Chapter 33: The Train to Hogwarts
The rhythmic chugging of the Hogwarts Express was a steady hum in the background, its motion a soothing lull as the countryside blurred past the windows. Students chattered excitedly in the corridors, reunited after a summer apart, eager to begin another year at Hogwarts.
Barrett Wayne sat alone in his compartment, his posture composed, his expression unreadable. To an outside observer, he looked like any other first-year—a young boy, dressed in fine yet understated wizarding robes, with a book open on his lap. But those who truly observed would see the subtle differences.
His movements were precise, controlled. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flickered to the corridor every now and then, watching. Assessing.
It was his first true exposure to the next generation of Britain's magical society. He listened, noting the way certain students carried themselves with the arrogance of pureblood upbringing, the way others clung together in nervous excitement. He recognized the loud boasting of a boy who would later turn out to be Draco Malfoy, already claiming dominance over his peers. And then there were the quiet ones, the careful ones—those who, like him, observed before acting.
Barrett had no intention of standing out unnecessarily. Not yet.
He turned a page in his book, appearing relaxed. But his mind was already planning several steps ahead.
The door to his compartment slid open.
Barrett glanced up casually, taking in the two girls standing at the entrance.
Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis.
They were both dressed in expensive robes, their postures graceful, their expressions neutral but assessing. Daphne, with her pale blonde hair and icy blue eyes, was composed, her gaze sharp as she took in the compartment. Tracey, more expressive, looked slightly annoyed at the lack of available seating elsewhere.
Barrett didn't react immediately. Instead, he met Daphne's gaze with quiet patience, neither inviting nor rejecting their presence.
Daphne raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his lack of immediate response. Most students, when faced with her silent scrutiny, would rush to introduce themselves or shift nervously. He did neither.
Without a word, Barrett made a small gesture—subtle, yet unmistakably confident. A simple flick of his fingers toward the empty seats, as if granting permission rather than offering hospitality.
Daphne's lips curled slightly, amused. Tracey, less patient, took the seat immediately. After a moment's hesitation, Daphne sat as well, crossing her legs elegantly.
The compartment door slid shut.
For a while, there was only silence. Barrett continued reading, seemingly unbothered by their presence. Tracey shifted, clearly expecting him to introduce himself, but Daphne simply studied him, waiting.
Finally, she spoke.
"I don't think I've seen you before. Are you from a wizarding family?"
Her tone was polite, but there was an underlying curiosity. Not demanding, but expectant.
Barrett turned the page in his book before answering. His voice was smooth, unhurried. "You could say that. My family prefers to stay out of unnecessary politics."
Daphne's gaze sharpened slightly. A vague answer. Carefully worded. Most Muggle-borns would be eager to explain their background. Most purebloods would boast about their lineage. He did neither.
"Most families are part of something," she continued, testing him. "You'll find Hogwarts is full of… expectations."
Barrett finally closed his book, resting it on his lap. He met her gaze fully now, his expression unreadable but the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
"Expectations are only useful if they align with one's goals," he said calmly. "Otherwise, they're just noise."
Daphne blinked, slightly caught off guard. That was… not the answer she had expected.
Most first-years would either boast or try to impress her. Others would shrink under her scrutiny. But this boy had neither flinched nor attempted to please her.
For the first time in a while, Daphne was intrigued.
Tracey, on the other hand, was far less subtle. She leaned forward, curiosity outweighing tact.
"Are you rich?" she asked bluntly.
Barrett chuckled, a quiet sound, neither offended nor amused. "Does it matter?"
Tracey frowned. "Well, if you are, that means you can afford the good stuff. Private tutors, rare books, custom-made wands—"
"I'm comfortable," Barrett interrupted smoothly, ending that line of questioning.
Daphne noted how effortlessly he deflected. No boasting, but no denial either. A skilled conversationalist.
She decided then that he was worth keeping an eye on.
The compartment door slid open again. This time, the interruption was not as welcome.
Draco Malfoy stood at the entrance, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. His pale face was twisted into a smirk, his posture oozing the confidence of someone raised to believe they were superior to all around them.
His gaze swept over the compartment, lingering on Daphne first—acknowledging her status—before flickering to Barrett.
Something in Barrett's demeanor made him pause.
Most first-years reacted to him in one of two ways: they either sought his approval, or they shrank away from him. But Barrett did neither.
He simply met Draco's gaze with a neutral, unreadable expression.
Draco's smirk faltered slightly. He didn't like that.
"I don't recognize you," Draco said, attempting to regain control of the conversation.
Barrett inclined his head slightly. "Likewise."
Daphne hid a small smirk behind her hand.
Draco frowned, but before he could push further, the train jolted slightly, and he scoffed. "Well, you'll learn soon enough how things work at Hogwarts."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering behind him.
Tracey let out a quiet laugh. "That was entertaining."
Daphne didn't laugh, but she looked at Barrett with renewed interest. "You don't react the way most people do."
Barrett simply returned to his book. "That's because I'm not most people."
Later, as the train continued its journey, Neville Longbottom stumbled into the compartment, looking flustered and anxious.
"S-Sorry, have you seen a toad?" he asked breathlessly. "I lost Trevor."
Barrett observed him for a moment before stating simply, "Yes."
Neville's face brightened. "You have?"
Barrett nodded. With a small pulse of focus, he located the toad without moving from his seat. "Three compartments down. Under the seat."
Neville gaped, then beamed. "Thanks!" He rushed out.
As the door shut, Barrett leaned back in his seat, his expression thoughtful.
This was… different.
In the original timeline, it had been Hermione who helped Neville look for Trevor. That search had led her to Harry and Ron's compartment, which had led to their first meeting and eventual friendship.
But now… Hermione wasn't looking for the toad.
Would this change things?
Would Harry, Ron, and Hermione still form the same friendship? Would the infamous Golden Trio even exist?
Barrett smirked slightly to himself.
He supposed he'd find out soon enough.