3 Chapter 3- Express Trip to Disappointment

September 1st, 1991.

The following month was spent in near-endless training. Whether being taught noble etiquette, how to recognise traps in magical documents, or magical studies, Rigel had never been more tired, or excited. Spending time with a grandfather figure was a new experience, and hearing stories while practising the spells from the Standard Book of Spells, was both informative and enjoyable. Hearing about the war, finding out Jasmine was in a similar situation to Harry, and hearing that the fan fiction favourite Daphne Greengrass existed, all helped him in developing his plans for the future.

Of course, he'd named his new familiar, Corvin Astro (Corvin), translating to 'Raven of the Stars,' in Latin and Greek respectively, a fitting name for a familiar of the Black family. The bird could understand him perfectly, but could not communicate in return, and the teleportation ability of the white raven had spooked Kreacher numerous times.

Having used the Kreacher Taxi Service, as Rigel had mentally dubbed it, the Lord and Heir Black appeared in a section of Kings Cross Station that was somewhat hidden from view. The young heir waited as Kreacher brought his things to him on a trolley, himself invisible. "Thank you, Kreacher."

"Always, Heir Black." The old house elf had warmed to him over the past month, especially after Rigel had started a conversation with Walberga, and using all the decorum taught to him, somehow been accepted by the harpy.

Dressed in a pair of black chinos, as formal as Arcturus could get him to dress, and a soft grey shirt and black jacket, left open, the boy was dressed expensively, bordering the line between casual comfort and proper formality. Arcturus had demanded he wore semi-formal wear, and so he did, his eyes contrasting brilliantly against the black and grey.

"I'll see you off here Rigel," the older gentleman said. "Write to me when you can, and if you ever need help, ask. Before you leave, what's the cardinal rule?"

"If you're going to do something shady, don't get caught."

"And if you are?"

"Deal with the witnesses however I need to."

"Good lad. Off you go." Rigel had laughed when he first heard the rule, but it was generally a good rule to follow, especially if he wanted to uphold a Gryffindor façade. As he pushes through the brickwork between platforms 9 and 10, he hears the shrill voice of Molly Weasley, complaining about the station being "packed full of muggles of course," as if the muggles had as huge a range of transport options as wizard kind.

Moving the trolley up and towards the train, he heaves Corvin's cage, and his blasted luggage onto the train, cursing that the shrinking charm and weightlessness were more advanced charms, as the levitation charm is only momentary and would require using magic right here in front of others. Shifting through the train he finds an empty compartment facing the platform, Rigel pulls out the potion's textbook, placing his trunk up above him in the luggage rack and sits Corvin on the seat opposite him. A few minutes pass as Rigel flicks through the book, revising the book's recipes, before the compartment doors slid open, a small, dainty-looking girl with black hair and emerald green eyes looking at me nervously.

"Umm, is it okay if I sit here? The train's filling fast." Rigel questioned whether he wanted to become associated with Potter so quickly, her bangs failing to hide the magic scar on her forehead, though the lack of glasses was nice. He didn't think glasses would suit her face, which although still angular, due to her being so thin, was still fairly cute.

"Sure, go ahead, Ms?"

"Potter, Jasmine Potter."

"You wouldn't happen to be a secret agent?" he joked, making her blush from embarrassment. "I'm Rigel Black, and that's my familiar Corvin. A pleasure to meet you," he said gently taking her hand and kissing her knuckles like he'd been shown by Arcturus. 'No way I'm letting grandfather find out I greeted the first heir I came across improperly. I'd cop stinging hexes for a whole day.'

"Carrk." The girl looked at the rather large white raven and simply nodded, having accepted the strange bird as simply something magical and moving on, sitting down beside it facing me. The two of them made small talk, the girl noting that although the boy had recognised her, he hadn't asked her the same annoying questions she had heard repeatedly about her parents. She was secretly glad, as she had little idea herself about what transpired, and the look of awe most of the wizarding community had when they looked at her yesterday in Diagon Alley and today was unnerving.

*Shhh Click*

The compartment doors open again, this time revealing the annoying git with ginger hair that was meant to be comedic relief but ended up frustrating many, with a large collection of fan fic writers outright hating him. "Hey, can I sit here, the other compartments are all full?"

While possible, it was unlikely, but the heir knew he couldn't be outright rude for no reason in front of Jasmine, potentially making a powerful and annoyingly nosey enemy. "Sure," the blue-eyed passenger said, secretly wanting to shove his wand in the ginger muppet's mouth and cast bombarda. Even more so when the boy sat beside me, opposite Jasmine.

"Who's bird is that?" he asked, curious about the majestic, noble and annoying bird.

"It's his, the raven is Corvin."

"Wasn't there a rule about pets somewhere," he said, absentmindedly pulling out Scabbers. The instant I saw him my smile grew wide, teeth bared like a Cheshire cat though only for a moment, calming down as I looked at my father's get-out-of-jail-free card.

"Well unless your rat identifies as a cat, frog or has the wings of an owl, I don't think you should bring up pet rules," I manage to say calmly, still watching the sleeping rat.

