Chapter Seven: New Beginnings

The morning of September 1st dawned gray and damp. Which was to say, as far as some of the Burrow's occupants were concerned, it might as well hadn't dawned at all. There was a definite gloom hanging in the air, amplified by the violent downpour that had kept up through the night.

Hermione slapped her small alarm clock into silence and sat up in bed, rubbing her bleary eyes. She could hear Ron's snores drifting down from the attic, and one look out the window had her feeling characteristically lazy and she flopped onto her back once more. The sound of the rain lulled her senses and she relaxed further into the mattress, closing her eyes.

The disquiet from the night before had only grown after her talk with Mrs. Weasley and seemed to solidify in the pit of her stomach. The rain started coming down harder and faster and her thoughts started swirling, her chest constricted. Suddenly, her breath started coming faster. The rain wasn't so relaxing anymore. Her eyes shot open and she took several deep breaths, trying to get her swirling mind under control. She forced her eyes to focus on a small pink spot on the ceiling.

Eventually, she felt the knot in her chest loosen and shot an anxious look over at Ginny. Hermione sighed quietly in relief at the sight of her sleeping form. She carefully got up, gathered her clothes, and tiptoed her way to the bathroom to get ready. The bathroom door creaked closed behind her and she leaned against heavily, letting a few tears to leak out. It wasn't the first time she had felt that awful, suffocating feeling. According to her parents it occasionally happened when she was very young, and she could remember experiencing it once, just before starting Hogwarts, but nothing since.

She took a deep breath in an effort to dispel the lingering anxiety that was stirring in her chest. A frustrated sigh escaped her and she quickly shed her pajamas and slipped into her jeans and top, pulling her hair into a ponytail so she could splash cold water on her face.

—-

She shook Ginny awake, tugging at her arm insistently when she burrowed deeper under her covers.

"Oh, too late anyhow. I think I hear the twins getting up!" Hermione fibbed.

Ginny shot up in her bed and listened for a second before glaring and grumbling her way to her wardrobe. Hermione tried to hide her smirk but failed, a pair of jeans smacking her in the head for her troubles. It only served to make her laugh, aggravating Ginny further as she snatched the jeans back and stalked out of the room.

Hermione smiled and flopped onto the edge of the bed. She felt a hundred times lighter. The rain had slowed somewhat. She rested her head on the window sill and closed her eyes, letting the sound of the rain lull her mind into emptiness again.

"The trouble with you, my little bird, is that you think far too much sometimes," she heard her mum's voice say with a laugh, "Sometimes, you just need to look at it all and have a laugh at life, alright? Just have a laugh."

I suppose she was right.

"Are you okay?"

Ginny's voice startled Hermione from her perch on the bed a few minutes later. Her hair was still up in a messy ponytail, but she seemed to be awake and behaving more human-like now.

"Fine! Just a bit tired, that's all." Hermione smiled reassuringly at the younger woman.

"Are you sure?" Ginny looked quizzical as she plopped down next to Hermione and began pulling her shoes on. "You've been sort of quiet the last few days. Ever since the Cup."

Ginny finished tying the laces on her trainers and looked sharply over at her friend, "Missing a certain Hufflepuff, maybe?" she asked slyly, a definite smirk on her face.

Hermione froze and blinked owlishly at Ginny as her mind processed the carefree comment. A balloon of emotion swelled in her chest and suddenly found she couldn't contain the laughter bubbling up inside her. Of course Ginny would think that her mood was directly correlated to a boy. Ginny looked torn between confusion at her reaction and amusement of her own, making Hermione's laughter intensify and grab Ginny's arm in mirth. That was enough to break Ginny's resolve and she broke down in a fit of giggles as well.

"Come on," Hermione said, tugging at Ginny's arm and fighting giggles, "let's get breakfast before the boys wake up and devour everything in sight."

Ginny nodded through giggles, wiping tears from her eyes, and they began the onerous task of dragging their trunks down the Burrow's winding stairs.

