CH 6: THE JOURNEY FROM PLATFORM NINE AND THREE-QUARTERS


Marly's last month with the Dursleys wasn't fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of her he wouldn't stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't shut Marly in her cupboard, force her to do anything, or shout at her—in fact, they didn't speak to her at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Marly in it were empty. Although this was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while.

Marly kept to her room, with her new owl for company. She had decided to call the owl Hedwig, after a warrior witch-queen she'd read about in A History of Magic. Her school books were very interesting. She lay on her bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Petunia didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before she went to sleep, Marly ticked off another day on the piece of paper she had tied to the wall, counting down to September the first. In the first few days, she picked through all the things Dudley had thrown away, packing most of the books and several games into her trunk, but left the rest of it alone.

On the last day of August she thought she'd better speak to her aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so she went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. She cleared her throat to let them know she was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room.

"Er—Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening.

"Er—I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to—to go to Hogwarts."

Uncle Vernon grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?"

Grunt. Marly supposed that meant yes.

"Thank you. Er—oh—I'd forgotten to tell you—Professor McGonagall said that if you do take me, and get me there early, before eleven o'clock, Dudley will turn back to normal."

She was about to go back upstairs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.

"Funny way to get to a witches' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"

Marly didn't say anything.

"Where is this school, anyway?"

"I don't know," said Marly, realizing this for the first time. "Professor McGonagall didn't say. But I think it must be somewhere there's not a lot of M—non-magical people." She pulled the ticket out of her pocket. She didn't want to call them 'Muggles' in case it offended Uncle Vernon and made him shut her in her cupboard again.

"I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," she read.

Her aunt and uncle stared.

"Platform what?"

"Nine and three-quarters."

"Don't talk rubbish," said Uncle Vernon. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."

"It's on my ticket…Professor McGonagall explained it, it's hidden from Muggles."

"Barking," said Uncle Vernon, "howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

"Why are you going to London?" Marly asked, trying to keep things friendly.

"Going to the circus—and the hospital," growled Uncle Vernon. "If that woman doesn't keep her word, we've got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings, and something done about his face."

Marly woke at five o'clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. She got up and pulled on her new jeans and a T-shirt because she didn't want to walk into the station in her witch's robes—she'd change on the train. She checked her Hogwarts list yet again to make sure she had everything, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage, and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. An hour into waiting she went down to the kitchen to cook breakfast for them all—trying to keep things friendly. An hour after that, Marly's trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys' car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Marly, and they had set off.

They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Marly's trunk into a cart and wheeled it into the station for her. Marly thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

"Well, there you are, girl. Platform nine—platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

"Well, of course you can't see it," said Marly, praying that Professor McGonagall had been right, for if she wasn't then Marly was about to make an ever greater fool of herself. "Goodbye, Uncle Vernon."

She put Hedwig's cage on top of her trunk, gathered her courage, and pushed the cart towards the barrier. People jostled her on their way to platforms nine and ten. Marly walked more quickly. She was going to smash right into that barrier and then she'd be in trouble—leaning forward on her cart, she broke into a heavy run—the barrier was coming nearer and nearer—she wouldn't be able to stop—the cart was out of control—she was a foot away—she closed her eyes ready for the crash—

It didn't come…she kept running…she opened her eyes.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A signed overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Marly looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. A wave of relief swept over her: she had done it.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Marly pushed her cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. She passed a girl with bushy brown hair who was saying, "Don't worry, I won't surrender to the allure of sugar, Mother."

"Oh, Hermione, I'll miss you," she heard the tall man next to her sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

"Give us a look, Lee, go on."

The boy lifted the lid off a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

Marly pressed on through the crowd until she found an empty compartment near the end of the train. She put Hedwig inside first and then, because of the Light-Weight Charm on her trunk, easily lifted it into the train and tucked it into a compartment. She then pushed her cart into a train of them on the platform and hurried back inside.

