Silver tendrils of mist hung low on that morning of September the first. Abnormally chilled, spontaneous gusts of air marked the unusualness of such a morning, for Septembers had begun much in the same way as the next for many years leading to this particular one. It was as if the weather had suddenly grown bored of its usual routine, and had decided to do something about it, namely to bring a cold spell upon a remote corner of England's countryside. This chapter has been edited.

Haley stared pensively out of the window of the Hogwarts Express. Droplets of rain had begun to collect upon the pane, and she watched as they slid along it in narrow rivulets. Her breath formed small clouds and obscured her view of the outside. The group had returned to their compartment shortly after Amber had choked out an explanation to a befuddled and rather upset Harry, who had then roughly ushered them into the corridor.

On Saturday morning at eleven o'clock, a small cluster of girls could be seen crossing the Hogwarts grounds to the Quidditch pitch. Three had brooms perched against their shoulders and were garbed in makeshift Quidditch jerseys. Though none of their party would admit to it, their accoutrements had been scavenged from various family members during the holidays, none of whom knew their belongings were to disappear until the following summer.