They entered the kitchen with a thump! startling Mrs. Weasley as their trunks came to rest on the floor.

"Oh, girls! You should've let the boys get those for you later!" Mrs. Weasley fussed. "Breakfast's on the table. Better tuck in before the boys get down here."

They heard the bathroom door close upstairs, following by a barrage of knocking along with Percy's distinct voice bellowing. "I need to get for work! Mr. Crouch depends on—"

Hermione and Ginny exchanged amused looks at the squelching sound that followed while they helped themselves to some hot buttered toast and bacon.

A few minutes into breakfast, the fireplace behind Ginny sprung to life with a loud whoosh! causing her to knock the butter dish off the table with her elbow. Mrs. Weasley uttered an exasperated, 'Oh, Ginny!' waving her wand at the mess before leaning down in front of the fire to speak to Mr. Diggory's disembodied head.

Hermione had heard of using the Floo Network to communicate with other people, but she'd never actually witnessed it herself. She watched the bizarre interaction with interest - and a little bemusement. For all the amazing things magic could do, it surprised her how far behind they were as far as technological innovation went. A Muggle telephone was far more practical than getting down on your knees, surely.

"Morning, Amos!" Mrs. Weasley said cheerily. "Cedric all ready and excited for the new school year?"

"Hello, Molly! Yes, poor lad's been up since dawn. Molly, I'm sorry about this, but we've got an emergency of sorts at the Ministry and we need Arthur's help."

"Oh, dear! I'll get him," and with that, she sprung to her feet and climbed the staircase, calling for Arthur.

"Hello, Hermione," Mr. Diggory's head suddenly exclaimed. Hermione jumped at being addressed. Perhaps she had underestimated the utility of the Floo Network. How could he see me all the way over here?

"Morning, Mr. Diggory! How've you been? I hear things at the Ministry are a bit tense lately," Hermione said companionably.

"Oh, call me Amos, dear girl! Yes, the Ministry's in absolute shambles! We've all been working from sun up to sun down, and the Howlers! Scorch marks ev - what?" Mr. Diggory appeared to be talking to someone over his shoulder, "Oh, right," he said, "Hermione, dear, Cedric says hello and that he will save you all seats on the train and meet you on the platform, just in case you're late," Mr. Diggory repeated dutifully.

Hermione's smile was automatic upon hearing Cedric's name, "Tell him I'll see him then and thank him for me, would you?"

Mr. Weasley came clattering into the kitchen at that moment with his robes on backwards, the hood seemingly strangling him. He tripped slightly over the hem of his robes in his haste and skidded to a halt in front of the fireplace as Harry and the others began filtering into the kitchen.

"…we got lucky, Arthur," said Mr. Diggory. "I came into the office early to send a few of owls and drop Ced at the station, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot setting off — if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one…"

"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" asked Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Diggory groaned. "He says he heard an intruder in the yard. Claims he was creeping toward the house but was ambushed by his dustbins."

"And what did the dustbins do?" asked Mr. Weasley, unperturbed.

Hermione caught Harry's equally incredulous gaze and glanced over at Ginny to gauge her reaction to the strange conversation taking place only to find her happily munching on toast, unbothered. Ambushed by dustbins. Normal. Alright.

"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr. Diggory, exasperated. "More likely there's a shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in carrot and potato peelings."

"I don't doubt it. Alright, I'm off," Mr. Weasley said, and dashed out of the kitchen again.

"I'm sorry about this, Molly," Mr. Diggory said, more calmly, "today of all days...but Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today and Arthur's his only hope of getting off. Why he had to choose last night..."

"Oh, never mind, Amos," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Thanks for understanding, Molly. Have a good year you lot," and with a small pop, he vanished.

Mr. Weasley was back in the kitchen within five minutes, his robes on the right way this time, and called hurried good-byes to all of them.

