August flew by in the Dursley home and, before long, it was time for Harry and Dudley to start on different paths. Although they took turns in tending to Hedwig – the owl Hagrid and Uncle Vernon had gotten Harry for his birthday – they hadn't really said much to each other since Harry's birthday, with both boys wrapping themselves up with the excuse that they were getting themselves used to their new curriculums, but it was a distancing that had not gone unnoticed by Mr and Mrs Dursley. While the two adults had tried to split their time between the boys they could not help but feel anxious about what lay ahead.

'I don't want what happened to Lily and me to happen to them, Vernon,' confided Aunt Petunia. 'We lost so many years. I keep thinking… what if we had told them sooner?'

'What if we hadn't let Marge… impose herself.' Uncle Vernon sighed heavily. 'I've been remembering a lot of things about what happened back then. A lot of things we could have done differently.'

'But we tried, didn't we? Despite everything, we did try.' She picked up the photograph of Harry, Dudley, and Vernon playing a computer game and showed it to her husband. 'He was part of our family.'

'He is part of our family, Petunia. He always will be.'

'But he's going away. Him and Dudley both. Everything's changing and…'

'And what if we can't protect him anymore?' finished Uncle Vernon. He grunted a little as he got up out of his armchair. 'We knew it was going to happen eventually-'

'But not like this. The magic… the letter said-'

'Hagrid says this Professor Dumbledore knows what he's doing,' he took Petunia's hands in his own, 'you have said that Dumbledore is amazing. We have to trust that.'

He picked up a picture of Harry and Dudley grinning together and continued, 'Harry's famous. I never realised how much until that day, but he's famous and there are people out there who will look after him. They can do things we can't, no matter how much we love him.'

'What if he hates us for holding him back?'

'Then I wouldn't be the boy you raised me to me,' said Harry, as he and Dudley stepped into the room. Both boys had red faces and streaked cheeks, and both held opened envelopes in their hands.

Harry walked over to his Uncle's armchair and sat on the left armrest, closest to the fireplace. 'I just want you all to know that nothing has changed. Aunt Marge and one of her dogs will be here for Christmas, only this time I might not be here for-'

'You're not coming home for Christmas?'

'I don't know. I don't know if-'

'You're allowed. You are. Lily always came, except for when she was getting ready for her O.W.L.s, but she always came.'

Harry laughed and Dudley snorted.

'What's so funny?' asked Aunt Petunia.

'Harry thought that being a wizard meant no exams,' chuckled Dudley.

'And then I checked one of the books. Dudley's going to be doing things like Latin and I'm going to be studying Runes and other weird things, and there are going to be exams.'

'You're just like your Mother when she said something like that,' said Aunt Petunia, and she wrapped her arms around Harry and squeezed him. She pulled back and held him at arm's length and then adjusted his glasses. 'She was good at Charms and Potions.'

'She always was a charmer,' chuckled Uncle Vernon.

Aunt Petunia rolled her eyes and continued: 'Your Dad was more… well, he could fly, even with a "rubbish broom", and, from what Lily told me-'

'And what happened at our wedding,' said Uncle Dudley quickly.

'He was quite partial to Transfiguration.'

'What if-'

'You, my boys, have to find your own paths.' She gestured for Dudley to come over and wrapped her arms around them both. 'Be yourselves. Dudley's going to hear stories about Vernon and you're going to hear ones about Lily and James, but those are their stories. You have to make your own.'

Dinner was cheery and there was a lot rushing back and forth to make sure Harry's trunk was packed but, although everyone turned in early on that 31st of August, no one really slept. Dudley stared at the wall separating him and Harry and remembered the times he had wronged his cousin and how, in time, they had become brothers. Petunia and Vernon didn't say a word to each other. They wanted to, but both lay in their bed and stared at the ceiling, lost in thoughts of how things could have been different and how everything was changing. Harry sat on his bed, cross-legged, using a small flashlight to look at pictures from his parents' wedding.

Eventually, they all dozed off but the phone call at 6am had all four of them up and about in a panic.

Marge was coming.

