Disclaimer: I own as much of Harry Potter as you do, unless you are J. K. Rowling, in which case I own a distinct bit less than you do.
Harry climbed on to the train, trying to push and pull his trunk and cage with him. The twins from the large family, the Weasleys, came up to him and offered him help. He accepted, and they pulled his trunk and cage into the baggage car.
"Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.
"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.
"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you -?"
"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.
"What?" said Harry.
"Harry Potter," chorused the twins.
"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am."
The two boys gawked at him, and Harry felt himself turning red. Then, to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.
"Fred? George? Are you in there?"
With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train.
Harry walked down the hallways, trying to push his hair over his scar. In his short experience in the Wizarding World, people seemed to think all he was was a vessel to carry the scar around. If he made friends, he was determined to do it on his own accord.
Most of the compartments were full, and the people in those that weren't weren't willing to let a scrawny little first year sit in the compartment with them. At last, when he went back to the back of the train, he found a compartment he had previously overlooked. It only had one person in it, so Harry stood outside for a second, studying the person to see if the person would be willing to let him sit in there.
You really couldn't tell the height of the person, due to the large camping backpack he was wearing and the fact he was facing towards the window, looking out onto the station. Harry couldn't tell much from that perspective, so he opened the door.
"Excuse me, may I sit in here?" he asked.
"Sure," the person said, who sounded like a boy about Harry's own age.
Harry sat down in a seat close to the door on the left side of the compartment, facing the window, because he was trying to get as far away from the boy, who he was wary of due to his experiences with Dudley's gang,as possible. He still hadn't turned around from the window, but because of the new vantage point, Harry could tell he was taller than Harry by a great deal, but this was nothing new, as most boys his age were taller than Harry, and even some who were younger. He had his arms crossed, and his head turned down, and it looked like his eyes were closed, at least his left eye was.
The compartment door opened again, and the youngest boy from the Weasleys, Ron, walked in.
"May I sit here?" he asked the strange boy, not noticing Harry.
"Sure," the boy replied in the same tone as when Harry asked.
Ron sat down on the right side by the door, noticing Harry, as he was sitting opposite him, but not registering who he was. The train started to move, and, finally, the boy turned around and faced the two others in the compartment. He was very thin, but not abnormally so, more like athletically so. He had dark brown hair, and blue eyes. His backpack came about a foot over his shoulders, and it started half a foot down his legs. He was wearing a maroon long-sleeved shirt and dark blue jeans.
"I know you are Ron Weasley," he told Ron. "I saw and heard your family. However, I don't know who you are," he said, indicating Harry with a wave of his hand.
"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, raising his bangs above his scar.
"Pleasure to meet the both of you, I'm Matthew Drake, but I'm usually called Matt." He shook hands with both of them, then sat down right by the window on the left side of the compartment. He had to sit on the edge of the seat to compensate for his large backpack.
"What's in your backpack?" Ron asked, pointing.
"Something I have to keep hidden among most people. But, once we get to Hogwarts, I'll probably take it off eventually. Weirder things are in the Wizarding World, at least I think they are," he said in a weird accent.
"Where are you from? You don't sound British," Harry asked.
"I'm not. I am actually from America."
"Why didn't you go to school there, why are you coming to Hogwarts then?" Ron asked.
"That will be divulged in time."
Matt's response had the tone of a dismissal, so Ron and Harry just shrugged at each other and started talking to each other, mainly about Ron's family and Harry's life. When the food cart came by, Harry bought enough food for all three of them, but when he offered some to Matt, Matt just shook his head.
As Ron and Harry talked and ate, Matt fell asleep in the sunlight streaming in the window, so he wasn't awake when a boy came in the door, asking about a toad. Ron and Harry replied no, and the boy left. After he left, the train shifted, simultaneously throwing Matt into shadow and jerking him awake.
Just then, the door to the compartment opened yet again. The boy was back, along with a girl already in her Hogwarts robes. She asked if they had seen a toad, stating that Neville, who was obviously the boy, had lost one. She had a bossy voice, bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.
"We told you, we haven't seen any-" Harry began, before Matt cut him off.
"I know a way to get your toad back," Matt said. He twisted his arm and a wand fell into his right hand from under his sleeve. He raised it to shoulder level, pointed it toward the door, and said, "Accio Trevor the Toad." A toad came through the door and into Neville's outstretched hand.
"How did you do that? That's fourth year magic. You shouldn't have the power to do it. You shouldn't even know how to do it. Heck, you shouldn't even do magic before we even get to the school the first time."
"I can do it, I know how to do it, I did it. Oh, well. Not your problem." Matt turned around and returned to staring out the window. Neville and the girl, who introduced herself as Hermione Granger,a Muggleborn, sat down in the compartment and briefly fangirled/fanboyed over Harry.
Once more, the door opened, this time with a boy with blond hair, and what seemed to be a permanent sneer, given he had nothing to sneer about, came in, followed by two boys who looked like they had been cross-bred with gorilla DNA or something.
He introduced himself as Draco Malfoy, with his two groupies as Crabbe and Goyle. He sneered at Hermione for being a Muggleborn, Ron for being a Weasley, Neville for almost being a Squib, and Harry for not joining him.
"And who are you?" he rudely asked Matt, who was still facing the window. Matt turned around before introducing himself. "I'm Matthew Drake, but I'm usually called Matt."
"If you hang around with these blood-traitors, Squibs, and Mud- I mean, Muggleborns, you'll turn out badly. I can help you there."
Matt made a show of looking at Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy, then the group already in the compartment. "Where I come from, Draco, people who lead bully squads usually don't turn out well. These kinds of people," he indicated Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Harry. "are the kind that God favors, and therefore watches out for. I'm not trying to be rude, but I have seen what happens to the kind of people who you seem to be, and you don't want that. Sure, I'll be friends with you, but not if I have to ignore the friends I already have."
Draco looked thoughtful, then walked out, followed by his cronies. "We're almost at Hogwarts now," Hermione said. "We probably need to change into our robes." They took turns, Hermione using the compartment to change first, then Harry, Neville, and Ron, then Matt, who asked to change separately from all of them.
They finally reached the station and met Hagrid. He led all the first years to the lake, where they got into boats. Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione were in one, and Matt got in the boat with Draco and his cronies. They went around the final bend in the lake and saw Hogwarts for the first time. All were amazed, without exception.
They reached the dock and were led up stairs into the entry hall, where a Professor McGonagall gave them a speech about the different houses and how to act while at Hogwarts. Then, they were led into a small antechamber to await being led into the Great Hall to be Sorted.
AN: I'm American. You might notice in the way I write. Oh, well, I say. It is probably going to stay that way. You don't like it, you don't have to read it.
Finally, don't expect updates too often. I don't know how motivated to write this I will get. This whole thing is a trial, shall we say.
Until the next update, whenever that is, "Onward into the future!"