A/N: I'm going to make this clear. I don't own the Harry Potter series or it's characters. That right goes to JK Rowling

If you haven't yet, read before this story:

The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Sorcerer's Stone
The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Chamber of Secrets
The Son and Nephew of the Maurders: The Prisoner of Azkaban

Also if you haven't please take part on voting for which story you want me to update next month

Aboard the Hogwarts Express

There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when Harry awoke next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as he got dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt; they would change into their school robes on the Hogwarts Express.

He, Ron, Fred, and George had just reached the first-floor landing on their way down to breakfast, when Mrs. Weasley appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.

"Arthur!" she called up the staircase. "Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!"

Harry flatten himself against the wall as Mr. Weasley came clattering past with robes on back-to-front and hurtled out of sight. When Harry and the others entered the kitchen, they saw Mrs. Weasley rummaging anxiously in the drawers—"I've got a quill here somewhere!"—and Mr. Weasley bending over the fire, talking too Amos's head which was sitting in the middle of the flames like a large bearded egg.

Harry realized that Amos Diggory must be just using floo powder to just his head so only his head appear in the fire place. Amos was talking very fast, completely unperturbed by the sparks flying around it and the flames licking its ears.

"…Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems—please-men."

"Police men," Harry replied. "They're muggle version of Aurors."

"Right, thank you Harry. Arthur, you've got to get over there—"

"Here!" said Mrs. Weasley breathlessly, pushing a piece of parchment a bottle of ink, and a crumpled quill into Mr. Weasley's hands.

"—it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it," said Mr. Diggory's head. "I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off—if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur—"

"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" asked Mr. Weasley, unscrewing the ink bottle, loading up his quill, and preparing to take notes.

Mr. Diggory rolled his eyes. "Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins."

"What did the dustbins do?" asked Mr. Weasley, scribbling frantically.

"Made one heck of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell," said Mr. Diggory. "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the pleas—I mean police men turned up—"

Mr. Weasley groaned. "And what about the intruder?"

"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr. Diggory, rolling his eyes again. "Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there is a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he has had it—think of his record—we have got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department—what are exploding dustbins worth?"

"Might be caution," said Mr. Weasley, still writing very fast, his brow furrowed. "Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? he didn't actually attack anyone?"

"I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window," said Mr. Diggory, "but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties."

"All right, I'm off," Mr. Weasley said, and he stuffed the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dashed out of the kitchen again.

Mr. Diggory's head looked around at Mrs. Weasley.

"Sorry about this, Molly," he said, more calmly, "bothering you so early and everything… but Arthur's the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye is supposed to start his new job today. I told Sirius he should request to Dumbledore to go watch over Mad-Eye, but Sirius said he would be fine. Why he had to choose last night…"

"Never mind, Amos," said Mrs. Weasley. "Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?"

"Oh go on, then," said Mr. Diggory.

Since Mr. Diggory was using floo powder, Mrs. Weasley used tongs to take a butter toast and transferred it into Mr. Diggory's mouth.

"Fanks," he said in a muffled voice and then with a small pop, vanished.

"Who's Mad-Eye?" Hermione asked as she Ginny came into the kitchen with Bill, Charlie, and Percy.

"He's a famous Auror," Harry said. "He even trained Uncle Padfoot and Tonks."

"Idolizing Mad-Eye again Harry?" Bill asked.

"Huh?" Hermione said.

"When it comes to Aurors, Mad-Eye Moody is one of Harry's heroes." Charlie explained. "He idolizes the guy."

"So what if I do? He's one of the greatest Aurors of his time!" Harry said. "Even dad and uncle Padfoot say so."

Mr. Weasley rushed back through the kitchen, his robes on the right way now, dragging a comb through his hair.

"I'd better hurry-you guys have a good term," Mr. Weasley said to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disparate. "Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"

"Of course I will," she said. "You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine."

As Mr. Weasley vanished.

"So what has Mad-Eye been up to now?" Bill asked.

"He says someone tried to break into his house last night," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mad-Eye Moody being a nutter again," said George.

"He's not a nutter!" Harry responded.

"Face it, Harry. He's not what he used to be," Charlie said. "I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Does not trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark Wizards everywhere."

Bill and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really need to get to work.

"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told them. "Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me."

"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" said George seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."

They took the Weasley family car into town.

"I don't know why Arthur tried to hide the fact he enchanted this car to enlarge from the inside," Molly said.