A little before 8am Harry turned to look at the house again. His heart raced and he tried his utmost to ignore the burning in his eyes. Dudley, taking no notice of his parents' gestures, tugged on Harry's shirt collar and directed him to the car. 'You'll be back in the summer,' he said, 'but if we don't go now she's going to get here.'

Harry nodded, took one more look at 4 Privet Drive, and got in the car.

'King's Cross, Platform 9 and three-quarters!' whooped Aunt Petunia.

'Excuse me?' said Uncle Dudley, taken aback at his wife's excited outburst.

'Come on, come on,' she urged and Uncle Vernon, conscious of the time, started the car and pulled out of the drive. He glanced in his rear-view mirror and quickly asked Harry if he had the ticket Hagrid had given him.

Harry grunted, shifted, and pulled the envelope out of his backpack. 'Got it!' He looked at it and then showed Dudley and both of them said out loud: 'Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at 11am.'

Uncle Vernon harrumphed, shook his head, and began driving towards the motorway. Every few seconds he would glance at the clock on the dashboard and then growl a little at the speedometer. When the blue overhead sign for the motorway appeared he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and muttered, 'C'mon, c'mon.'

No one else said anything. Each of them was looking at the oncoming traffic, and they were all as anxious as Uncle Vernon. Hedwig, however, turned her gaze from Harry to Dudley and back again, curious about the silence and attention. Her cage slid a little as Uncle Vernon took the roundabout just before the exit to the motorway a little sharper than he had intended, but all four human occupants of the car breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed as the car roared, accelerating to the speed limit.

As they passed a red car, coming in from the opposite direction, Uncle Vernon hooted and asked Aunt Petunia for a breakfast sandwich.

Describing King's Cross Station as crowded is a bit of an understatement. As one of London's hubs the station is busy on a regular day, on this day, as children and teenagers were arriving and leaving, pushing luggage trolleys and hauling their bags, it was one of the station's busiest days of the year. Destinations and platform numbers were being shouted out across the concourse and the notice boards clitter-clattered their updates.

'Nothing about "Hogwarts" or "nine and three-quarters",' whispered Uncle Vernon, and Aunt Petunia smiled, took his arm, and began to lead the way. They headed towards platforms nine and ten, the adults at the front and Harry and Dudley stopping repeatedly as they cheekily 'checked' the brakes on the trolley.

As they neared the middle of the long platform, Aunt Petunia slowed and came to a stop. 'Now,' she said, 'watch that family there with the cat.' A little ahead of them was a family of four – the parents, a boy a couple of years older than Harry and Dudley, and a two-year-old being carried by the father. They headed towards the dividing barrier between the two platforms and shimmered, suddenly turning away and continuing up along platform nine.

Harry, however, gasped.

'I don't understand,' said Uncle Vernon.

'They disappeared,' said Harry, awestruck.

'No they didn't,' said Dudley and Uncle Vernon in unison. 'They're walking up there.'

Harry looked towards where they were pointing but couldn't see the family and so turned to his Aunt asked, 'How?'.

She shrugged. 'I see them walking up there, too, I just know to look for the shimmer. Like the Leaky Cauldron.'

Understanding dawned on the three of them and they looked again at the barrier between the platforms as another family headed towards it. To the Dursleys, the family shimmered, turned away, and headed up along the platform; to Harry, the family shimmered and vanished through the barrier.

'Like the Leaky Cauldron,' said Uncle Vernon firmly, and the four of them held on to the cart and, urged by Aunt Petunia, marched straight at the barrier, with only Aunt Petunia not closing her eyes.

The sight that greeted the family from No 4 Privet Drive was something three of them never expected. A scarlet steam engine, with wheels of shining silver and handles of bright gold, was waiting next to the platform, and it was surrounded by people… and cats. Cats of every colour wandered about, dashing between people's legs and jumping onto trunks. Owls hooted and toads trilled and ribbitted. The foggy glass ceiling of Kings Cross rose high above them and birds soared and dove and danced through the air. A sign overhead said "Hogwarts Express" and, when they turned around, they saw a wrought-iron archway, plain as day but with an empty wall beyond it, where the barrier had been. Across it were the words "Platform Nine and Three-Quarters".

