Chapter 7 – H. J. Granger
Harry watched as Hermione Jean Granger, the girl he had thought long vanquished, sidled into the train compartment and carefully lowered herself into the bench opposite him. With sharp, barbed remembrance they both recalled and relived the sordid little war that they had fought for three long years across the length and breadth of Dragon School. Their weapons had been exam results; gold stars; certificates of excellence; column inches in the school paper; and the coveted space inside the Welcome to Dragon School display case, where the very best schoolwork was displayed to the families of prospective students and dignitaries. They had butted heads on the debate team, they had played at generals over the chess board, musical solos were weaponised, the sports fields were a battleground, and they had fought tooth and nail for each and every accolade they could deny the other.
In true climatic fashion it all came to a nail-biting conclusion one dreary April day in 1991 when the Beg and Baker Junior Science Fair had been held. The combat zone was the hallowed halls of Trinity College where forty-eight students from twenty-four local schools were invited to crown a single glorious champion. The weapon of choice was science projects, and everyone in Dragon School wanted to represent the school (and those who didn't want to, were forced). For weeks the school had been buzzing with the prospect of the fair and after several little school contests the teaching staff had picked two final representatives, himself and his arch nemesis. Harry and his foster parents had been invited to the event and he was full of pride and joy at the prospect and so were Richard and Liza. He was welcomed in and soon enough he was situated under Dragon School's banner in a quiet corner of a vast ancient hall. His magnificent globe, full of little motors and gears that powered tiny papier-mâché tectonic plates across its surface and caused tiny mountains to rise and fall sat on one table. Beside it on another table was Hermione's lava seeping volcano that could be pulled apart to expose various labels and informative titbits about a volcano's inner workings.
None of the other contestants really mattered to the pair, and Harry couldn't honestly remember another display that had been present that day. He'd spent the entire time glowering at his foe across their staging area and she had done the same with equal fervour. Seeing as the pair seldom spoke to each other on the best of days, unless it was to exchange barbs, that particular day had been spent in silent fury. Their respective parents had soon got bored of standing around and watching them try to hate each other to death, and fluttered away to see what other displays were on offer to amuse them. As the day wore on a panel of judges ranging from university dons to local celebrities had begun to prowl the floor and ask questions of the children. They slowly but surely started to whittle away the losers and discount the half-arsed attempts. Half the field was eliminated by dinner time and an hour later the field was down to ten of the best. The judges, all wearing little golden sashes to denote their importance, did the rounds again after that. They poked and prodded the displays to find weaknesses in manufacture and probed their creators for weakness in understanding. This halved the final ten to five in no time, as children stumbled over questions or displayed a lack of clear understanding. Harry and his enemy didn't, they were keyed up and eager to impress, and judging by the appreciative looks and muttered comments Harry had overheard it seemed that Dragon School was in for first and second place. He was quite happy to let the judges chose the rightful victor, and he was quite confident it would be him, so he saw no need to cheat...unlike H. J. Granger.
She sunk to new and reprehensible levels that day to lay him low with a sneaky shot aimed right below the belt. Taking his eyes off the staging area to enjoy some of the finger foods laid out on a nearby table he heard the unmistakeable tearing noise of papier-mâché behind him. He turned sharply and found her knuckle deep in India. Seeing herself caught in the act she began desperately trying to yank herself free, but his valiant piece of work was holding fast to the guilty digit. Harry, seeing the foul plan for what it was, made to swoop in and confront her. He intended to not only demand answers but to expose her for the cheat that she was. She gave a mighty tug and was free before he could reach her, however, and she ran away to her own display where she hid behind a stubby little woman sniffing the vivid orange lava of the little volcano and wearing a golden judge's sash. Harry drew up quickly, if he had stormed between them complaining about her actions without proof the judge might have thought him tattling, or worse sabotaging his own effort to discredit his opponent. No, he wouldn't do that he wouldn't let her actions ruin him, all he could do was glower at the girl and silently promise payback.