"I'd better hurry. You all have a good term," said Mr. Weasley fastening his cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, will you be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"

"Of course," she said. "We'll be fine."

Mrs. Weasley, with Hermione's help, braved the telephone box in the village to order three Muggle taxis to take them into London.

And so they stood in the sludgy yard, watching the taxi drivers try to heave six heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars.

"Oh dear, they don't look very happy, do they?" Mrs. Weasley commented worriedly.

Hermione and Harry winced. Neither of them wanted to tell Mrs. Weasley that Muggle taxi drivers didn't usually transport owls, let alone overexcited ones, and Pig was making a racket. It also didn't help that one of the twins' trunks flew open, releasing one of their inventions that apparently shot off fireworks, causing the driver to shout out in fright and pain as he dropped one of the heavy trunks on his foot and simultaneously dove for cover. Mrs. Weasley could only glare murderously at the twins who were trying very hard to disappear behind Ron and Charlie.

The rest of the journey was equally uncomfortable. They were all jammed into the back of the taxis along with their trunks. It was with an extraordinary amount of sadness and guilt that Hermione felt relieved that Crookshanks was no longer around, if only because she was sure it was saving them from an inordinate amount of scratching at the moment. The second their stopped at King's Cross Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Charlie all made a mad scramble for the doors and spilled out of the taxi in relief. None of them could even bring themselves to mind that rain was coming down harder than ever and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the road.

The platform was more crowded than usual. They took advantage of the crowds and quickly ran through the barrier. Platform 9 3/4 materialized before Hermione's eyes the next instant and her senses were assaulted by the sound of a hundred talking and laughing voices. Dark clouds of steam from the train hovered over the platform, shrouding the students and parents on the platform in a specter-like appearance and she nearly rammed into the back of Ron who was trying to calm Pig who was screeching louder than ever in response to the hooting of other owls in the mist.

Hermione tried to maneuver her way around Ron and heard Ginny say something she couldn't make out over the din of noise coming from the other students.

"Wha- AHH!" Hermione shrieked in surprise as someone suddenly appeared at her side and a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist and lifted her off the ground. She caught a whiff of a familiar scent and her shout turned into laughter as she wrapped her arms around her assailant's neck. "Bloody hell, Cedric! You scared me!"

Cedric eventually set her down, but neither moved away, Hermione keeping her hands on his arms as he held her waist, "Just keeping you on your toes," he joked.

"I suppose I should just be grateful you didn't tackle me this time," Hermione said wryly.

"Don't think I didn't consider it," he teased.

Ginny cleared her throat rather loudly next to Hermione's ear and they both looked over at her, Cedric greeting her politely, "Come on, I'll help you two with your trunks."

Cedric led them to an empty compartment halfway along the train, Harry and Ron following behind, and stowed their luggage there. They hopped back onto the platform to say goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.

"Thank you for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione, giving her a hug.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but...well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with...one thing and another."

"What d'you know that we don't?" asked Ron suspiciously as they re-boarded the train.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you...Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"

Fred and George only waved goodbye from the train window, a less than innocent smile on both their faces.

Mrs. Weasley tried to look sternly at them but couldn't help but smile. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Cedric went back to their compartment while Ginny split off to find her friends. As soon as they entered the compartment, Ron opened his trunk, pulled out a set of robes, and flung them over Pig's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Wonder what mum was talking —"

"Shh!" Harry whispered suddenly, pressing a finger to his lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Hermione, Cedric, and Ron listened and heard a familiar voice drifting in through the open door.

"…I wonder what sorry excuse of a Defense professor Dumbledore's lined up this year. God, Hogwarts is a joke! I would have been better off at Durmstrang. You know how Father feels about Dumbledore and his approach to Defense and Mudbloods. Of course, Mother had to go and open her big mouth and start crying about my being so far away."

Hermione tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's sneering voice.

"Thinks Durmstrang would've suited him, eh?" Ron said angrily. "Wish he had gone. Have someone else deal with his poncy highness for a change."