Anticipating further arrivals, they moved to the side and set the trolley against a wall. Further along the platform were a series of small stands and stalls, most of them being associated with the shops found in Diagon Alley: 2nd Hand Brooms (and repairs) for those who may have damaged their broom on their way to the station; Amanuesnsis Quills, Scribbulus Writing Instruments and the Second-Hand Bookshop for any last minute school supplies; Gringotts Exchange; Sugarplum's Sweets, and a number of small stalls and peddlers selling snacks and drinks.

A tall brown-haired man in his late thirties stood by the part of the wall near the Scribbulus stand. Next to him, pushing herself into a tiptoe, was a woman of similar age, over a head shorter than the man and with lighter brown hair tied into a bun. The man noticed the Dursleys and waved at them enthusiastically. Stunned by the man's actions, Uncle Vernon stared at the red steam engine and tried to ignore that the man had started to move towards them and had gestured for the woman to follow.

'It's a bit strange seeing them go, isn't it?' said the man a little breathlessly.

'It is a little, yes,' mumbled Uncle Vernon, a little warier.

'I'm Michael,' said the man, holding out his hand, 'Michael Granger.' He stepped a little to the side and introduced the woman next to him, 'and this is my wife Carol.' Uncle Vernon introduced himself and the family, still guarded as to why the man had approached them. 'I hope you'll excuse our intrusion,' said Mr Granger, 'it's just… well, you looked more like us than-'

A caped couple and a boy wearing knickerbockers popped through the gate and Uncle Vernon and Mr Granger watched them walk by, squeaking in their rubber rain boots.

'Ah,' said Uncle Vernon, and he adjusted his jacket and relaxed a little.

'Our daughter, Hermione…'

'There was always something about her,' said Mrs Granger a little distractedly, paying more attention to the train than to the group, yet eager to talk about her daughter, 'but it was always about learning rather than anything… odd.'

'So no… strange happenings?' ventured Uncle Vernon.

'Birthday candles suddenly lighting up,' Mrs Granger stopped tiptoeing and counted off on her fingers, 'finding books on the coffee table even though we had just checked, my keys disappearing whenever it was time to leave the library-'

'Never thought that any of it was magic, though,' said Mr Granger.

'When she got the letter, and then the lady from Hogwarts came, I thought Michael was doing some sort of elaborate joke.'

'Someone came to see you?' asked Aunt Petunia. 'A stern-looking lady, perhaps?'

'Yes, yes, very stern. Hermione took an instant liking to her, although I think she was quite surprised by Hermione's questions.' Mrs Granger turned away slightly and began looking at the front of the train again.

Mr Granger looked down at Harry, smiled, and said, 'And Harry's your first?'

'No,' said Aunt Petunia.

'Yes,' said Uncle Vernon.

The Grangers looked at them quizzically.

'I mean… he's our nephew. His parents are… um…'

The Grangers' eyes widened a little with realisation and while Mr Granger's face reddened a little Mrs Granger's turned a little paler. 'Oh. I'm so sorry.'

Avoiding the awkwardness as best he could, Harry crouched down to check on Hedwig. Unseen by him, in the distance, near the front of the train, a girl with bushy brown hair popped her head out of a carriage window.

'I told you she would look for us!' said Mrs Granger, and she excused herself and headed into the crowd.

'Our card,' said Mr Granger. 'Maybe we can… exchange stories some time. Muggle to Muggle.'

'"Muggle to Muggle",' acknowledged Uncle Vernon with a smile, and he took the card and watched Mr Granger head off after his wife.

Uncle Vernon looked at the card. 'Dentists, eh? Explains the teeth,' he chuckled.