In the end it didn't matter. Harry had been victorious and was very smug about it too. Her ruthless sabotage had come too late and did too little. All the judges had seen his work in action and had already been thoroughly impressed by it. The stubby woman at the end of the day had been the main fence-sitter and her final inspection of Hermione's piece had settled the competition and settled him into first place. That evening he was as happy as could be as he held a little golden cup and a W. H. Smith's voucher worth £100 before the photographers of the local paper. She was left with a tiny, insignificant silver cup, a £50 voucher, and tears in her eyes as she was relegated to some dark corner to be commiserated by her parents. It had been a very proud day for him, and Liza had taken the cut out newspaper clippings with her all the way across the globe, and no doubt she still pulled them out for all and sundry to read at the drop of a hat.
As for Hermione, she had left Dragon School shortly after that incident never to be seen again. Harry had always assumed it was because she was ashamed of her spiteful behaviour, or more like, she was ashamed of losing to him despite of it. It was a shame really, and it really pushed home the old adage of not knowing what you've got till it's gone. Yes, the girl was a bothersome know-it-all who tattled on people; but the war, well, he had quite enjoyed the war. He'd stare in the mirror as he brushed his teeth in the morning and contemplate his enemy's thinking patterns, then afterwards whilst in the shower he'd deduce her possible upcoming plans, and afterwards as he was getting dressed he'd figure out ways of buggering them up. When she tucked her tail between her legs and slunk away in defeat she took all that exhilaration and stimulation with her. All he had left was schoolwork that was too easy and his lingering commitments to various school clubs that he felt were now superfluous. Shame really.
He had made enquiries with some of the teachers when she didn't show up the following year, but they had all shrugged and said she'd been moved to a new school. Pressing further with his questions seemed to just hit a brick wall, and he came to the conclusion her family hadn't informed anyone of their plans and just withdrew her in shame. Speaking of her parents, he did broach the issue with her mother when he went for his dental check up. Dr Emily Granger, who was always so nice and charming that Harry had often thought it impossible that she could have birthed such a monster as her daughter, was very cagey on the subject. All she would say on the matter was Hermione had decided to move to a special boarding school in Scotland and that was it. She wouldn't even give the name of the school and made some excuse about them not accepting personal mail, which was strange. Now however, as he sat watching her with the same intensity one cat might watch another, it all fell into place and just how special the school was seemed apparent.
She hadn't changed much in the last fifteen-months or so, he noticed. She had the same frizzy brown hair, the same oversized teeth, and he had already heard that her voice had lost none of that sharp brittle edge. She was coming into her teens now, though, so she was filling out in certain areas, getting taller and leaner, and her soft features were sharpening. She was still his Hermione though, still his most devious opponent.
"What are you doing here?" She broke the terse silence in her usual snobbish way, her voice laced with accusations.
"Err," Harry looked around the train as if he was surprised by his current surroundings, "sitting and enjoying the view," he smiled cockily. They'd spent three gruelling years at each other's throat with just intermittent barbs being exchanged. Just because they were older and there was a new school on the horizon, he saw no reason to thaw hostilities and change that.
His reward for that candid remark was Hermione's eyes narrowing to slits, her lips pursing in anger, and a harrumph to escape the dark reassesses of her soul. She made a point of deliberately and slowly folding her arms, and then she leaned back in her seat with a creak of leather to show him she wasn't going anywhere. Harry did the same, and that was how they remained for quite some time, both locked in a standoff with neither one trusting the other. It was just like old times, and the only one who didn't seem effected by the escalation of hostilities was Luna. The girl remained silent and unblinking in her seat and the only noise she made was when she turned her copy of the Quibbler upside and made an annoyed tutting noise as if scandalised by it's contents.
It was only the shhhunt clunk of the cabin's sliding door being pulled open that made Harry wrench his eyes away from his opponent, and only then it was after she had done so first. Three red heads, two boys and a girl, rushed in all panicked and slightly frazzled.
"Hermione, they are definitely not on the train," One of the redheaded boy announced loudly as he stormed into the compartment. He stood between him and Hermione and formed a rather effective barricade.
"We have checked every carriage, every compartment, every bathroom, we even checked the head compartment, and the with driver...his name's Dave by the way, and he seems awfully proud of that," the twin brother of the first redhead declared. They were stocky teenage youths wearing black robes that had faded to grey, and whilst one set of robes rode up high to display mismatched socks the other set of robes pooled around on the floor due to being several inches to long.