The bushy-haired girl from before was struggling to lift her own trunk inside the train. "Don't mind if I sit with you, do I?" she panted, nodding towards the compartment Marly had chosen. "Oh—I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

"No, I don't mind—here, let me help," Marly offered. She took the other end of the trunk and tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise it, and twice she dropped it painfully on her foot. "What do you have in here, Hermione Granger?"

"Books," said the other sheepishly, smiling at her and revealing large front teeth. "Lots and lots of books."

"Blimey—you should have gotten a trunk with a Light-Weight Charm, like mine," said Marly.

"Want a hand?" It was a tall, freckled redhead.

"Yes, please," Hermione panted, and Marly nodded.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!" An identical redhead came over. With the twins' help, Hermione's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment, opposite from Marly's.

"Thanks," said Hermione, and Marly nodded, pushing her sweaty hair out of her eyes.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Marly's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you—?"

"She is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Marly.

"What?" said Marly.

"Marlene Potter," chorused the twins.

"Oh, her," said Marly. "I mean, yes, I am."

The two boys gawked at her, and Marly felt herself turning red. Then, to her relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mum."

With a last look at Marly, the twins hopped off the train.

"Are you really?" said Hermione, sitting down in the compartment. Marly sat on the other side, perching on the seat above her trunk. "I know all about you, of course—I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" said Marly, feeling dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad."

"Er," said Marly. "I only found out that I was a famous witch a month ago…I've been through my schoolbooks and all, but nothing mentioned me. I've met Professors Flitwick and McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick said he'd hoped I'd be in his House, Ravenclaw, but I'm really not sure."

The train began to move. Marly saw a plump redheaded woman and a younger girl that both looked to be related to the twins, Fred and George, waving and running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed.

"I read that Ravenclaw House has its own personal library, and there are books in there that you can't find in the main library," said Hermione. "It sounds incredible. Have you tried to do any magic, Marlene? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard—I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough…"

"Don't worry so much," said Marly. "Professor McGonagall said that everyone starts at the beginning—I know about as much as you do, probably less, actually. Could you call me Marly, my friends call me Marly…"

To her surprise, Hermione turned pink and smiled largely. "Are you my friend, then?"

"Of course," Marly said, surprised. "Unless you don't want to be friends."

"I'd love to be your friend!" she said eagerly. "So Professor McGonagall came and told you that you're a witch, too? Who took you around Diagon Alley? She came and got me and two other Muggleborn girls the same day—the beginning of July, just a week after I got my letter, and explained everything to me."

Marly blinked. She'd never met anyone who talked so much and so fast. "Er—yeah—Professor McGonagall took me around Diagon Alley…she and Hagrid, the gamekeeper, came to fetch me. My—relatives, my aunt and uncle, are Muggles, and they don't like magic much, so they didn't want to let me go, and Hagrid had to persuade them."

"Really? Wow. You're famous, though, you defeated You-Know-Who, how could you not know?"

She'd never had any money in her life before, and she told Hermione so, all about having to wear Dudley's old clothes ("what! But you're a girl!") and never getting proper birthday presents ("what! I'll have to fix that next year, sorry I've missed it this year).

"…and until Hagrid and Professor McGonagall told me, I didn't know anything about being a witch or about my parents or Voldemort—"

Hermione gasped.

"What?" said Marly.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Hermione, sounding both shocked and impressed.

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Marly, "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn…I bet," she added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying her a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be. We'll study together, and do our homework together…if that's all right with you," said Hermione anxiously.

Marly, greatly relieved, said, "Oh, that'd be great!"

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Marly, who hadn't had the stomach to eat at breakfast, leapt to her feet, and Hermione followed.

Marly had never had any money for candy with the Dursleys, and now that she had pockets rattling with gold and silver she was ready to buy as many Mars Bars as she could carry—but the woman didn't have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Marly had never seen in her life. Not wanting to miss anything, she got some of everything and paid the woman twelve silver Sickles and received twenty-two bronze Knuts in change.