Harry looked up at the clock and saw that it was almost ten minutes to eleven. A burst of panic flashed through him and, for a brief few seconds, he wondered if he was doing the right thing in going to the school. He looked at the strangely dressed people and remembered the way the robes had irritated the back of his neck and how he had almost tripped on them when he came down the stairs. He saw the children running around creating sparks and lights and flowers and the nagging thought resurfaced that he would be no good at magic. He saw older children laugh and hug and reunite and the other thought, the one he had ignored, taunted him. Would he be able to make friends? He wondered if, come eleven o'clock, he should still be standing on the platform as the train pulled away. That all of this had been some nice and strange dream of a world that might have been and-

Suddenly a teenage boy with flaming red hair appeared. He was pushing a trunk like the one the Dursleys had bought Harry in Diagon Alley, and he moved a little to the side and waited. A couple of seconds later and another boy, slightly younger but also with flaming red hair appeared, also pushing a trunk. A few seconds more and another boy, looking exactly like the second one, appeared, and Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes.

'Definitely twins,' whispered Dudley, and Harry smiled at his cousin, relieved.

Another red-haired boy, this one around Harry's age, appeared and the second and third boy grabbed him and started tousling his hair.

Finally, a plump woman and a young girl, both with hair just as flaming red as the boys, appeared and looked around. Shaking his head at the teasing the twins were giving the youngest boy, the first boy nodded at the woman, smiled, and headed off to board the train.

'I wanna go to Hogwarts!' said the little girl, and she dashed away in the opposite direction.

'Ginny, come back here!' shouted the woman. Embarrassed, blushing a little, she quickly apologised to the Dursleys and the other people around her and hurried into the crowd to find her daughter. The twins laughed and the boy smiled and tried to sneak away with his trunk, only for the twins to grab him under his arms and carry him away.

'We should probably find you a seat, Harry,' said Uncle Vernon. He took hold of one end of the trunk and Dudley quickly grabbed the other. Harry shouldered his satchel and Aunt Petunia picked up Hedwig's cage, and the four of them moved into the crowd, apologising almost every step of the way. They passed a round-faced boy who was saying, 'Gran, I've lost my toad again,' and the old woman sighed.

They found an empty compartment near the end of the train and Dudley and Uncle Vernon heaved the trunk up through the door and into the compartment. Dudley reached out for Hedwig and carried the cage in and then, just as Harry placed his foot onto the first step, Aunt Petunia put her hand on his arm and stopped him.

'Harry,' she said, and she looked up at her husband and took a breath when he nodded, 'there's something I've been meaning to say to you.'

Harry's throat tightened as his Aunt took him over to a bench and sat down while Uncle Vernon and Dudley stayed in the carriage doorway. Just a little further down the platform were the red-haired family. The eldest boy had come back, dressed in robes and with a shiny silver badge on his chest. They were too far for Harry to hear anything, and the hissing of the train masked even Dudley and Uncle Vernon's conversation.

Aunt Petunia sat close to the rim of the bench-seat, her back straight and hands clasped in her lap, and said, 'I don't know what's true and what isn't, I only know what my instincts say-'

'About?'

She slouched a little. '… Your Godfather'

'Siri…' Harry choked on the name and then tried again, 'what about him?

'He wasn't in Slytherin.'

'What do you mean? Hagrid said-'

She turned slightly, facing her nephew, and Harry noticed high tightly she had her fingers clenched. 'That's just it, Harry, Hagrid didn't say. I did.'

'I don't understand.'

'I said that he had been in Slytherin. That's what I thought, then, when Hagrid was telling us about him. But I remembered afterwards… later… his family were Slytherin.'

'But Hagrid said that Slytherins went bad and-'

'He wasn't, though. He was a Gryffindor like your Mum and Dad, so if Hagrid's right about only Slytherins going bad then he would never have gone bad.'

'And if Hagrid's wrong about that and right about-'

'Then it's not just Slytherins, no matter what Hagrid might want to believe.'

Harry stared at the ground. 'Can I tell you something?' he whispered.

'Of course you can.'

'I'm scared.'

'Of?'

'Everything. I'm just me. Harry Potter. The boy who lives with his aunt and uncle and cousin. That's me. But when I get on that train, everything is going to be different. I'm going to be Harry Potter, "The Boy Who Lived".'

