The Boy: Brandon Dursely

Chapter 6: Hogwarts Express

The long train was whistling, calling all those who would require its service. Petunia, Vernon and Dudley Dursely each gave their goodbyes to Brandon and Sebastian the Direwolf, for Bran was finally going to Hogwarts. Petunia shooed him after a few more kisses and hugs.

"Promise you'll write, Bran," Petunia reminded. Brandon nodded, his heart having a sinking feeling. He hated leaving home, but he was excited to learn about magic and maybe about his biological Mum, too.

"Last call to all for Hogwarts!" the conductor shouted and Brandon tightened his grip on Sebastian. He kissed his Mum and Dad and hugged Dudely, who was off to Smelting's for his schooling. He dragged his trunk and went inside the train.

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The train was filled with many students of different ages, and Brandon felt left out. Everybody seemed to know their place and he didn't.

He slowly made his way through all the train's cabins until he passed by a cabin where a lone boy sat. The boy was looking out the train's window and he looked sleepy.

"Uhm, excuse me, sir," Brandon started, not forgetting his manners. "Do you- do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else seemed full." The boy looked back and him and revealed a pair of blue eyes that seemed to be misplaced on his head with his flaming red hair.

The boy shrugged, "Uhm, sure. Yeah, but I don't really think you need to call me sir, though. I think were the same age."

Relieved, Brandon dragged his trunk and slid it under the seat, "Thank you," he said as he sat down. Extending a hand, he introduced himself, "I'm Brandon Dursely, by the way. You are?"

"Ron Weasely. You a Muggleborn?" Ron asked as he clasped Bran's hand in his for a handshake.

"Uhm, yeah. In a way."

"Must be weird for you, now."

"Yes, well," Bran hesitated, "I'm not used to magic. But even if I may be Muggle raised, my Mum and Dad's wizards."

"What?" Ron asked, clearly a bit confused. "How did that happen?"

"My real Mum and Dad died when I was young," Bran explained patiently. "My Aunt and Uncle raised and adopted me. They are Muggles, because my Mum's a muggleborn. I'm in first year."

"Oh, now I see," Ron smiled, finally understanding. "I'm a first year, too. But I've got the Twins with me at school. I've got five more brothers including the Twins and one sister. You got any siblings, uh, Brandon, right?"

"Yeah. But you may call me Bran, if you want. That's a lot of siblings, I've only got one. He's name's Dudley."

"Lucky you!" Ron exclaimed, with a hint jealousy in his tone. It would've been better, he mused, if they weren't so many of them. Although, Ron loved each and every one of his siblings. It's much fun with so many playmates all at ones, so he didn't resent his familial situation that much. "So, what's your team?" Ron said with a cluck of his tongue.

Now, Bran was the one who looked confused.

"You know, Quidditch team?" Ron expounded.

Brandon heard about Quidditch from his Aunt's/Mum's tales. It was like rugby, baseball and soccer rolled in one, but it was played on brooms, flying brooms. It made his blood heat up. He couldn't wait for his first flying experience! He read about it from one of the books he got. It even had a list of teams, but he can't seem to remember one, so he shook his head instead.

"Do you even know what Quidditch is?!" Ron's voice raised an octave and he waved his arms and rose to his feet.

"I know what Quidditch is," Bran answered gently, mustering up patience. "But I don't know about teams."