Hi guys. This…Well, I found it when I was cleaning out my dorm room. It probably won't ever get added on to, so I figured I would go ahead and post it since it's pretty funny.

Disclaimer: Nooooot mine.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?"

Harry glanced up from his book—"So You Think You Can Be A Con Artist"—and examined the boy standing in the doorway of his train compartment. Red hair, freckles, black smudge on the nose—it was the boy whose mother had shown him the gateway to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

"Sure," he replied confidently, "have a seat."

The boy sat across from Harry and extended a hand. "Ron Weasley, pleased to meet you."

Harry took it with a smile. "Harry Potter, and likewise."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "You're really Harry Potter?"

"I'm the only Harry Potter I know."

"Well, I've met four 'Harry Potters' just on the platform, and I'm pretty sure one of them hasn't been eleven in about 30 years. Prove you're the real deal."

Harry shrugged. "Okay, that sounds fair." Then proceeded to lift his bangs and reveal the lightning bolt scar that made him a celebrity.

Ron whistled in appreciation. "Aw, wicked! Sorry I had to ask, mate."

"It's no problem." It was the most reasonable response Harry had gotten to the thing all day.

Shockingly enough, Harry and Ron got along brilliantly. They discussed many topics, ranging from Quidditch to ice cream to the inconvenience caused by having to do chores while everyone else in the house is pointing and laughing at you—in Harry's case, an everyday occurrence, and in Ron's, that one time Fred and George had figured out how to conjure a flashing neon sign above his head. At any rate, the conversation eventually turned to Hogwarts, their upcoming destination.

"Which house do you think you'll be in, Harry?" Ron asked around a roast beef sandwich of questionable quality.

"I dunno. All I know about them is what Hagrid's told me, and he's a nice guy and all, but he seems to be a little on the slow side, if you know what I mean."

Ron grinned sheepishly. "Well, to be honest I don't know a whole lot about them, either. My whole family's been in Gryffindor, so I can tell you a bit about that one. Don't tell my brothers, but I've heard 

that Hufflepuff's all right, too. Really, I'm not sure I care where I go, so long as they don't send me home, y'know?"

"Do I!" Harry replied happily. "Hey, you know what would be fun?"

"What?"

"If we were to get ourselves sorted into Ravenclaw or Slytherin."

Ron gave Harry an incredulous look. "How is that fun?"

"Come on, Ron, imagine it! Hagrid told me both my parents were in Gryffindor. Heck, your entire family was in Gryffindor! Think of the stir we could cause! Think of the mayhem! Think of the power!"

"Wait." Ron protested, frowning in thought. "I can see the stir and I can see the mayhem, but I'm not seeing the power."

"Imagine we get into Slytherin. They'll think I'm becoming the next Dark Lord, Ron, and they'll think you're my right-hand man. We could run the school in a few years!"

Ron considered this for a moment. Deep down, he had always wanted to stand out among his brothers. He wasn't spectacularly good at anything, except maybe chess. Here was an opportunity he was pretty sure no one in his family's history had taken before. He could be the first Weasley to help take over the world! Well…

"One thing. How's your benefits package?"

And that would be the end of that. You can just assume that Harry and Ron go on to run the first ever Hogwarts-based mafia from Slytherin, terrorizing everyone in the school but especially Snape, because you know he would be obnoxious and whatnot. Draco would probably become their number one goon, (power-hungry little bugger) and Percy would forgo Ministry work to serve the Dark Lord Potter. Oh, and the power Voldemort knows not would be the Hufflepuff special division of the Potter Mafia, who would specialize in assassinations because Hufflepuffs are scary.