'Who called you that?'

'It's in the books.'

'That's what they're calling you?'

Harry nodded and Aunt Petunia looked at her nephew and then over at her husband and son and, for the first time in a long time, she whispered:

'I wish your Mum was here.'

Quickly and quietly, Harry took his Aunt's hand in his and said, 'She is.'

The whistle sounded.

'Sirius,' said Harry, 'do you think he-'

'No. Never.'

'Why?'

'Just… trust me. He would never.'

Uncle Vernon and Dudley stepped off the carriage and onto the platform.

'Azkaban's really bad,' said Harry.

'I know… and if he's been there for the last ten years…'

They sat there for a moment, hand in hand, and then, as the minute hand on the clock moved to the number 12, Aunt Petunia patted her nephew on the knee, stood up, straightened her clothes and got ready to say goodbye.

'You promise you'll write?'

'Every day.'

'Don't go making promises you can't keep, young man.'

'Okay,' he grinned, 'I'll try to write every day.'

The whistle sounded again.

Harry hugged his family and stepped onto the train. He closed the door and looked out of the window. He saw the red haired woman pull out a handkerchief and the little red haired girl jump up and down and wave at people he couldn't see. He smiled at the Dursleys and waved quickly.

The train began to move and the Dursleys waved. Dudley jogged alongside the train for a few seconds as it gathered speed and stopped as the little girl ran passed him before she, too, stopped and waved.

Harry stepped into the compartment and smiled at Hedwig. 'It's just the two of us now,' he said, but Hedwig shook her head and hooted softly. 'No? Just me?'

The door of the compartment slid open, just as Harry pulled out a book from his satchel, and the youngest redheaded boy he had seen earlier came in.

Before the boy could say anything, Harry grinned, pointed at the empty seat opposite where he was standing, and gestured for him to come in. The boy sighed with relief and collapsed into the seat, letting his bag fall onto the seat with him. He looked over at Hedwig and smiled.

'That's a beautiful owl,' he said.

'Thanks. She's a birthday present from my Uncle and Hagrid.'

The boy sat up. 'You know Hagrid?'

Harry nodded.

'My brothers told me about him. My parents and Percy keep saying that George and Fred exaggerate everything about him but Bill and Charlie said to me that they haven't even told me the half of it.'

Harry counted off the names and said, 'Five brothers?'

Ron nodded, 'And a sister. Ginny. Fred and George are twins. You can't miss them. Percy's a prefect. I'm Ron, by the way. What about you?'

'I'm… well, I'm an orphan and my-'

Ron's smile faded and he looked over at Hedwig again.

'It's okay,' said Harry, 'it was a long time ago. I've lived with my Aunt and Uncle since I was a baby.'

It was then that Ron noticed the scar on Harry's forehead, covered by his hair, and he leaned forward, awed.

'You're-'

'Hmm?'

'Blimey!' Ron slumped back into his seat, ran his hands through his hair and exhaled.

'What's wrong?'

'You're Harry Potter!' he whispered, almost squeaking.

Harry nodded, self-conscious, and Ron composed himself and sat up again.

'I've never really met Muggles before, or even a Muggle-born,' said Ron, and he leaned forward a little. 'I've seen them, like now, at the station, but everyone was in a hurry – us and them – but what are they like at home?'

'No different from… from us, really. They just can't do magic. There's good and bad,' and he tapped the copy of A History of Magic and said, 'just like the wizarding world.'

Ron stared at the book and then sat back, upright, and looked at Harry, worried. 'You started studying already?'

Harry laughed. 'I'm behind everyone, I expect,' and gestured around them, 'this is your world, I've only just found out about it.'

'I suppose,' Ron murmured, still uncomfortable.

'Look,' said Harry, and this time he leaned forward a little, 'you've seen Quidditch being played, right? Probably ridden a broom. Obviously seen your parents do magic. All of that is normal for you. Not for me. Not for the others.' He pulled out the copy of the Daily Prophet that Hagrid had bought from the owl on the day they first met and pointed at the pictures on the cover. 'In my world, the Muggle world, these don't move. Not on newspapers. Things like this are strange to me.'