"So, what? Durmstrang's another Wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yes," said Hermione, "it's got an interesting reputation. It supposedly puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"Yeah, I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"No one knows for sure," said Cedric.

"Er, why not?" said Harry.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between the magic schools in Europe, but then World War I happened and they all started accusing each other of espionage, so Durmstrang and Beauxbatons concealed their whereabouts and erased all memory of their location from outsiders' memories," said Hermione explained.

"Come off it," Ron laughed. "Durmstrang's got to be at least the size of Hogwarts, how are you going to hide a castle?"

Cedric and Hermione blinked in surprise, "Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, sounding scandalized at their lack of knowledge. "Everyone knows that."

"Go on then. How d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?" Ron challenged.

"It's bewitched," said Hermione. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a decrepit old ruin with a sign that says DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE STRUCTURE."

"So Durmstrang looks like a ruin to an outsider, too?"

"Maybe," said Cedric, shrugging, "or it could have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. Who knows? My bet's that Durmstrang's somewhere in the far north though," said Cedric postulated. "Somewhere cold since they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

Hermione hummed in agreement.

The rain became heavier and colder as the train journeyed farther north. The sky was so dark that the lanterns were lit by midday and the rain splattering on the windows made it near-impossible to see out. Several of their year-mates stopped in to talk to them as the afternoon progressed, all of them surprised to find Cedric with them, and all the boys giving Hermione rather long, lingering looks.

Hermione smiled briefly at Seamus as he settled in for a chat with Harry and Ron, turning back to the notebook settled between her and Cedric.

"I still say it won't change the outcome," she told Cedric.

Cedric sighed exasperatedly, "How can you say that so unequivocally? These are some of the most powerful numbers in the magic world. Using them like this would have to increase the likelihood of getting a clear result!"

"It wouldhaveto? C'mon, Ced, it's a good theory, it's guesswork at best, admit it!" Hermione challenged.

"Alright, you know what? First thing we do when we get to Hogwarts is test my theory! That's that!" Cedric said, sounding slightly hysterical.

Hermione couldn't contain her mirth, "Oh, that's that, eh? The great and mighty Cedric Diggory has spoken and so it shall be?"

Cedric's face cracked into a smile as he realized how ridiculous he must have sounded.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he has and it shall be," he replied, trying to sound haughty despite his laughter.

The two laughed softly and Hermione scribbled a couple of runes next to formula he had scribbled in the notebook. Cedric made a noise of protest but Hermione quickly shushed him.

"Just…keep an open mind," she chastised.

Hermione idly noticed that the conversation with Seamus had inevitably turned to the World Cup and tried to block out their enthusiastic play-by-play descriptions as they relived the game.

"Me mum packed us up as soon as she saw who was out there," Seamus relayed, his Irish accent thicker than usual in his agitated state. "So you saw it all up close, yeah? Did you…see anything in the woods, then?"

He looked at them all in turn, excitement and trepidation alight in his eyes.

"We didn't see any bodies if that's what you mean," Harry deadpanned.

"But the Prophet said—"

"Seamus," Hermione interrupted with an exasperated laugh, "you asked us what we saw and what we saw was a whole lot of flashing lights and a distinct lack of dead bodies."

Seamus nodded, obviously disappointed at not being able to confirm the rumors, "Fair enough, I suppose."

He went quiet, seemingly accepting the answer but then suddenly burst in an excited whisper, "D'you reckon there were any bodies, though?"

"It was just a cheap attempt by Rita Skeeter to scare up more readership for her stories if you ask me," Hermione said sardonically.

"Yeah, if someone had actually died we'd've heard who it was," Cedric chimed in, "The Prophet would've reported on it by now, don't you think?"

"Reckon you're right," Seamus said pensively. "I'll tell you what though. Mum's face when she saw those masks…I asked her about it after. Said she only heard stories 'bout how it was last time. She and her parents did a runner back to Ireland when You-Know-Who started trouble back then. She always thought they'd gotten lucky and she'd never have to experience that fear."