"You knew about it?" Harry asked.

"Of course I seen enough Muggle cars at King Cross station to know one this size can't hold a large family," Molly said. "I went ahead with it because it's one modification I can't complain against with our family."

As they were loading, several Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks went off unexpectedly when Fred's trunk sprang open, getting him in trouble with Mrs. Weasley.

The journey was long, but they made it to London and too King Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across he busy road and into the station.

One at a time they ran through the barrier 9 and 10 to 9 and 3/4s, making sure not to attract any Muggle attention.

The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghost.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione!" Neville greeted them with his Grans.

"Hey Neville," Harry said. "How are you?"

"Great!" Neville said. "Come on, I found us a compartment."

"Great!" Ron responded.

They got a compartment halfway along the train. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville stowed their luggage in a compartment. Then they hopped back down to say good-bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

"Why?" said Fred keenly.

"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mention it… it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looing almost wistfully at the train.

"Why?" said George impatiently.

"You're going to have to an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it…"

"A bit of what?" said Ron.

"Stop teasing them boys," Augusta chided Charlie and Bill.

At that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

"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 again this year, what with… one thing and another."

"Molly!" Augusta said.

"What d'you guys know that we don't?" said Ron irritably.

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley smiling. "It's going to be very exciting-mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules—"

"What rules?" Harry asked.

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

The pistons hissed loudly, and the train began to move. Before long Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, and Mrs. Longbottom disappeared as the train had rounded the corner.

Harry, Ron Hermione, and Neville went back to their compartment is Ginny went to search for Luna. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Pig was hooting loudly so Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his dress robes and flung them over the cage.

"I wonder what that's about," Harry said.

"I don't know. That is strange," Ron said.

"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her fingers to her lips, and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. The boys listened and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

"…Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore—the man's such a Mudblood-lover—Durmstrang does not admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother did not like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them not just the defense rubbish we do…"

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

"I wish Malfoy did go to Durmstrang," Harry admitted. "He is far from us."

"Any idea where it is?" asked Ron.

"I think Dumbledore once told me Durmstrang was in northern Europe where as Beauxbatons is somewhere in France," Harry said. "But the exact location is a secret even from Headmasters."

Hermione Ron and Neville were not surprised to hear that. Harry practically grew up around Hogwarts and knew most professors there before he was student due to his dad teaching Astronomy. Harry even has close enough to Dumbledore that if he knew the password, he could enter the Headmaster's office anytime he wanted.

"But those schools have to be the same size as Hogwarts—how are you going to hide a great big castle?" asked Ron.

"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, in surprise. "Everyone who read Hogwarts: A History knows that."

"Ron doesn't read that stuff," Harry reminded her. "Ron, Hogwarts is bewitched to throw off Muggles. Too them it's a condemned ruins too dangerous for anyone to enter."

"All magical schools are supposed to be like that," Hermione said. "Even foreign wizards can't find it."

"How do you know Beauxbaton is in France then?" Ron asked.

"Because Dumbledore told me the students there speak mainly French," Harry replied. "And after that girl tried to ask us in French about her Head Mistress, I'm guessing its true."

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor and Harry treated his friends to Cauldron cakes and Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans for a friendly competition.

"Honestly, don't you boys ever get sick and tired competing each other with that?" Hermione asked.

"Nope," Harry, Ron, and Neville replied.

Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking "Troy—Mullet—Moran!" but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way. After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm.

"Weasley… what is that?"

Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently, they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

Malfoy was pointing at Pig's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff obvious.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean—they were very fashionable in about 1890…"

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" said Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.

"So going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well; you know… you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won…"

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," said Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face.

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me ages ago… heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father is always associated with the top people at the Ministry… Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley… yes… they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him…"

Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle and the three of them disappeared.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered. Fortunately, Hermione fixed the window with her wand using "Reparo!"

"Malfoy doesn't know what he's talking about," Harry said. "Your dad must of knew whatever is going on and told your mom, Bill and Charlie. That would explain why they were acting strange."

"Then why not tell us?" Ron asked.

"Probably not suppose too," Hermione said. "Percy did say it wasn't supposed to be known until the Minister say so."

That did not help Ron's mood for the rest of the journey. He was still glowering when they changed into their school robes and when Hogwarts Express slowed down and finally came to a stop in the pitch darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundle up Crookshanks in her cloak, and Ron left his dress robes over Pig as they left the train, heads bent, and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.