It was raining. Again. It was always raining in London, especially when you didn't need it to rain. Especially when they were doing roadwork on the side streets by the King's Cross station. Especially when all of them—Harry, Ron, Hermione, and all the rest of the Weasleys had been stuffed into two cars with all of their trunks (plus all the new books they needed for their fifth year at Hogwarts school for wizards—Advanced Dark Arts, Are Your Planets it the Right Spot?, and the extra heavy Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures, the Advanced Edition).

Harry was attempting to unlodge his large trunk from in between Hermione's and Ginny's. It wasn't working—he wasn't strong enough—and every second he spent groaning and trying to pull harder, the wetter he was getting. Everything else around the station seemed to be going perfect for everyone else; the slightly larger man at the newsstand was selling the latest tabloids like hot cakes, the people walked in and out of the front doors in a rhythmic, mechanical motion, all under the shadow of the towering clock of St. Pancras.

"So, you see your precious Vicky over the holidays?" Came a sneer from Ron as he came around the back of the car to help Harry while Mr. Weasley met him on the other side to pull out Ginny's trunk.

"Shut up, Ron, before I stick something up your…!"

"Hermione! Don't!" Harry called agitatedly. "Come help me, will you? If you two keep bickering we're going to be late!"

Ron stuck his tongue out at the girl and went back to whatever he had been doing before.

"Humph. Well, anyway, he started it." She had had a permanent scowl on her face all morning from being wet and annoyed. Harry had not tried in the least to bring up the subject of Victor Krum and how he had asked Hermione to visit him over the summer holiday in Bulgaria—it was a very sore, dug out spot between his two best friends and he did not want them to start.

Hermione reached deep into the back of the car to help Harry pull out the trunk and plop it with a splash in the gutter before getting her own (which should have been much heavier as he knew she was going to study a lot harder than the he was, but she just lifted it easily).

Once the whole crew was standing under the green awning, right under the first 'S' in the words "King's Cross", Mr. Weasley turned to Harry. "I am going to call your Aunt Petunia on one of those tely-what-sits. Have a good year, Harry, and try not to get yourself killed!"

He smiled. "Thank you. I'll be sure to. Thank you for the ride." Harry was really trying to be polite, but Ron's father never seemed to learn about muggle operations very well, and besides that, he really hadn't needed to hear about his Aunt Petunia at that moment when he was already more than a little annoyed.

"Come on, children. We're going to be late if we don't hurry." Came Mrs. Weasley's motherly voice from behind the group, Harry stuck between Ron and Hermione, who were giving each other weird looks. He really didn't want this to be a bad beginning, and end up like the last year, when he and Ron hadn't spoken.

Once inside, ach of them went through the barrier between platform nine and ten trying not to look suspicious (everyone looked suspicious in the station anyway—weird crowd) and not trying to attract the attention of the bagel vendor across the way who was nervously looking up from a bucket of cream cheese and a newspaper.

On platform nine and three quarters, they immediately relaxed and said good bye to Mrs. Weasley, stepped onto the Hogwarts Express, found a place for their trunks, and sat down tiredly in a compartment of their own.

"So," Ron began, the first to speak since they were at the car. "Who are you taking to the Winter Ball?" The question was a direct hit at Hermione.

"Don't be silly, that isn't until Christmas." She scoffed, and turned to Harry, who was seated next to her, across from Ron, so that she didn't have to answer any more.

"The what?" Harry was snapped out of his temporary daydream.

"The Winter Ball." His friend gave him a very strange look. "You know. It's going to be somewhat like last year but just for Hogwart's students."

"Yeah," Hermione added, "Didn't you hear?"

He was ashamed that he hadn't—he had been trying to avoid the subject of dances to avoid a tiff—but the Dursley's weren't too up on wizard news, either. But he just nodded. "Oh, yeah."

"So, who do you fancy taking?" Ron started eagerly.

"Come off it! You need to be thinking about more worth while things right now than a dance that's months off." She scolded. "Like the classes we have this year."

"I don't care about classes until we get to school." And as if on cue, the train slowly began to crawl out of the station.

"Humph. Anyway, why do you care who we want to take?" Hermione shot back, the two not even letting Harry get a word in edgewise, which was all right by him because all he really wanted to do was sleep. Sure, he was happy about going back to school, but the morning had been very hectic.

"'cuz. I like to know about our little Herm-own-ninny's love life." He did quite a good impression of Victor's accent.

"Stop it, Ron!" Her voice was filled with a mix of annoyance and anger, but she managed not to uncross her arms.

"Why do you care what I say, anyway?" He grinned too much like his brothers, practically repeating what she'd thrown at him.

"I don't appreciate being made fun of. If you want a friend to tease, FIND ANOTHER ONE!" She stood up and glared down at him; even Harry hadn't expected cool-headed Hermione to get angry at just a few words. "Because I am going to go find another place to sit until you quit being a GIT!"

With that, she stormed out, red faced and looking about to cry, to find some other fifth year's to talk to.

"Geez. Touchy, touchy." Ron turned to Harry, who was staring wide-eyed at the whole situation.

"I don't think she was completely wrong. That was kind of mean." He really meant what he said that time.

Ron scowled at him angrily. "Fine, side with her. You always do, anyway, always!"

"But…No…that's not what…Ron!" Harry sputtered, weakly. He was in no mood to argue, but it always headed in that direction, didn't it? And they'd only been together for less than a day. Fine team they made. Fine friends they were, and the train was just starting to speed up. This was going to be a long day.