Steam gushed from the top of a scarlet engine, stirring the expectant
occupants of Platform 9 ¾ into fits of coughing. Harry Potter fumbled his
glasses off of his nose and hastily wiped them on his sweater, smearing the
round lenses with impatient swipes. Having polished them to his
satisfaction, Harry replaced them on his nose and squinted around the
station expectantly. A small girl in the stiff robes of a Hogwarts first-
year was whining in a high-pitched voice, clutching something that looked
suspiciously like a skunk. ".but Mummy he wants to go, can I please,
please, PLEASE bring him, I promise he'll be good and won't eat any of the
sheets.."
Her mother, who seemed a bit harassed, was ineffectually trying to disengage her daughter from her pet. "No Ivy, and I don't want to tell you again to LET-IT-GO."
A group of boys about Harry's age were frantically comparing parchments, accompanied by cries of "Are you SURE he assigned us five rolls on the Pixie Plague of 1420? I thought it was three." and "But eye of newt goes in before the frog's toe, I'm SURE of it."
Over in the corner three frumpy witches were tearfully hugging a couple of embarrassed-looking children, while a thin wizard with a bright tray around his neck sold sweets. Harry took a deep breath. After three months of long, sustained boredom at the Dursley's, it was good to be back in the magical world. Still, something was missing... A loud crash echoed behind him, followed by a muffled shrieking that slowly worked itself up into a crescendo. Harry turned to the source of the noise and almost had an eye knocked out as a ball of feathers whizzed past his ear. Hooting madly, the shape did an abrupt 360 turn and bobbed about Harry's head. Harry grinned as he surveyed the wreckage from which the fuzzy projectile had shot. Distinct shouting could now be heard, mingling with Pigwidgeon's frenzied hoots.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, driving your cart into me like that?!"
"Don't you take that tone with me Ron Weasely, if you hadn't swerved your cart in front of me-"
"You STOPPED, what was I supposed to do, offer you a chair?!"
Harry grinned as he surveyed the wreckage. Ronald Weasely's face was pale with anger, making his freckles stand out sharply against his nose. He towered over Hermione, his lanky frame shaking in frustration as he gesticulated wildly, arms waving like a windmill. Hermione, stretched until she wobbled on her tip-toes, still barely managed reach Ron's chest, which she was poking savagely with a finger. Her bushy hair stuck up at odd angles, and her chin sticking out pugnaciously as she tilted her face towards Ron, fixing him with a steady glare. The two stood amidst a mess of spilled luggage, their shouting having drawn onlookers from the crowd at the station. A trunk had tipped over, throwing a jumble of books onto the cobblestones.
::That one must be Hermione's:: Harry thought. Pigwidgeon's cage lay on its side, the door swinging crazily, and two trolleys lay in a mangled heap, their wheels turning in the air. Abruptly the shouting stopped, as Ron and Hermione felt eyes upon them.
Moving as one, the now silent pair turned, faces slowly flushing as they confronted the amused gazes of their fellow wizards. Ron fidgeted uncomfortably, his long arms now limp at his sides, the tips of his ears burning. Hermione, a spot of pink in each cheek, covered her embarrassment by running over to Harry.
"Harry! It's so good to see you!"
"It's great to see you too, Hermione," Harry grinned at Ron over the top of Hermione's head. "I take it the ride to the station didn't go well?"
"Don't ask," Ron rolled his eyes. "How was your summer, mate?"
Harry's grin faded. "The same as always."
Hermione kicked Ron sharply on the shins.
"Ow!" Ron's ears began to turn pink again. "Oh blimey, I'm sorry Harry. I forgot."
"Forget it." Eager to change the subject, Harry lowered his voice. "What's the news from The Order?" During the summer Ron and Hermione, as well as Lupin and Mad-Eye, had done their best to keep Harry updated. However, their information had been sketchy at best, and Harry was eager for more accurate reports.
Ron's face went a bit pale. "Not good. There was some trouble at Headquarters two nights ago."
"Trouble? What happened?"
Hermione answered, her eyes large and frightened-looking. "They don't know, exactly. Headquarters was empty - Ron's family were all at the Burrow, and the rest were watching you, Harry-"
Harry flinched at that, but Hermione continued. "When Tonks and Professor Lupin came back in the morning, they - they found-" Hermione looked as if she was about to be sick.
Ron finished hurriedly. "Well, you know those that row of house-elf heads in the entrance hallway? There's been a new addition."
"Kreacher?"
Ron and Hermione nodded.
"Good."
"Harry!" Hermione looked scandalized. "How can you say that?"
"How can you still defend him - it?!" Harry demanded. "That *thing* betrayed Sirius!"
"We know, Harry. I'm not saying what creature did was right. But he still didn't deserve to die that way..mounted on a wall like some disgusting trophy, it's positively inhumane."
"It's still better than he deserved." Harry muttered.
Hermione sighed, but didn't press the point. Ron cut in quickly.