Hermione poked through the cart, frowning, but sat back down without buying anything. She stared as Marly brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it into an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," said Marly, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.

"Those are all full of sugar," said Hermione in disapproval. "My parents are dentists, they would have a heart attack if they knew." She took out a small picnic basket and opened. There were four sandwiches and a thermos inside. She pulled one of the sandwiches apart and sighed. "She always gives me way too much."

"Swap you for one of these," said Marly, holding up a pasty. "They're good—come on, just one won't do you any harm."

"Oh, you don't want this, it's covered in mayonnaise," said Hermione. "Honestly—doesn't want me having any sugar but gives me mayonnaise on every sandwich—"

"Go on, have a pasty," said Marly, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Hermione, eating their way through all Marly's pasties, cakes, and candies (Hermione ate one sandwich before giving in).

"What are these, d'you suppose?" Marly asked Hermione, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?" She was starting to feel that nothing would surprise her.

"No, I don't think so," Hermione said, looking closely at it. "Open it and see."

Marly unwrapped her Chocolate Frog and picked up the card inside. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and moustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore!"

"Don't tell me you've never seen a picture of Dumbledore? He's even in A History of Magic, because it mentions his duel with Grindelwald," said Hermione. "I didn't know those came with cards—here, can I have a frog? I might get someone interesting—thanks—oh, read yours aloud, I want to see what it says about him."

Marly turned over her card and read:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and ten pin bowling.

Marly turned the card back over and saw, to her astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!"

"Really? I suppose it must be enchanted, just like the portraits at Hogwarts, and magical pictures—the subjects all move. He'll be back. Ooh, Morgana!" said Hermione.

"Help yourself to the rest," said Marly. "I've never seen a picture move before, you know."

"Neither have I—but it says in Hogwarts, a History that all the portraits in Hogwarts are enchanted."

Marly stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on her card and gave her a small smile. Hermione was just as interested in the cards as she was, although she didn't like eating the wriggly chocolate frogs. Soon she had not only Dumbledore and Morgana—for Hermione didn't want to keep the cards, just read them—but Hengist of Woodcraft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, and Merlin. Then she unwrapped one of Paracelsus, and gasped.

Paracelsus (1493-1541): Contemporary of Copernicus and Leonardo Da Vinci. A medical genius whose bold theories challenged medieval thought. Credited with discovering Parseltongue, the language of snakes.

"Oh, hey! It says this wizard—Paracelsus—could talk to snakes! But that's not that uncommon, is it? I mean, I can do it," said Marly. "I talked to a boa constrictor in a zoo once—then I accidentally set him free. He's probably in Brazil by now."

"Marly, how would a snake cross the Atlantic Ocean?" asked Hermione. "You're a Parselmouth! That's said to be a Dark talent, though, Marly. The last person who could speak to snakes was You-Know-Who."

Marly pulled a face. "That's horrible! Talking to snakes isn't bad. That boa constrictor called me amigo, which means friend, I think."

"Well, you may not think it's bad, Marly, but the rest of the wizarding world does. Slytherin could do it, and nearly everyone thinks he was evil."

Marly shrugged. "Maybe I'll bring a snake to school next year and speak to it in front of some people, I mean, I'm the Girl Who Lived, if anyone can change their opinions than I can." She didn't like her fame, the attention it brought, but if it could be used for good, she'd use it.

The next one she unwrapped was the druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose. She snorted, put the Chocolate Frog cards aside, and opened a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"Be careful, Marly—when they say every flavour, they mean every flavour," said Hermione, looking at the other bag of Bertie Bott's. "It says it includes normal flavours like…chocolate, peppermint, and marmalade…and then it also lists things like spinach, liver, and tripe!"

Marly picked out a pale green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into one corner. "Bleaaargh—sprouts!"