"Well it was my brother Percy's but now that he's a prefect, he got an owl and I got his rat Scabbers. The name's Ron by the way. Ron Weasley."

"Rigel Black, a pleasure to meet your acquaintance," the dark-haired boy lived fervently. The ginger twit looked confused for a moment, perhaps struggling to recall where he'd heard the name outside the Wizengamot. However, as Jasmine introduced herself, he completely forgot about the Black family.

"No way!" he cried in exclamation. "So… you have the-the scar?" The girl slowly moved her fringe out of the way, revealing the scar to both of her co-passengers, though only one was amazed. "So that's where You-Know-Who?"

"Yeah, not that I remember it," she said quietly, though Rigel remembered that the Harry from the books and films actually had remembered bits of it, the dementors digging it from the deepest recesses in his skull, and thus, Jasmine probably could too. "Are your families magical?" she asked, redirecting the conversation.

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

"My mother was a Muggle-born witch, but my father was from a wizarding family," Rigel added as she turned to him.

"So you must know loads of magic already?" she asked again, to which I shrug, and Ron deflects, trying to hide his incompetence.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron, looking gloomy. "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.

The two somehow managed to bring the discussion around to the Weasley's lack of funding, with Ron receiving second-hand things, and Jasmine explaining that until a month ago, she'd never had any money, being bought second-hand clothes from charity shops, which seemed to cheer him up. "What about you Rigel? You look pretty rich." The crass nature of the ginger tosser caused both Rigel and Jasmine to cringe.

"Well, I've never been super poor, but after losing my mum as five, I was put in a muggle orphanage, where I stayed until late May. I took the inheritance test and joined House Black."

"Woah/Inheritance Test?" the two listeners reacted.

"Didn't you take a test at Gringotts? Get stabbed and have your bloodline traced?" Heir Black asked.

"No, maybe Hagrid forgot. He was on a mission from Professor Dumbledore to retrieve something." 'Bull-fucking-shit he forgot. Well okay, he might have forgotten, but there's no way Dumbledore wouldn't have reminded him if he thought it important for her to complete it.'

"How about, next year during the summer holidays, I take you to get it done. The House of Potter is a fairly old one like mine, so inheriting the title officially might be beneficial."

"Err, okay. What do you mean officially inheriting it?"

"See the ring on his finger?" Ron pointed out, being surprisingly observant for once. "That's an heir ring, and should he be the last male heir when the Lord Black dies, or passes it on willingly, he will take the position, making him one of the richest people in Britain," he said excitedly.

"There's so much I have to learn about the Wizarding world," Jasmine groaned. Leaning over to pet Corvin, Rigel comments, "I had help from my great-grandfather this month, but most of this is in the History of Magic textbook that's in our syllabus." Which seemed to make her face brighter as she felt hopeful that she could catch up in her understanding of our new world. Returning to reading the textbook as Ron explained quidditch to the scrawny, absolutely not athletic girl, the compartment is peaceful for an hour until a knock comes from the door.

"Anything from the trolley dears?" Jasmine leapt to her feet, almost visibly salivating at the thought of candy and sweets, while Ron mumbled about having sandwiches. While Jasmine spent a ridiculous eleven sickles and seven knuts, grabbing some of everything, the Black heir purchased only some of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and a few chocolate frogs, fascinated to see them in person. As Jasmine, just like her male counterpart kindly offered to share the sweets she'd bought with Ron, I pulled out a small jar of smoked crickets for Corvin, feeding the gentle, if deadly bird from my palm.

"You're brave," Ron notes. "I've heard regular ravens feast on meat, and eat the dead bodies on battlefields, let alone one like that. He looks like he'd eat a small kneazle."

"Corvin's my familiar, so he won't hurt me," Rigel explains, turning back to his familiar and cooing at him like he would another pet, "Will you buddy? No, you won't. Or you won't get any tasty crickets."

"A familiar? Wow! They're like super rare."

"I saw one at the Magical Menagerie. A beautiful snowy owl called Hedwig."

"Hedwig's a familiar?" Jasmine asked, "Hagrid bought her for me, but I had her fly ahead to Hogwarts." Corvin crowed, probably asking why he hadn't done that. "I guess I got lucky. But what makes them special?"

"Well," Rigel explains, "Familiars live for as long as their master, and are smarter than normal, sometimes having magical capabilities."

"Woah," she said, completely astounded by the idea Hedwig would be her life companion. Eating one of the chocolate frogs and handing the card to Ron, Rigel munched on the charmed frog, wondering why it had to taste like cheap chocolate.

"Woah, it's Agrippa, he's one of the two that I'm missing."

"Keep it. I don't collect them."

"Wicked, thanks, dude."

Watching the kerfuffle, Jasmine opens one of hers, watching as the frog leaps out of the train. "Albus Dumbledore," she read. "Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor 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 ten-pin bowling."

"I've got about 4 of him," he said more interested in the unopen packs.

"Help yourself," she offered, unleashing the rabid redhead upon the helpless, victimised frogs.

