Chapter 3: On the Train

"Harry, isn't it?" The boy spoke, after a long silence between them. "Harry Potter? I am Theodore Nott, I don't believe we've been formally introduced." He said, politely.

Harry's head snapped back around to stare at him. Of course, his creature inheritance had healed every single mark on his body except for the only one that he'd wished it had. That stupid cursed lightening bolt. It was probably the only thing that would haunt him for the rest of his life—at least, at present. He eyed the other boy warily, mentally making a running set of notes in his head. The Slytherin was watching him, but hadn't offered his hand or anything like that.

Not like Draco Malfoy had on that first day.

Something had always bothered him about that—as if he'd managed to somehow jinx himself and start their rivalry by ignoring the polite gesture that day on the train. Of course, there was no way he would've been able to take that hand—not after Malfoy had insulted the Weasleys, but Ron had actually had very little to do with it.

Harry just couldn't stand bullies—and Malfoy had all but physically cut Ron down to 'size'. He couldn't have ignored that.

The silence in the little compartment strained a bit longer than was strictly polite.

"Well, are you?" Theodore prompted, not seeming the least bit bothered by the silence.

Harry swallowed again. He didn't know too much about Nott, just that his father had been arrested and thrown in Azkaban and possibly scheduled for the Dementor's Kiss. Harry was rarely able to keep up with all the news in the wizarding world—especially during the summer when he lost contact with virtually everyone and everything the moment he returned to the Dursley's.

He reminded himself that Theodore was speaking—no, had spoken—and an answer was probably required. Harry mentally backtracked, something he had been working on over the summer and retrieved the last question. Oh, right. He did have to answer to that. A safe enough answer. 

Harry merely nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak just yet.

Theodore didn't seem to mind at all. "Wonderful. It is a pleasure to officially make your acquaintance." The honey-gold eyes softened and a faint smile touched his face. "Might I inquire as to how was your summer? I'm afraid mine was a bit of a headache. Lots of paperwork to set straight since…Father was arrested." He causally pushed up the sleeves of his uniform before he made a slight motion that seemed like a cross over his chest.

Harry took notice of the movement and realized what the boy had just shown. His wrists were bare and there was no trace of the dark mark—at least, not that Harry could tell. He didn't think the boy was under a glamour, but he wasn't about to check just yet and if he didn't know better, he'd swear the boy was Catholic and had just crossed himself for speaking ill of a parent. Harry had known a few muggle children like that—he'd gone with Dudley to school a few times—before the Dursley's had discovered the wondrous world of Smeltings and decided that he'd had education enough.

Something sounded off in the back of his mind and Harry immediately pounced on the mental distraction. His new instincts were screaming at him to be careful and alert. Out of habit, he took a cautious sniff of his own and his brow furrowed as he tried to puzzle out what his instincts were telling him.

He'd gotten a teeny bit of practice in the past week—once he'd figured out that he could distinguish most scents—and had been able to pick up when his relatives were lying through their teeth, when they were terrified of him and when he ought to run. At the moment, the reaction filtering through him after a good whiff of Theodore's scent had him relaxing. His Dragel body processed the scent as something familiar and soothing—something that he didn't have to be afraid of, regardless of whether Harry agreed with it or not. It also had a slightly sweet scent—one that Harry couldn't quite place. He really needed to find more information on this Dragel thing.

"Are you alright?"

The question was completely unexpected.

Really unexpected.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Are. You. Alright?" Theodore repeated, this time with deliberate emphasis. There was no bite to the words though, only a genuine curiosity. "You seem a little…lost. Do excuse me for asking."

"I'm fine." Harry bit off, unable to help himself for giving the curt reply. He didn't like the fact that other boy might've picked up on his current state of confusion—nor did he think it was anyone's business how he was really feeling. Mr. Theodore Nott could take his nosy questions and jump out the train window if he liked—as far as Harry was concerned, no one but his circle had the right to know how he was really—oh Merlin!

The thought had Harry consciously digging his hands into his oversized jeans with a death grip. He was thinking of a circle—Merlin's beard! He hadn't even met any potential—no, he wasn't going to let his head go in that direction. It'd only been a few weeks—okay, a month—if he counted correctly and surely that wasn't enough time to leave him thinking of things like Dragel circles and mateships and—Harry swallowed hard. He was sixteen! Sixteen! That was not old enough for this kind of…thing.

A soft groan slipped through his lips. Harry mentally resisted the urge to bang his head against the back of the train seat.

"Good." Theodore said, neutrally. He didn't seem to notice the groan, or if he did, was too polite to call attention to it as he then directed his gaze elsewhere and reached for the little knapsack he'd brought with him and drew out a large, hardcover book with gilded pages and scripted writing on the cover.

A soft whoosh of energy seemed to roll off of the tome and Harry realized it as being a special protected book. He'd heard of those. Herimone had often indulged in daydreams of owning or being allowed to read one. Harry had only half-listened to her.