"Not a sign of them, and no one has seen them either," the first twin went on without missing a beat.
"Then where did they go?" this came from the red headed girl, no doubt the little sister to the twins. She looked to be his age and was tiny, pale, lithe, and wearing robes that were once again not in the best shape. Harry, after months in Bolton and Albright, knew that they were second hand and he could see the very careful patches sewn onto them and saw the neat stitches around the hem. "Hi Luna!" she exclaimed excitedly and rushing over she squeezed herself into the space between Hermione and Luna. Harry saw, hidden under the girl's arm, a bright book with the picture of a brown haired boy on the front and a little padlock and clasp securing it. Harry was immediately reminded of those teeny boy bands who market their face onto every piece of tawdry tat that would accept it. Inevitably they ended up on the front cover of a girlie diary with a plastic padlock to lock it, and this it seemed was one of those diaries.
"Hello Ginny. Have you been keeping tabs on the ley lines?" Luna asked as she lowered her magazine and swivelled her head around.
"Whatever. Listen Luna, something gone terribly wrong," the girl now identified as Ginny said. "Neville isn't on the train. He might be lost or-or stolen or something."
"Nor is your brother," Hermione reminded her with a disbelieving sigh and a shake of her head.
"Have you seen him?" Ginny asked nervously, completely brushing aside Hermione's words.
"Many, many times," Luna said, "I met him in Hogsmeade a few times."
"No, I meant have—forget it," Ginny gave a dismissive flick of her hand and turned her attention to the twins. "Surely he got on the train, right? He was right behind us, he could hardly get lost on the run up to the wall...could he?"
"Neville, probably not," Twin A said.
"Ron, on the other hand," Twin B said, and both twins gave an uncertain shrug and pull of the face to show their confidence in the matter.
Luna spoke, "I find in situations involving missing people we must consider the case of Stanley Grapes. He vanished into thin air from his bedroom one night in New York and six months later only his head was found on the doorstep of a pet shop." Terrified silence reigned supreme for a long moment, and the only sound was a gentle whimper of horror from Ginny. "The muggles said it was murder, but we all know better, don't we," Luna finished and she cast a knowing look around the assembled that seemed to invite them all into the conspiracy.
"Do we?" Twin B whispered nervously. He turned to his twin brother to see if he could shed any light on the subject.
"The lesser redcap hobgoblin. It all makes sense when you stop and think about it logically," she said in a manner that sort of implied that it all did somehow make sense, which it clearly didn't.
"That's not funny, Luna," Ginny bit out with a hiccup in her voice, "You shouldn't joke about Neville being k-killed, it's not nice. Especially after what happened to him and his family. He has powerful enemies you know." She drew the diary out from under her arm and holding it like a mirror stared at it thoughtfully.
"I hardly think Neville and Ron were the victims of a gruesome serial killer," Harry's arch-nemesis threw in with her usual know-it-all tone of voice. When they had both attended Dragon School it was undoubtedly that voice coupled with the way she never could stop condescending to people that drew the bullies to her. After all, he was just as smart and just as uptight as she, but the furthest his bullying went from some horrible words and a few stolen pens. She use to have her pencil case flushed down the toilet and her coat thrown on the roof almost weekly. "If anything they...I don't know...missed the train or something. That's it!" she snapped her fingers. "They were messing around on the platform and watched the train pull away without them. You know what those pair are like."
"I think you might be on to something, Herms," Twin A said. Harry watched as 'a look' was exchanged between the twins in a bid to emphasise the false optimism and silently form an agreement to carry on the facade for the sake of their baby sister's sanity.
"Don't call me Herms!" Hermione snapped out angrily. "It's an awful name. Erk, it sounds like a piece of rubber medical equipment," she shuddered visibly. "And whilst we're on the subject, don't call my Hermy either."
"Do you remember our second year, brother dearest?" Twin B said to Twin A, ignoring Hermione in the process.
"Running after the train, soaking wet, with toilet tissue streaming out behind us," Twin A nodded his understanding.
"Yes, the old Hoggy Express leaves shockingly quick and without adequate warning," Twin B admitted to the assembled.
"Far too fast for Ronny-Two-Dinners to catch it," Twin A added.