Usually, Seamus kept their conversations light and superficial. He was happy to get into a full-blown row about which pro Quidditch team was best, but anything more personal than that was nonexistent. He looked worriedly down at his hands, rubbing them together nervously.

Hermione couldn't bear the silence any longer.

"It was probably a one-off," she said quietly, trying to sound convincing. "And if it's not—"

"If it's not, then we'll face it when the time comes. Just like our parents did," Harry finished bracingly.

"Right. If the time comes," Seamus intoned softly. "I'd better get back. I'm supposed to be getting the lot of us something from the trolley."

They said their goodbyes as Seamus left and were rather subdued until Ron suggested a game of Exploding Snap to Harry. Hermione tuned out the sound of their game and began scribbling in a black leather-bound notebook she pulled out of her bag.

After a few minutes, Hermione looked up to find Cedric starting at her pen curiously.

"What?" she asked quizzically. "What is it?"

"What kind of quill is that? I've never seen anything like it," he said quizzically, clearly befuddled.

Hermione felt her eyebrows rise involuntarily in shock and realized both Harry and Ron must be so used to her constant scribbling they never paid much attention to what she was using.

"Er, well, it's a ballpoint pen. It's a Muggle version of a quill and ink." Seeing that he was still looking more than a little curious she expanded, "The ink is in the barrel, here. And it comes out of the tip when you start writing. Here, give it a try."

She handed him the black pen and watched as he turned it over, testing its weight between his fingers before putting the tip down on his own notebook. A look of surprised fascination overtook his features as he watched the ink run smoothly out of the pen's tip.

Hermione laughed quietly and pulled out a new pen from her bag.

"Here. You can have this one if you like." She handed him the new pen and watched his widen as he noticed that the ink was visible in the clear tube in this pen.

"Thanks," he looked suddenly thoughtful. "Why haven't I ever seen any other students at Hogwarts with these…what did you call them?"

"A pen. You probably haven't seen them because we're not allowed to use them in class or for essays."

"What? Why not?"

Hermione shrugged lightly, "I have my theories, but all I know is that when McGonagall gave me my letter she said things were done differently in the wizarding world than in the muggle world and that I would have to adapt. Part of that was that we aren't allowed to use certain items from the muggle world for classes."

Cedric was baffled, "Like what?"

"Pens, calculators, spiral notebooks," He quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, "—they're sort of like parchment, but it's thinner than parchment, like this," she showed him her notebook, "but it's bound using a metal coil."

"But that's ridiculous! What does it matter what you write in or with? It works just as well," he exclaimed, perplexed. "You said you had theories."

"Well—the Wizarding World is quite…proud of its heritage," she dropped her voice slightly to avoid being overheard by the others. "I think it's just another subtle way of asserting Wizards' belief in their superiority over Muggles."

It was something of a taboo subject given the Wizarding World's history with Grindelwald and Voldemort and thus, an unpopular opinion to hold in the magical community, one that she had never shared with anyone outside her parents. The thought of modernizing or changing the magical way of life to reflect that of Muggles was seen as tainting Wizard-kind. But the longer she lived in the magical world, the less she was willing to remain silent on the numerous prejudices that everyone else seemed satisfied to abide by. She'd often thought that of all her friends in the magical world Harry was the most likely to see the inequities and prejudices against Muggles and Muggleborns, but he was often too enraptured with the wonders of the magical world to really see any of its faults. Considering his abysmal upbringing though, she could never fault him for focusing on the good bits of life in their new world.