'They don't move?'

'No.'

Ron mouthed 'weird' and shook his head a little. 'But loads of people come from Muggle families and they all learn quick enough.'

'Walking through barriers in Kings Cross, self-stirring cauldrons¸ goblins, all of that is what we have in stories and movies and comics.'

'Movies?'

'Yeah, y'know, films…'

Ron shook his head and this time Harry slumped backwards in his seat and gaped.

For over an hour the two boys talked and exchanged stories and experiences. Ron told Harry about his family and the frustrating thing about being part of such a large family, and Harry told him about cars and portable computer games and live around Marge Dursley. Ron showed Harry Scabbers, the hand-me-down-pet rat the Weasleys had had for the last ten years, and his battered and chipped hand-me-down wand. He even tried to do a spell but nothing happened. Harry showed Ron some of the comics he had brought with him and his old albums of football stickers.

'My Dad would love meeting you,' said Ron, 'he always says that Muggle-borns find his questions weird.' He tilted one of the albums from side to side and shook it a couple of times and then put it to one side.

'It would be like a "Cultural Exchange". That's what my Aunt calls it.'

'But didn't you ever wonder?'

'About?'

'The scar? The magic?'

'I didn't know anything about any of it until the letter arrived. I didn't know anything about Voldemort un-' He saw Ron's face turn white and stopped talking. He looked around the compartment and at the wall behind himself twice and then, worried, he asked, 'What?'

'You said… you said the name,' said Ron, and Harry frowned at the awe in Ron's voice.

'Oh, I thought it was just Hagrid who didn't like it.'

'No one likes it,' said Ron.

Scabbers suddenly shook himself away and scrambled over Ron's knee and towards the door. Curious, the boys watched the rat and then, a couple of seconds later, they heard the rattling sound of trolley wheels coming from the corridor. Harry glanced at Ron and saw the boy shift himself a little deeper into his seat. The door opened and a kindly woman popped her head in and asked if they wanted anything from the laden trolley.

Ron said he had brought sandwiches but Harry, even though his Aunt had packed him a lunch made up of last night's leftovers, was curious. Steadying himself against the train's movement, he got up and went out into the corridor to take a look. 'I know this isn't proper,' Ron heard him say, 'but what if I buy everything and you can give it to everyone who wants something?' He didn't hear the lady's reply but, when Harry came back into the compartment, he saw that he was carrying all sorts of treats in his arms.

'My aunt told me she had had some "unpleasant" experiences with some of the sweets she remembers my Mum sharing with her,' Harry said as he deposited the pile of sweets onto the seat, 'so we didn't get much when we were in Diagon Alley, but maybe you can help me learn about these?'

Ron looked at the brown-paper package he had placed on top of his bag and then back at the goodies on the seat. 'I suppose Scabbers can have some of this,' he said, and he opened the package and placed a sandwich in front of the rat.

They ate and talked and Ron explained the Chocolate Frogs and their collectible cards, the dangers of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans – 'they really are every flavour' – and they wondered if, with the right amount of air, they could maybe fly away with a packet of Brooble's Best Blowing Gum.

Every now and then, someone would hurry down the corridor and, even more frequently, they would hear loud voices telling people to stop running.

'Probably Percy and his friends being all bossy,' muttered Ron. 'He learned this spell where you could hear him from the other side of the field.'

'You have a field?'

Ron shrugged. 'A few of them. Middle of nowhere, though.'

'Our garden's too small for our bikes,' said Harry, 'and the last field I went to was when we went fruit-picking last year.'

'Trevor,' came a voice from the corridor. 'Where are you? Anyone seen Trevor? He's a toad.'

The compartment door slid open and, before the anxious boy could say anything, Ron said, 'No toads in here. Sorry.'

'We have chocolate frogs, though,' said Harry, 'and maybe one of the Prefects can do a locator spell or something.'

'I suppose,' said the boy. He glanced from Hedwig to Scabbers and then flumped into the seat next to Harry. 'At least yours are still here, mine keeps running away.'