"Exactly," Hermione said firmly and turning to the ginger girl smiled. "See, they just missed the train, that's all. I bet they went back through the barrier, spoke to your parents, and then got taken to Hogsmeade post haste. They're no doubt at school right now safe and secure."
"I hope they don't start the feast early," Twin B groaned morosely.
"It'll be all gone by the time we get there if Ron's let loose on it," Twin A finished.
"I highly doubt they will lay out a feast for a thousand people just to feed two second year boys," Hermione said. Harry watched as she blew out a breath that washed up her face and sent a coil of bushy brown hair skyward. It was strange, after years of studying her, of watching her, of planning and plotting against her Harry could read her like a book. She was annoyed with the twins antics, and this was undoubtedly exasperated by the fact that she was also far less than sure about the solution that had been concocted between them to explain their friends' disappearance.
"So, now that we've solved the case of the missing Boy-Who-Lived shall we tackle the next big mystery?" Twin A said and he clapped his hands together gleefully.
"What mystery?" Ginny asked, her red eyebrows knotting in frustration. It was apparent that she wasn't happy with the topic of conversation shifting away from Neville and his disappearance.
"Who on earth is the Boy-Who-Loves-Hermione," Twin B said. Both Twins turned as one to face Harry and smirked at him a very sinister little smirk.
"He/She is not my boyfriend/girlfriend," Harry and Hermione said in perfect unison. Hearing her steal his words made him glower and scowl at her and she, being of the same opinion, did the same in return.
"Hello little feller," Twin A said cheerfully as he leaned down, hands resting on his thighs, and threw a huge smile at Harry.
"What's your name, then?" Twin B did the same only he added a cheeky ruffle of Harry's short stubble hair for good measure.
"Harry Potter, and he's still not my boyfriend," Hermione answered for him.
"Ah, I see the problem," Twin B said before both boys dropped themselves down either side of Harry, threw their arms over his shoulders, and stretched their legs out before them.
Twin A sucked in air through his teeth, like a mechanic who had just invented a rather large and expensive problem for a middle aged woman's car. "It appears, my little friend, that you have gotten yourself quite a conunerunderum."
"Your lady love is not reciprocating your feelings," Twin B sympathised.
"Happens to the best of us," Twin A added.
"Except us of course," Twin B threw in seriously.
"And that is where you're in luck, because you, my little friend, have just met the solution to all that ails you," Twin A said.
"My name is Fred Weasley, this is my brother George, we are Fred and George Weasley," Fred Weasley finished smoothly. Both of them stuck hands out to be shook and Harry automatically made to shake them.
"Ark...ark!" Bertram's cawing acted as a warning siren. All eyes turned to look at the raven who was perched on the curtain rail. He shook his head before cawing and bouncing up and down the rail in excitement. Harry gingerly drew his hands back, if Bertram was issuing a warning it had to be bad news.
"Whose bird is that?" Hermione demanded as she stared up at Bertram with a scowl knitting her brow. She knew the answer, she was just trying to be difficult as usual.
"He's mine," Harry said firmly, and then cursed his own foolishness. He'd just admitted to owning Bertram in front of witnesses. If there was anything going to get him into trouble at school, it would be Bertram.
"You're not supposed to have a raven," Hermione said and turned back to stare at him with no hidden amount of glee. "Didn't you read your letter? Only owls, cats, and toads are allowed as pets. I'm sure you'll get into frightful trouble."
"I did read it," Harry said as he kept his eyes on Bertram, "and at the time of my induction tour I raised the issue with the headmaster himself. He informed me that the rules on pets was rather sketchy and very hard to enforce, and so students had owned rats, mice, spiders, an otter, a penguin, and," he turned his head and looked at Hermione pointedly, "on occasion they even admit dogs."
"Oh how I have missed that legendary wit of yours," Hermione grabbed her sides and heaved the usual fake laugh, "please excuse me whilst my sides split with mirth. Hah-hah-hah."
"I'm getting the feeling that you pair know each other," Ginny said suddenly suspicious of them.
"We had the unfortunate privilege of attending the same muggle school," Hermione admitted. "I have to admit I hoped to never share Hogwarts with anyone from my old school, and that sentiment went doubly for him of all people."
"Aww, young love," Fred and George let out soft sappy sighs.
