot more comfortable saying "Voldemort" without worrying.

"We should stop talking about You-Know-Who. It's upsetting Darcey," said Hermione with typical blunt, perceptive matter of factness.

"Oh, I'm really fine." Darcey tried to smile.

"Well good for you, because I wouldn't be," Ron muttered darkly. "Who wants to talk about that tosser, anyway? Let's talk something more cheerful. You two - what's your Quidditch team?"

"Thanks for not assuming I'm not interested because I'm a girl," said Darcey wryly. "Some boy in Diagon Alley did that."

"That's horrible!" said Hermione heatedly, indignant.

"It's also stupid," said Ron, staring at her, "because there's a whole professional Quidditch team specifically dedicated to women. My sister loves them. They're called the Holyhead Harpies. But women are all over Quidditch.

"So - Quidditch team?"

"I don't know much about sports or flying." Hermione smiled uneasily, nervously.

"I don't know any teams," Darcey admitted.

"What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. And instead of pouncing on that weakness, he said, "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world!" And he proceeded to try and explain it to them.

But he had just started when the compartment door slid open yet again, and it wasn't Neville the toadless boy or even one of Ron's brothers this time. Hermione and Darcey never would find out that day just what was so great about Quidditch.

Three boys entered, and Darcey recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. The mocking, wealthy one who didn't like people from Muggle families and was from a whole all-wizard family of Slytherins. He was looking at Darcey with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Darcey Potter's in this compartment. Which one of you is it?" He was looking between the girls.

"It's her," said Hermione, pointing at Darcey. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"A Muggleborn," the pale boy sneered, hearing the name, and Hermione flushed an angry, embarrassed red and went suddenly silent. "Well," he turned to Darcey, who had become colder and more stiff, "this is Crabbe and this is Goyle." They were both thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards. "And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snicker. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." Draco Malfoy himself was dressed almost absurdly well, better than Hermione or even Darcey.

He turned back to Darcey. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. And as for a Muggleborn? You shouldn't be associating with one at all."

"Well that's quite rude!" said Hermione indignantly. "I think -!"

"Did I ask you what you thought?" the pale boy asked, smiling quite nastily, and Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles. Hermione went silent, looking suddenly rather faint.

The pale boy turned back to Darcey.

"My point is, you don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Darcey's, but Darcey didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," she said with surprising softness, her eyes narrowed and deadly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but he lowered his hand and a pink tinge did appear on his pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with riffraff like a Muggleborn, the Weasleys, and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Both Darcey and Ron had stood up.

"Ignore them!" Hermione hissed, trying to pull them back down. "Just ignore them! We can't be seen breaking the rules on our first day -!"

"And just what," said Darcey louder, glaring at Malfoy, "would ignoring them do? Are they going to follow the rules? Do you really think they'll just go away?"

Malfoy smiled nastily. Hermione fell suddenly silent.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" he sneered at Darcey and Ron, who was very red in the face.

Darcey pulled out her wand and pointed it right at Draco Malfoy and his cronies. Their eyes widened and they backed up just as she whispered a spell and a jet of fire shot itself straight at them.

Hermione shrieked and when the fire magically dissipated, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were gone. They'd run away.

"You could have hurt them!" Hermione squealed, mortified.

"They'd have hurt me," said Darcey and she sat back down with a sigh of contentment. "That felt good," she decided.

Ron and Hermione were both gaping at her, but Darcey's temper had been appeased and she was now quite cheerful.

"You know, Hermione," said Ron, "there's one definite thing I've learned from all my older brothers and it is this: no one, not even the Prefects, follows the rules at Hogwarts. Think about it. It's crammed full of training witches and wizards." He sat down, quite recovered, and Hermione now looked a bit pale.

"Relax," said Darcey. "Think of all the spells you already know. Good thing, right? You'll need them."

"I… I suppose so," said Hermione thoughtfully.

"Anyway, you've met Malfoy before?" Ron asked curiously.

Darcey explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."

The train could be heard rumbling along as they all processed this.

"We must be nearly there," said Hermione suddenly. "So here's hoping for Gryffindor, I suppose."

"Here, here," said Ron weakly.

Darcey peered out of the window. It was getting dark. She could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.

A voice suddenly echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Darcey's stomach lurched with nerves, Hermione began talking about nothing at all in a very fast manner (which Darcey realized was her way of being nervous), and Ron, who was glaring feebly at Hermione, suddenly looked pale under his freckles. The three of them joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Darcey shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Darcey heard a familiar voice with a thick West Country accent, "First years! First years over here! All right there, Darcey?"

Hagrid's big, hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"Come on, follow me - any more first years? Mind your step, now! First years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Darcey thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much, not even Hermione. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"You'll get your first sight of Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "just round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more than four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Darcey, Ron, and Hermione were followed quickly into their boat by Neville.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got your toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.