Ron poked at Scabbers and muttered, 'Sometimes I wish mine would.' He looked at the boy's sad face and then picked up Scabbers and moved him away from the part-nibbled sandwich. 'I'm going to try that spell again.'

'Maybe I could try?' said Harry. He pulled out a long case and opened it. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was the wand he had bought from Ollivander's.

'I've only held this once,' he said.

He felt a warm tingle move up his arm, and then the door slid open again. A girl with bushy brown hair stood at the opening and frowned at the sad boy. 'Neville,' she said, 'how are you going to find Trevor if you stop looking?'

'He said that maybe the Prefects could do a locator spell,' said Neville, nervously.

'Oh,' said the girl, 'I suppose they might. Maybe.' She saw Harry with his wand in his hand and stepped further into the compartment. 'Are you going to try?'

'No,' said Harry, and his eye widened when he noticed that the girl was already in her Hogwarts robes.

'Then?'

'What's the spell again?' Harry asked Ron.

'Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.'

Harry repeated the words and there was a hum and Scabbers began to glow and then the light faded away. Scabbers was not yellow.

'The words are a little…' said the girl, disapprovingly.

'Intent is a key part, though,' said Harry.

Ron and Neville looked at each other and then at Harry and the girl.

'True,' said the girl, 'intent is a key part, but words and names have power.'

'So maybe if we use his name?' Harry ventured, and the girl nodded. Harry tried the spell again and Scabbers shimmered and the light faded again.

'There's potential, though,' said the girl, and she smiled a little. 'I've tried a few spells that worked but didn't think of making one up. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Who-'

'You're Hermione?' exclaimed Harry.

'Yes…' said Hermione, and she frowned. 'Why?'

Harry stammered a little and quickly said, 'Oh, nothing. I just… well, I met your parents on the platform.'

'Did you? Oh, you're the one like me… Muggle-born? Harry, right?'

Ron snorted.

'What's so funny?' asked Hermione, sharply.

'You. Calling him a Muggle-born. He's the most famous boy in the whole of the wizarding world!'

Hermione gasped with realisation. 'You're Harry Potter!'

And all Harry's efforts up to that moment failed, and he blushed.

Hermione sat down, more animated than when she had first come into the compartment, and she pulled Neville down to sit next to her. 'You must have so many stories,' she said.

Harry shook his head. 'I don't, actually. I'm sort of like you.'

'Like me?'

'He lived with Muggles his whole life,' said Ron, authoritatively, puffing out his chest a little.

Hermione looked a little disappointed. 'Oh. I thought… maybe that… others visited.'

'No one. I didn't even know about any of this until my birthday.'

Hermione turned to Ron and asked, 'And you are?'

'Ron Weasley.'

'Weasley… Weasley. That's an old family, isn't it?' She gasped. 'Doesn't your brother look after dragons in Romania?'

'Um… yes?' said Ron, stunned by the fact that Hermione knew so much about his family and trying to ignore Harry's gape.

'Have you seen any? You must-' Ron, now wide-eyed, shook his head vigorously and Hermione, disappointed, stopped asking questions. She got up and excused herself and Neville, advised Harry and Ron to get their robes on, and left.

'That's two of you who have been practising!' exclaimed Ron.

Harry shook his head as he closed his wand box. 'I told you, we're behind.'

'She said the spells she tried worked for her.'

'But she didn't say what those spells were.'

The door slid open again, this time three boys entered. Harry recognised the one in the middle: Draco Malfoy. The other two boys were thickset and extremely mean-looking and stood on either side of the door.

'I heard you were down here, Potter, but I didn't want to believe it. I thought to myself, "That Potter seemed to be bright, he'd know not to hang out around here".' He nodded towards Ron. 'Thought you would have listened to my advice and avoided the riff-raff.' He grimaced a little. 'Honestly, Potter, allowing yourself to be stuck in a room with a Weasley. I told you, some wizarding families are much better than others. All the Weasleys are good for is having red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.'

'Can't be that bad if you decided to walk in here, though,' said Harry.