"IT IS NOT LOVE! SO SHUT UP ABOUT IT!" Hermione actually roared like a rather hairy lioness across the compartment at them. Her face went an angry red and her eyes bugged out slightly. Harry knew that meant she was a tad annoyed. She'd looked like that when his technical drawing of a Stationary Steam Engine replaced her painting of the Eiffel Tower in the Welcome to Dragon School display case. She'd moped and moaned about it for weeks and had the gall to actually complain to the Headmistress in a bid to get it removed.
"I think we touched a nerve," Fred whispered over Harry's head to his brother on his other side.
"Oh well, Little Harrykins. Plenty more fish in the sea, hey," George said with a reassuring pat on the arm to comfort him.
"We'll introduce you to Katie Bell. An older woman. Just what every growing boy needs," Fred added with a salacious wink.
"Looks a little like Hermione, only she's not half so scary," George finished and gave him a condescending pat on the head, as if he was an accomplished dog. This simple act caused Bertram to caw and swoop down. He land smartly on Harry's head, his spindly feet were sharp and dug into his scalp. "What are you looking at?" George said, only it wasn't to Harry this time.
"You, big nose...nose," Bertram said from above him.
"Hell's bells, it talks!" Fred cried out in alarm. Harry felt Bertram peck or do so something like it on his head before a small floppy thing came flying from above him and landed with a flap on the floor of the compartment. Everyone looked down at what appeared to be a humorous rubber interpretation of bird droppings.
"What, it was just a joke!" George defended himself to the bird.
Bertram, not impressed, spread his midnight wings and gliding across the carriage he landed on Hermione's shoulder. "I'm watching you...you," he warned as his beady black eyes flicked from one twin to the other accusingly. They both stiffened and stared back in horror, their jaws unhinged. Bertram, his threat delivered and thoroughly received, rubbed his head against Hermione's cheek affectionately.
"Hello cutie," Hermione said happily and scratched at his black breast feathers. Harry felt a roiling sea of jealousy and anger froth up inside him. Bertram was his bloody raven, he wasn't meant to be mauled by the enemy. Once he'd received some attention, Bertram ducked under the fall of Hermione's bushy hair and emerged on her other shoulder where he perched quite contently.
"Neville will be fine, won't he," Ginny asked. She drew the padlocked book before her as if it was a shield and wrapped her arms around it. Harry got his first good look at the boy on the front for the first time. He'd seen that face when he'd visited Diagon Alley, if it wasn't splashed across an advert trying to sell him a broomstick it was doing amicable service being the rather uncomfortable looking front of Holdalot Luggage Company. You couldn't move ten paces without finding some form of it staring out of an advertisement. He'd seen the boy in the flesh at a distance too. He was being photographed with Gilderoy Lockhart, but the situation with the crowd had rendered him unable to appreciate the experience to its fullest. Harry wondered what he was famous for, he didn't look like a boy-band singer or a heartthrob actor that was to be sure. He got his answer when Ginny whispered sulkily, "I mean, he is Neville Longbottom, and if he can defeat You-Know-Who then he can defeat anyone, right, and he'll be safe?"
"He defeated who?" Harry said on reflex. He'd heard the term you-know-who and he-who-must-not-be-named whispered a couple of times in Diagon Alley. He had a very good idea of who-you-were-supposed-to-know was, but he couldn't quite reconcile that boy and his death. Besides, didn't the headmaster say he died in'81 or something of that nature. That boy looks barely older than he did.
"Neville, that strapping young chap there," George pointed to the picture on the front of the diary, "killed a very powerful wizard when he was a wee baby," he explained.
"You mean Voldemort," Harry said to ensure they were on the same page.
"Eeuk!" Fred and George winced and as one both twins withdrew their arms from Harry's shoulder and leapt away as if he had just become a plague carrier.
"Don't say that name, but yes, you-know-who we mean, okay," Fred went on, his voice a hiss, and the hyphens seemed to drop into place with a clang. "I take it you've heard the tale, then?"
"No, just heard a little about the wizard and the war he orchestrated," Harry explained, not going into details. "I was never informed of the nature of his demise."