He squinted slightly, drawing on his new, enhanced sight to make out the title of the book. It was a giant encyclopedia of magical creatures. Harry felt his mouth grow dry. He didn't recall that title in all his searching through the bookstore catalogues. Though from the very feeling of old, ancient magic that radiated from it, he could guess that the book might be a family heirloom—after all, most protected books were—at least, according to Hermione anyway.

A slight tingle rippled through him and Harry wished he could read it. The magic already left a rather pleasant feeling behind and Harry knew that there would be nothing dark inside of it or nothing harmful anyway.

They sat in silence for a bit.

The snack trolley went by and Theodore didn't look up, obviously engrossed in his readings, honey-golden eyes roving across the page, his lips occasionally forming the words he read.

Harry's stomach rumbled and he stood up to purchase a few snacks. He wouldn't be able to wait until dinner in the Great Hall if he didn't get something now. The ache in his stomach reminded him that sweets weren't really what he wanted, but it was the only option he had right now. So Harry purchased quite an armful and carried the sweets back to his seat and proceeded to devour practically all of them, pushing away the thought that he was literally gorging himself of pure sugar.

"That's quite a bit of sugar." Theodore commented. He looked up from his book at last, an expression of amusement on his face. He reached into his knapsack and drew out a wrapped parcel that he unshrunk and then proceeded to unwrap.

Harry's mouth watered as he caught the scent of seasoned, dried meat. Jerky. Fresh jerky. Not the packaged, processed stuff. His head popped up and he found himself staring at the rich, dark colored strips of dark meat. His teeth and gums ached, a warning that his fangs were threatening to make and appearance. It took a supreme effort of self-control for Harry to will them away, but he couldn't help staring after the wonderfully smelling strips.

Theodore's dark brows arched upwards into his hairline as he took in the expression on Harry's face. "Trade you some for a chocolate frog." He prompted, when Harry simply stared and said nothing. It wasn't difficult to read the expression on the boy's open face and Theodore felt a slight pull to rescue the boy from what would be a socially awkward moment if there were others present. He was all too familiar with the little nuances of the wizarding world, especially the social games played in the pureblooded circles. Games that he'd played a little too much due to his position and prestige.

He could tell with a glance that Harry Potter didn't play those games—visual confirmation for those particular rumors had been wonderful—for that reason alone, he'd dropped the usual mask that his name all but demanded of him when he'd pulled down the blinds on the compartment windows. It was nice to know that the purported savior of their world didn't just take things at face value.

Harry blinked as the words registered and then looked at the scattering of empty wrappers. A soft whine of distress slipped through his lips as he rifled through the mess. There really weren't any real leftovers, except for maybe a few half-eaten bites that he'd overlooked in his haste to fill his stomach.

Theodore's eyes darkened by several degrees to a rich golden brown. The whine of distress from Harry prompted a response in the way of the soft sound he made in the back of his throat, that served to smooth over the furrow in Harry's brow.

Harry's head of messy hair snapped up and for a moment, he smiled, before the expression turned bewildered.

Theodore offered him two strips of the jerky.

Harry hesitated. "Would you take a rain check on the chocolate frogs?" He asked, even as he reached for the jerky. He had to have it—rain check or not.

"Rain check?"

"Er…it's a muggle expression."

"Ah."

"It means…that, I'll get it for you later?"

"That's fine." Theodore handed over the jerky. "Make it two frogs." He retrieved another book from his knapsack and began to flip through that one. He caught Harry's gaze lingering on the book, but didn't say anything else.

They arrived at Hogwarts and Theodore held him back as he reached for the compartment door.

"Just a moment." He said, in answer to Harry's unspoken question.

"Why?"

Theodore gave a little jerk of his head and a moment later, Harry could hear Malfoy's voice ordering Crabbe and Goyle to clear a pathway for him through the usual gaggle of students. Theodore frowned, his head bent down, as if he were listening a little harder.

Harry found himself subconsciously mimicking the actions and he flinched at the amplified voice of Draco Malfoy. The customary arrogance he was used to was rather subdued and almost non-existent as he directed his cronies past and followed in their wake. It seemed as if it were merely a matter of course than the pleasure pastime that Malfoy often indulged in.

Soon they were on the ground and making their way to the carriages. Harry sucked in a breath as he saw the thestrals. A painful stab in his chest reminded him of the reason why he could see the creatures in the first place and he sucked in a breath and blew it out forcefully.

He didn't need to dwell on that now. There were other things to be worrying and thinking about. He looked around, searching for the heads of red hair that always helped to center his world. When he didn't see Ron or Hermione's usual bushy head of brown hair, he frowned.

"Something wrong?" Theodore swung himself up into a carriage and then waved him over. "You're welcome to ride with me if you like. I do not mind in the least."