Rigel contented himself with revising his textbook as his compatriots tasted and tested different flavoured beans, occasionally looking out the window to watch the countryside go by. No longer were they passing neatly done fields, but woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

*knock knock. Shhh Click*

A small, round-faced Neville opened the door and asked the group for information. "Sorry, but have any of you seen a toad?" Shaking their heads, the compartment removed the now-whining Neville. The peace lasted approximately forty seconds before the whiny boy returned, being dragged by a bushy-haired Emma Watson-looking Hermione, the extreme over-sized front teeth described from the books being far less obvious in reality, and he'd seen worse teeth before.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said, her large front teeth and bossy voice making her voice even more frustrating than in the movies. Ron, who'd used the forty seconds of peace to bring up a new spell his brothers had taught him, was caught off-guard by the girl, and came across even more blunt than usual.

"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." Rigel was seriously disgusted by the girl's arrogance, bossing around others and acting condescending despite being a thoughtless twit. 'She may have an excellent memory, but reciting crap from books, which sometimes contradict themselves, does not make one intelligent or wise,' he thought.

Ron looked nervous, and rightfully so as he recited the spell, "Sunshine daisy, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow." Though a bright yellow flash shot from the wand, there was little change to the rat itself, who simply squeaked at being awoken.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" she asked snootily. "Well, it's not very good is it? I've only tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. 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, I just hope it will be enough — I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

Rigel, Ron and Jasmine looked at each other in amazement. 'The films did nothing to encapsulate just how much she natters on. Does she even breathe?' "I'm Ron Weasley," the red-headed disappointment muttered, unable to look the chatterbox in the eyes.

"Jasmine Potter." Hermione's eyebrows raised.

"The Jasmine Potter? The girl who lived? I've read all about you in the "Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century." Jasmine cringed as she heard Hermione speak, sinking back further into the chair.

"Really, I've never read it," she replied.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. She then turned to Rigel, who'd turned back to his book and attempted to ignore her prattling.

"And who are you? It's rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you."

"I was under the impression you were talking AT us, rather than to us, but I see your point," he said, closing his book again frustratedly. "I'm heir Rigel Black, first-year. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance," he spoke, taking her hand and pressing his lips to her knuckles as is expected of him.

"Oh, of the Wizengamot. I can't understand why some families have dedicated seats just because of their magical bloodlines, it doesn't seem fair."

"Well Miss Granger, the seats were given to the families that built Magical Britain, and as the families fell and died out over time, were passed to Houses that had performed noble acts, serving, and defending the realm. Perhaps you should keep your comments to yourself until you have had time to adjust to a new society, rather than making rash judgments based on a few months' readings." Rigel had remained calm through his explanation, detailing the same history his great-grandfather had given him a few weeks ago while exploring the Wizengamot and noble families, looking between her and the nervous Neville who was observing him fearfully. Jasmine was looking at him differently, watching as he calmed himself and spoke calmly and politely, despite his obvious dislike of the girl. Hermione however, was incensed, refusing to look at the noble boy and instead turning to the spell-failing ginger and the hero of Britain.

"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. … Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.

"Thank fuck she's gone, you looked ready to wallop her mate," Ron said, looking at me with a bright smile. 'Somehow, I have the feeling that with Ron's clinginess, I'll be forced to befriend him. At least pretend to, or risk making a huge scene and distancing myself from the Gryffindors, of which half of them are Weasleys, and the plot, as there is no way Ron would let go of Jasmine's coattails.'

"Not unless she hit me first," he replied, being a true gender equality advocate.

"Well whatever house she's in, I hope I'm not in it," said Ron.

"What house are your brother's in?" asked Jasmine.

"Gryffindor. All of them, my mum and dad too, I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

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

"Yeah," said Ron, slumping back into his chair and returning his wand to his luggage.

"In addition to Merlin, of course," Rigel added. "Gryffindor takes the brave and noble, Hufflepuff the loyal. Ravenclaw takes those that value knowledge above all, and Slytherin those with ambition and cunning."

"So not every dark wizard comes from Slytherin? There's good people there too?"

"Well duh, of course not," Rigel said, chiding himself for the slip in speech. "I've heard of death eaters from Ravenclaw, and read about famed wizards and heroes from Slytherin. Though, you should definitely avoid Slytherin Jasmine."

"What? But you just said the house wasn't just evil people."

"And it's not," the boy started, "but some of the pure-blood families, that dominate Slytherin, were and will be children of death-eaters, which would put you in grave danger should you choose to join them." Jasmine paled at the idea of a house filled with the children of the maniacs that followed Voldemort and killed her parents.

"Don't worry Jasmine, we'll help fend off the slimy snakes," Ron said, having seemingly forgotten his failure to perform a spell just a few minutes ago.

"Don't antagonise the Slytherins Ron, Lord Black told me that despite any internal issues, they will face outsiders together, so attacking one will bring conflict with the whole house, from first years to seventh." 'Am I exaggerating, yes, but I don't want to have to deal with annoying little pranks all the damn time,' he thought.