"Well," Ginny said and leaning forward she clasped her diary to her chest and drew in a large breath. This, it seemed, was a story she enjoyed telling. "On Halloween night 1981 You-Know-Who sneaked into the Longbottom house. After murdering his poor parents You-Know-Who crept upstairs to kill Neville as lay asleep in his crib. He raised his wand and cast a foul murderous spell, but it bounced off Neville as if he was a mirror and it killed You-Know-Who stone dead. Neville was left with this scar, look," Ginny proudly held up the glossy diary for him to inspect a thin red lightning bolt scar on the boy's forehead. Harry also noted that the words Neville's Longbottom's Official Diary 1991-1992 was written in gold across the top. So that was the boy he had to thank for killing the bastard who killed his parents, Harry thought as he took in the boy's pale face. He never seemed happy in any of his photos, more put out and on the verge of wetting himself. "So you can see why we're concerned about him going missing," Ginny finished sadly.
"He'll be fine, Gin-gin," Fred reassured her.
"Trust us," George finished.
"Trust you pair?" Ginny snorted and went back to cuddling her book. She raked her fingers through her red hair to push a lock of the stuff out of her face. "So Harry, what house do you think you'll be in?" She said to no doubt change the subject.
"Erm...I don't know," Harry said as he once again found himself adrift in a conversation where his islands of understanding had floated away over the horizon. He was well aware of what school houses were, but how they related to Hogwarts was a complete mystery. "What are my choices?"
"There's four houses. There's Hufflepuff for the loyal."
"You say loyal, we say duffers," Fred put in quickly.
"Then there's Ravenclaw for the intelligent," Ginny carried on.
"You say intelligent, we say snooty," George put in quickly.
"Then there's Slytherin for the gits," Ginny carried on.
"You say gits, we say gits," Fred put in quickly.
"Then there's Gryffindor for the best," Ginny said with a giggle.
This got a rousing cheer from the twins who threw their arms up in victory and offered no quick jibe. Harry took this to mean that they were Gryffindors, and Ginny was undoubtedly aiming for the same. He couldn't help turning his eyes towards Hermione and wondering silently what house she was in.
"Gryffindor," she answered without his prompting when she saw him looking at her.
So it's Ravenclaw for me, Harry thought immediately. "My mother was in Ravenclaw, and I hold some hope to be the same," Luna said as she lowered her magazine and looked over Harry's shoulder. Harry foresaw a horrid future where his every waking moment was staring into those big blue orbs that never blinked and somehow never looked back. He swallowed the lump in this throat as the full horror played out before him. Okay, so it looked like his choices were Hufflepuff or Slytherin.
"Luna is it?" Hermione questioned the girl in that usual patronising way. "You really must get changed into your school robes. We'll be arriving any minute."
Luna turned her head slowly to the side to see her and Hermione, getting a taste of the girl's unnatural stare, startled backwards down the bench. "My school robes are in my school trunk," Luna explained
"I'm sure Fred and George will be more than happy to help you...get...it—where is your school trunk?" Hermione stuttered to a stop as she looked up into the little stowage areas above the benches for a second trunk and failed to find it.
"At school," Luna answered simply and as she did the momentum of the train changed and the brakes gave a little screech as they were applied.
"Too late to do anything about it now," Ginny said as she looked out of the window as the whizzing scenery began to slow down.
"First years, leave your trunks on the train and they'll be sent up to your new dorm rooms for you," a voice that seemed to be all snot and nose said as its owner moved up the corridor outside the door. "I repeat. First years, leave your trunks on the train and they'll be sent up to your new dorm rooms for you."
"I say dear brother. That sounds like Percy the Perfect Prefect," Fred declared in what he no doubt considered a posh voice.
"Indubitably, and I do declare he is being a right ol' snooty sod to the local populace as usual," George put in with equal aristocratic articulation. They pounced to their feet as one and seemed to devise a plan with a glance. In two large strides they reached the door and waiting behind it shared a little giggle.
"First years, leave your—" the voice declaring the announcement grew louder until it was right outside the door.
The twins threw the door open, "PERCY!" they bellowed together. Another red headed boy, who had been steaming down the corridor with his chest puffed out and his nose sniffing the ceiling, leapt back with a squeal and slammed into the far wall. He slid down to the floor, his hand clutching his racing heart.
