The Biggest What If

"Sure, go ahead." Harry let him.

"Thanks." The boy sat down across from him, biting a sandwich. 

He tore half of it and offered it to Harry who took it hesitantly. He offered the boy his chocolates and the boy took one. 

"I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley." The ginger-haired boy said as if just remembering to introduce himself.

"Oh, I'm Harry. Harry Potter." He introduced himself. He knew by the way Ron's eyes lit up that he recognised that name.

"Bloody hell, your dad was a chaser right? James Potter?" Ron asked excitedly.

"Yup." Harry agreed happily. 

He didn't mind Ron being interested in it despite the fact he never liked the cameras and the interviewers at all. 

Harry hated all the attention he got for being a famous quidditch player's son. But he supposed he wouldn't mind it if Ron was blown away a little.

The interviewers didn't know his father as the man that could illegally turn into a deer, just as the charming quidditch player that loved his wife and kids (which he did) and broke multiple records in the matches.

"That's bloody incredible!" He winced as he said that, "Sorry, my mum keeps reminding me to not swear but it keeps slippin' out." 

"It's fine. My mum swears a lot." He informed Ron.

"Really? Lucky you. She writes the Times of Magic, right?" He asks again, devouring his sandwich completely.

"Yeah, she puts a few swears in them. I think that's why they became so popular, teenagers love it." Harry repeated what his mother had told him once about how her main audience always consisted of teens.

"I can see why." Ron remarked, his eyes drifting out to the window as the train moved through different lands.

Hedwig screeched a bit from her cage and Harry calmed her down by holding an empty hand out for her to peck and letting out a monotone 'Ouch' everytime she planted her beak on his fingers.

Ron stared at the pure white owl, "She feels happy by pecking you?"

"I doubt she's dumb enough to think she's actually hurting me." Harry stated.

The owl hooted as if she was agreeing with him and went back to picking at his fingers with her beak. Harry let out a few more monotone pained noises for her satisfaction.

"She just likes the noises, I believe." Ron watched in amusement, "I've got a tiny owl myself. My sister named it Pigwedgion. I'd have laughed and told her to shove off if mum hadn't let her name it."

"My younger brother thought it was a good idea to name her Snowy, she's my owl so luckily I was given the right to name her." Harry snorted.

"Still a better name than Pigwidgeon." He told him, holding his arm out to show the smallest brown owl you'd ever see.

Harry was wondering how he didn't notice the owl before when someone came to the bunk and both their heads turned towards her.

"Has anybody seen a toad? A boy named Neville Longbottom lost one." A girl about their age asked. 

She had dark bushy hair and deep brown eyes. Her voice was rather bossy and you'd think she was a monarch by the way she held her head high.

"No, I don't think so." Ron answered through a mouth full of chocolate.

"Wait Longbottom? Is the toad's name Trevor?" Harry asked.

"Yes! Have you seen it?" She probed enthusiastically.

"Sorry, no. I just recognise the name. I know Neville." 

Neville's father knew Harry's, so he and his younger brother had been to Godric's Hollow a few times. 

Neville always lost Trevor and since Matthew was so afraid of frogs, there would be a panicked search all over the place.

The girl looked disappointed but she still held herself high. She glanced judgmentally at Ron's nose.

"I'm Hermione Granger, nice to meet you, by the way." She told them both.

Ron just shrugged at her which must've made her mad. She huffed before saying, "You've got dirt on your nose, by the way. Over here." 

She pointed at the side of her nose where he had dirt on. Ron wiped it away angrily as she walked off. 

Harry held in his laugh as Ron grumbled something about her being 'insufferable'.

An old lady with dimpled cheeks came to them with a trolley full of sweets,

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Harry bought a bag of Bertie Botts. Ron just held up a bag of homemade sandwiches and disappointedly muttered he was good.

"Do you have any siblings?" Harry asked Ron, remembering him from the train station. Ron had been one of the tangerine-haired boys the woman was scolding.

He handed Ron his Bertie Bott's bag and he took a few beans out of it. He offered Harry another sandwich which he politely declined.

"Yes actually, There's seven of us. I have five older brothers and a younger sister." He answered. 

So he was the second youngest then, like Matthew. Or Jamie now since baby six was on the way.

"Do you have any siblings?" Ron asked, gagging from the bean, "Eugh, intestine flavour."

"I have four younger siblings. Fifth one's on the way, they'll be born somewhere in January, we're guessing." He answered, thinking of what mum would name the baby. 

Mum and dad usually decided on names together but took turns on who'd have the final say. This time was mum's turn.

"So you're the eldest child. Bill's the eldest in my family, he graduated from Hogwarts and became a Curse-breaker." Ron said softly, he must've been quite fond of Bill, "What do you think you'll be when you're an adult?"

"I'll worry about getting through Hogwarts first, then think about my future job. My grades will probably slim my options for me anyway." Harry joked.

Best not to think so far into the future, the correct decision would come to him when he needed it to.

Ron snorted as he carefully nibbled on one of the beans. His face immediately scrunched up in disgust.

"Ew! Spoilt milk flavour? I didn't even know they made these anymore!"

"It's called all-flavoured beans for a reason."

"I know!"

The train went on.