The two thickset boys lurched forward but Draco held up his hands and said, 'It's okay, Crabb. Goyle. Potter here doesn't know our ways yet.'

'I'm not sure I want to,' said Harry. He picked up a chocolate frog and watched it jump from his right hand to his left and back again, leaving small chocolate stains on his palms. He looked up saw Crabb looking longingly at the frog. He held out a few frogs and offered it to them. 'Plenty to go round.'

'So the other rumour is true, then?' asked Draco.

'What rumour?'

'That you bought out the trolley?'

'I… I thought people might get hungry,' said Harry.

'Harry Potter the Boy Who Bribes,' said Goyle.

'Good one, Goyle,' snorted Draco, 'guess he has to buy friends somehow.'

'You sure you don't want one?' said Harry, as he held out another chocolate frog.

'You expect us to eat with you and him?' sneered Draco.

Harry shrugged. 'It's up to you but it looks like they wouldn't mind.'

'I would,' said Ron, and Harry looked at him, surprised.

Draco snorted.

'I've heard about your family, Malfoy.'

'Oh?'

'Claimed to have been bewitched by You-Know-Who when he disappeared.'

'My father-'

'Your father didn't need an excuse to go over to the dark side.'

The two boys stared at each other, both red in the face.

'There's something I heard once, Potter,' said Draco, not taking his eyes off of Ron, 'that you should keep your mind open and principles firm. My family upholds its principles.'

'You saying mine doesn't?' snarled Ron.

Draco took a step back and cast his eye over the compartment and shook his head when he spotted Scabbers. 'It's okay, mistakes happen.' He looked at Harry and said, 'Come sit with us. The journey's almost over and there's lots we can tell you.'

'If it's all the same to you, I'm quite comfortable here.'

Draco shook his head and sighed. 'You're making a mistake Potter. I can only look out for you so much. Come along boys.'

After Draco and the others left, Harry and Ron sat in the compartment for a little while, neither saying a word to the other. Outside the window, as the sky slowly grew darker, they could see that the train was slowing down.

A squeaky announcement echoed through the compartment and Harry and Ron stared at each other for a couple of seconds as the realisation sunk in that they had less than five minutes to get ready. They fumbled and stumbled as the train slowed and they pulled their robes on and picked up their litter while stuffing the remaining sweets and pasties into their pockets and satchels.

'I'm sorry about before,' mumbled Ron, 'it's just… what I've heard from my Dad… he works for the Ministry and-'

'It's okay, Ron. I just-'

'What?'

'Should we really judge Draco because of his Dad?'

'A Malfoy's a Malfoy, Harry. He'll be Slytherin like the rest of them.'

'They can't all be that bad.'

Ron shrugged and the train came to a stop. The boys opened the door and stepped into the crowded corridor. As they neared the door to the platform they heard a voice say, 'Firs' years! Firs' years over here!' over and over.

Harry nudged Ron and whispered, 'That's Hagrid's voice.' Ron nodded and grinned nervously. They stepped onto the dark platform and gasped and shivered at the cold night air. Ahead they could see a lamp bobbing in the air, high above the height of the train. The light danced off a bearded face and there were gasps of awe as the first years caught sight of Hagrid.

'Blimey!' whispered Ron.

'All right there, Harry?' said Hagrid, and the crowd of students turned to see who he had been addressing. Harry and Ron stood there, self-conscious, and Harry gave Hagrid a little wave. After Hagrid loudly gave the instruction for the first years to follow him, a whisper began to spread.

Some of the first years looked back, curious as to where the older students were going, but the darkness soon enveloped them and hid them from sight. 'Not much further now and y'all get to see the castle. She's a beauty, she is. You'll see.'

There were loud gasps of aww and one voice said, 'It's bigger than the Queen's!' Another wondered if there would be fireworks while a third exclaimed that there should be.

There was a great black lake and, beyond it, on a mountain, was a massive castle with turrets and towers and lights, and the moon winking through the clouds at everyone below.

'Hello, Hogwarts,' whispered Harry.