"Nice to see your little badge is still all shiny and correct," George declared as he stepped outside and helped the boy up.
"And nice to see you all shiny and correct too," Fred said. The pair looped their arms over the boy's shoulder in much the same way they had Harry earlier and guided him away down the corridor. "Is that new pomade in your hair? Smells awfully jolly."
"Or has Penelope given you something to make your coat nice and shiny," George said and concluded this statement with a playful growl and saucy meow.
"You pair are so very disgusting," the boy drawled, "and I wish you wouldn't talk about Penelope in such a vulgar manner."
"Wow, he reminds me of someone," Harry said as the trio of bickering voices faded into the crowd. He turned to face Hermione, who, already knowing what he was about to say, was getting her disgruntled scowl in early. "Oh Miss Jones, Carlton and Jake are being intolerably rude in the playground and they've been using swear words," Harry said in a falsetto.
"Shut up," Hermione snapped. The four in the cabin stood up as the train finally clunked to a full stop and outside eager students started to move in droves to disembark. Harry repressed the urge to dust his robes down and pick off any stray bits of fluff when he saw Hermione had beat him to doing it. He'd be damned if he copied her. Bertram for his part glided across from Hermione and landed on Harry's shoulder. "Ginny, I hope to see you Gryffindor; Luna, best of luck getting into Ravenclaw; and you," she pointed at Harry, "I hope you fall in the lake and get eaten by the giant squid. Goodbye." She flicked her hair over her shoulder haughtily and stepping outside was swept way in the tide of students all vying to leave the train.
Harry, to finally escape Luna's eyes, made a bold escape by stepping into the shove with no concern for his own safety. He was jostled and pushed on all sides and at least one elbow found his kidney with surgical precision, and like a rather uncoordinated fish caught in a rushing current he was propelled downstream and in a roundabout way arrived at his destination. He popped through the doors of the train and stumbled out onto a platform where the sudden cold weather caught him by surprise.
"Firs' years t' me!" A deep booming voice called out. Harry didn't need to look long before he found the owner. A true giant of a man wearing what appeared to be a hairy pelt for a coat was stood, towering over everything he surveyed (including the train), and waving a lantern in his hand. He had a black thicket for a beard and shaggy black hair that fell to his shoulders in an untidy mess. "Firs' years, come t' me!" He yelled again and waved his lantern, as if he didn't get enough attention already.
His efforts had already earned him quite a crop of tiny people, they gathered around his knees and more and more were coming with every passing moment. Harry, deciding he fell neatly into the gigantic man's criteria, added his own persons to the gathering.
"Do we 'ave eve'yone?" the man asked and lifting a massive shovel like hand began to count heads whilst his black thicket beard chomped away to the movement of his silently counting lips. "Good, yer all 'ere," he declared and clapping his hands together like a crash of thunder he rubbed them together very proud of his achievement. "Now folla me, please."
Harry and his new school friends did as they were bid, and due to the man's ginourmous strides they had to run to keep up as he loped along at a lazy pace. Thankfully it wasn't a long run, but it was sufficiently distant to make most of his peers wheeze and sweat, one actually doubled over with a stitch. Their destination was a large lake with an eerie calm surface that acted as a mirror to darkening sky up above. Along the muddy bank lay a host of little white row boats that clunked and knocked together in the water.
"No mor' than four t' a boat. Come on no', let's 'urry things up," he bellowed and stepping his huge size 40 boot into one boat sat down and proceeded to fill it to capacity and then some.
Harry felt Bertram's feet clench and watched as he hunkered down and shifted his weight. Harry tried his best to stop him, but he was too late. The black feathered monster spread his wings and was a shadow in the sky in a snap. He glided across to the captain of this endeavour and landed on his head.
"Onward...onwards!" Bertram demanded and poked his beak out in the general direction the boat was set to head.
"Why 'ello dere. Ain't you 'andsome," the big man said, and his beetle black eyes sparked with joy. Using a finger as big a baguette he gave the bird a gentle stroke. "Four t' a boat!" he declared, "and y' pair at t' back stop yer messin' aroun'," he demanded of two boys who were trying to wrestle each other into the water. Being told to stop messing around by a 11 foot tall man with a shaggy black beard did wonders for their behaviour. They both neatly leapt into a nearby boat where two guffawing boys were already sat and the four immediately started to mess around in the boat.