She had a good time eating the Every Flavour Beans, even though Hermione wouldn't touch them. Marly got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny grey one, which turned out to be pepper.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and a round-faced boy came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!:

"He'll turn up," said Marly.

Hermione shot Marly a look. "What's your name?"

"N-Neville, Neville Longbottom," he sniffled.

"I'm Hermione, Neville. I'll help you look." She stood and went to leave the compartment with him.

"Er—wait, Hermione, aren't there prefects on the train? Wouldn't they know how to find him?" said Marly.

"Oh—yes! You're quite right, Marly. I'll go with you, Neville, we'll go and find a prefect shall we?"

"Thank you!" cried Neville, and they left.

Marly stuffed the little trash bag in the corner of the compartment with the empty wrappers and put all the Chocolate Frog cards into her backpack. She pulled out a book about Quidditch—she was still wondering how it was played, and she hadn't gotten around to reading it over the month of August—and started reading.

A little while later, the compartment slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville or Hermione back from looking for Neville's toad.

Three boys entered, and Marly recognized the middle one at once: It was Draco Malfoy, the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Marly with a great deal of interest.

"Hello," he said. "They're saying all down the train that Marlene Potter's in this compartment—so I had to come and see, of course. Why are you sitting alone?"

"I'm not—Hermione just left to go and help Neville find his toad," said Marly. She was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of Draco, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said Draco carelessly, noticing where Marly was looking. "And as I said before—my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. Neville—not Neville Longbottom?"

"Yes," said Marly, wondering what was so funny when Draco sniggered.

"Neville the Squib, coming to Hogwarts! What is the world coming to. And who is Hermione? What's her surname?"

"Er—Granger, I think."

"Granger—that's not a name I recognize. Muggleborn, is she?"

"Yes."

He sneered. "I see. You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Marly's. She shook it briefly.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," she said coolly. "Why don't you judge Hermione on her own merits first, before you just spout off whatever your father says? You should study with us in the library—she's bound for Ravenclaw, with her brains."

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks. "Think I'm stupid, do you?"

"No," said Marly. "I just think that you could have better friends than—them. No offense," she added, to Crabbe and Goyle. "But you two look more like bodyguards than friends."

Draco frowned. "They've always been my friends. Their fathers are friends with my father, after all."

"I'm not interested in what your father thinks, Draco," she told him, "I'm interested in what you think."

"I see," Draco said slowly. "I'll have to think on that, Potter."

"My friends call me Marly," she told him. "Chocolate Frog?"

"No, thanks—we were just leaving."

"Oh, come on, just take one, I'm not going to finish all of these," said Marly, picking one up and offering it to him.

He took it with a long-suffering sigh, as if taking it was doing her a great favour, and then the three boys disappeared. A second later, Hermione returned.

"What has been going on, there were just three boys leaving this compartment, and one of them had a Chocolate Frog, was that yours?" she said.

"Yes, it was, I gave it to him. Did you find Neville's toad?" queried Marly.

"Yes, we went to the front and asked a prefect, two fifth-year prefects—Percy Weasley, of Gryffindor I think, and Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw—taught us to Summon him! Neville couldn't make it work, but I did. Penelope Clearwater said that I'm going to a brilliant witch!" She took a breath. "Then I went up to see the conductor—he says we're nearly there, we'd better put our robes on."

"All right," Marly said, and the two of them pulled out their trunks and exchanged their jackets for long black robes. Marly peered out the window. It was getting dark. She could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Marly's stomach lurched with nerves and Hermione, she saw, looked pale. She stuffed her book and the last of her sweets into her bookbag, left it on top of her trunk, and joined the crowd thronging the corridor, sticking close to Hermione.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Marly shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Marly heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Marly?"

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"C'mon, follow me—any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years, follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Marly thought there must be thick trees there. Neville sniffed once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Marly and Hermione were followed into their boat by Neville and a redhead who looked to be Fred and George's brother.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then—FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Hagrid checked the boats as people climbed out of them. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.