Cedric meanwhile seemed surprised at her broach of the subject, but nodded thoughtfully, lowering his voice to match hers, "The Wizarding World — we like to think we've changed as a society. Since Grindelwald and Voldemort. And we make a good show of it for the most part. But the truth is that even before any of them, witches and wizards have always thought of themselves as separate from Muggles. The Statute of Secrecy was enacted out of fear of Muggles, but it's only survived unchanged because of the belief in our superiority, and—"

"And it means people like me will never be entirely welcome in the wizarding world. We'll always be outsiders," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"No," Cedric protested and met her ironic glare with his own stern gaze, "Not if we keep pushing for change. D'you know the Americans have decided to allow wizards to reveal themselves to Muggles? Not at large, of course, but to friends. And it wasn't long ago that wizards in Britain couldn't even tell their spouses about magic. But all that's changed now. It just takes time."

"That's annoyingly rational and optimistic," Hermione grumbled.

"Heaven forbid!" Cedric said dramatically, throwing an arm around her shoulders and tugging her to his side slightly.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. She knew was being rather dismal about it, but it was in her nature to want immediate results.

She glanced across the compartment at the boys. They had apparently stopped playing their game and Ron was now admiring his tiny Krum figure as it walked up and down the length of his hand.

"Still can't believe how far up we were," Ron exclaimed wonderingly.

"I wouldn't get used to it if I were you, Weasley. You'll be right back in the dirt where you belong soon enough."

Malfoy stood at their doorway, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Cedric ground out through clenched teeth. He clearly hadn't forgotten their encounter in the woods the night of the Cup. Malfoy's cold eyes dashed between him and Hermione, taking in their close proximity, and his smirk turned into a sneer.

"So, going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name?"

"What're you on about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated.

"Either explain what you're talking about or get out, Malfoy," said Hermione testily from beside Cedric.

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's sickly pale face.

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got family in the Ministry, so does Diggory, and you don't even know? Father told me about it ages ago. Heard it from Cornelius Fudge himself. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry. Your father must be too junior to know about it, Weasley. Yes, they probably don't talk about anything important in front of him."

Snickering, Malfoy motioned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door behind them hard enough to shatter the glass.

"Oi!" Cedric exclaimed, brushing off bits of glass from his hair and trousers.

"Ron!" said Hermione hissed reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered 'Reparo' and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well, making it look like he knows everything and we don't," Ron snarled. "'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry.' Dad could've gotten a promotion any time, he just likes it where he is."

"We know that," said Hermione calmly. "Malfoy's just trying to get to you, Ron, don't let him. Just think of it this way: Bagman gave your dad those tickets because he likes and respects him. Lucius Malfoy practically had to bribe Fudge to have him as his guest. I almost feel sorry for Fudge, he must've felt like a hostage being stuck with all three of the Malfoys."

They smiled at her apt description.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. We may not have a lot of money, but dad's never had to pay anyone to like him," Ron said, sounding in much better humor and picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes.

Cedric was smiling at her with a mixture of amusement and something she didn't want to name, Hermione noticed with curiosity.

"What?" She asked quietly as the boys went back to reliving the Cup.

"Nothing. Just - that was very rational and optimistic of you." He said, failing to contain his amusement.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh as she shoved him lightly, "Oh, hush, you!"

Their good moods remained for the rest of the journey. They talked as they pulled on their school robes, and were still laughing at Ron's description of Archie and his floral dressing ground at the water pump when the Hogwarts Express finally began to slow to a stop in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. They left the train with heads bent and eyes narrowed against the angry downpour. The rain was now coming down so heavy and fast it was as though someone were throwing buckets of ice-cold water over their heads.

"I'd hate to be the First Years right about now, crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched carefully along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. She and Cedric huddled together, hanging onto each other for support on the slippery cobblestone road. The eerie line of black carriages seemed more ominous by the storming conditions as they stood waiting silently just outside the station gates. Hermione and Cedric reached the carriage first, Cedric tugging the door open while trying to keep his footing. They all clambered in gratefully and shut the door with a snap. Soon, with one big lurch, the long procession of carriages was bouncing treacherously up the lane toward Hogwarts.