Harry stepped into a boat that was still unoccupied and settled down on the elevated plank that served as a seat. Before long a boy with floppy blond curly hair sat beside him and then to make matters worse Luna's blue eyes got in followed by Ginny and her book. Harry, suddenly pinned to the back of the boat by the unblinking blue stare, had no choice but to stay as the boat rocked and shuddered into magical motion.
"Wow, that's Neville Longbottom, isn't it!" The boy at Harry's side declared excitedly and a pale hand was raised so he could point a thin finger at the diary Ginny was still clasping in her arms as if it held the secret to eternal life.
"Yeah, it's an official product I bought direct from his fan club," Ginny said proudly and turning the book around she stared at the gurning visage on the front.
"Does he really attend Hogwarts? I was speaking to some boy called Martin...or was it Marty...anyway, he said he was a second year Gryffindor. I sure hope I'm in Gryffindor so I can meet him. Colin Creevey by the way, pleasure to meet you all," the boy called Colin said in one long expulsion. Harry thought it amazing that such a small boy could hold so many words.
"He certainly is," Ginny said.
"If he returns with his body," Luna put in nonchalantly.
Ginny shot the blonde an angry look before gritting her teeth and turning back to Colin, "Neville's best friend is my brother Ron, Ronald Weasley."
"He's got to return to school with more than his severed head as well," Luna said. Ginny swivelled her own unsevered around to give the girl another frosty glower, but Luna remained fixated on the space above Harry's left shoulder. She gave a little sigh, "I do hope Ronald does return with both his head and his body, I find both rather fetching."
"Eugh," Ginny winkled her nose at the thought.
"IT'S THE SQUID!" one of the rowdy boys cried loudly from their own boat. They all rushed to one side of the vessel and nearly upset the boat. They proceeded to splash and swipe at the water's smooth surface with their hands. They cheered encouragingly as one of them took the initiative and actually sat on the boat's edge and kicked their feet into the water. Harry leaned over the side of the boat and saw a liquid black shadow swirl just under the water's calm surface. As he watched a smooth black hump broke the surface and then some distance away a tentacle as thick as a man's leg did the same, it flicked up and with amazing accuracy it knocked the splashing boy back into the boat with an oomph. "IT KICKED ME IN THE FACE!" The boy screamed excitedly. He stood up in the boat and threw his arms up victoriously and turned around so spectators could get a full appreciation of his glory.
"IT'S HOGWARTS, IT'S HOGWARTS EVERYONE! HOGWARTS!" One of his loud friends declared with a point and a bounce in his seat.
The four boys in the boat dove across to the other side of the vessel and set it rocking violently in a bid to get themselves a few inches closer to the castle that hove into view on the far side of the lake. It was quite a sight to behold, a magnificent and grand castle with a dozen tall towers and hundreds of little sparkling lights. Colin summed up the sight best with a gawping, "bloody hell," that fell from his lips and seemed to land in his lap in a puddle of incredulity.
"Onward...onward," Bertram cawed loudly from the head of the giant in the boat who led the fleet. Then he started to caw Ride of the Valkyries again as he bobbed his head. Onward they went until the boats clunked and ran to a stop on the shore nearest the castle. Bertram, seeing his time as an admiral was at end, took wing once more and his black sleek form disappeared into the encroaching darkness. This was not good, Harry thought. If there was one thing he wanted to keep an eye on right about now it was Bertram, and the fact he had just vanished into the darkness pleased Harry not.
"Gather 'round, gather 'round," the huge man demanded as he planted his mighty boots in the mud and called them in with a sweeping motion of his great hands. All the knee high students gathered around and the man did another quick head count before nodding his head. Spinning on his toes he set off towards the castle with a cry of, "folla me!" thrown loudly over his shoulder. Everyone took off after him at a dead run and the castle as a consequence grew larger and more imposing on the horizon with each passing second. In record time they were all screeching to a stop before a colossal pair of studded double doors with a great knocker and massive brass handle. The giant, who hadn't just completed a 200 meter dash, calmly lifted the knocker and gave three resounding whacks.