"No matter what he deserved, the Order's in an uproar. Mad-Eye's gone dotty, he's spelled and counter-spelled every inch of the house looking for spy magic. He's convinced that the only way to prevent every member from being cursed by Death-Eaters in their sleep is to relocate Headquarters altogether, but nobody else is too keen on that idea. After all, it was only a house-elf, and nothing's been disturbed or tapped, as far as they can tell."
A sharp whistle sounded, signaling ten minutes until boarding time.
Hermione scooped the last of her books into a trunk. "We'd better get going. We can talk about this more on the train."
Harry nodded his head at Pigwidgeon, who was still fluttering about his head. "Do you need help getting Pig back in his cage?"
"Nah."
Ron fished around in a pocket of his well-worn robe and pulled out an Owl Treat. He waved it at Pigwidgeon, who seemed not to notice. "C'mon, Pig." Ron shook the toast. "Pig! PIG!"
Finally, the little owl seemed to notice its name, and zipped towards Ron to investigate.
"Practically have to beat him over the head with it to get him to notice." Ron caught the busily crunching bird and gently shut him in his cage. "Bloody owl," he said affectionately.
Harry, watching Ron with his pet, suddenly realized something. "Hey, Hermione.where's Crookshanks?"
Hermione's face fell. "He couldn't come."
"Why?" Harry kept his voice concerned, trying hard to ignore Ron, who was busy pantomiming cheers behind Hermione's back.
"It - it seems that I'm allergic to cat hair."
Harry wasn't quite sure what to say to that. "Erm... gosh, I'm sorry Hermione."
The whistle sounded on the train, breaking the awkward silence. Harry's grin returned. "C'mon, you guys. I'll race you to your seats!"
Her mother, who seemed a bit harassed, was ineffectually trying to disengage her daughter from her pet. "No Ivy, and I don't want to tell you again to LET-IT-GO."
A group of boys about Harry's age were frantically comparing parchments, accompanied by cries of "Are you SURE he assigned us five rolls on the Pixie Plague of 1420? I thought it was three." and "But eye of newt goes in before the frog's toe, I'm SURE of it."
Over in the corner three frumpy witches were tearfully hugging a couple of embarrassed-looking children, while a thin wizard with a bright tray around his neck sold sweets. Harry took a deep breath. After three months of long, sustained boredom at the Dursley's, it was good to be back in the magical world. Still, something was missing... A loud crash echoed behind him, followed by a muffled shrieking that slowly worked itself up into a crescendo. Harry turned to the source of the noise and almost had an eye knocked out as a ball of feathers whizzed past his ear. Hooting madly, the shape did an abrupt 360 turn and bobbed about Harry's head. Harry grinned as he surveyed the wreckage from which the fuzzy projectile had shot. Distinct shouting could now be heard, mingling with Pigwidgeon's frenzied hoots.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, driving your cart into me like that?!"
"Don't you take that tone with me Ron Weasely, if you hadn't swerved your cart in front of me-"
"You STOPPED, what was I supposed to do, offer you a chair?!"
Harry grinned as he surveyed the wreckage. Ronald Weasely's face was pale with anger, making his freckles stand out sharply against his nose. He towered over Hermione, his lanky frame shaking in frustration as he gesticulated wildly, arms waving like a windmill. Hermione, stretched until she wobbled on her tip-toes, still barely managed reach Ron's chest, which she was poking savagely with a finger. Her bushy hair stuck up at odd angles, and her chin sticking out pugnaciously as she tilted her face towards Ron, fixing him with a steady glare. The two stood amidst a mess of spilled luggage, their shouting having drawn onlookers from the crowd at the station. A trunk had tipped over, throwing a jumble of books onto the cobblestones.
::That one must be Hermione's:: Harry thought. Pigwidgeon's cage lay on its side, the door swinging crazily, and two trolleys lay in a mangled heap, their wheels turning in the air. Abruptly the shouting stopped, as Ron and Hermione felt eyes upon them.
Moving as one, the now silent pair turned, faces slowly flushing as they confronted the amused gazes of their fellow wizards. Ron fidgeted uncomfortably, his long arms now limp at his sides, the tips of his ears burning. Hermione, a spot of pink in each cheek, covered her embarrassment by running over to Harry.
"Harry! It's so good to see you!"
"It's great to see you too, Hermione," Harry grinned at Ron over the top of Hermione's head. "I take it the ride to the station didn't go well?"
"Don't ask," Ron rolled his eyes. "How was your summer, mate?"
Harry's grin faded. "The same as always."
Hermione kicked Ron sharply on the shins.
"Ow!" Ron's ears began to turn pink again. "Oh blimey, I'm sorry Harry. I forgot."
"Forget it." Eager to change the subject, Harry lowered his voice. "What's the news from The Order?" During the summer Ron and Hermione, as well as Lupin and Mad-Eye, had done their best to keep Harry updated. However, their information had been sketchy at best, and Harry was eager for more accurate reports.
Ron's face went a bit pale. "Not good. There was some trouble at Headquarters two nights ago."
"Trouble? What happened?"
Hermione answered, her eyes large and frightened-looking. "They don't know, exactly. Headquarters was empty - Ron's family were all at the Burrow, and the rest were watching you, Harry-"
Harry flinched at that, but Hermione continued. "When Tonks and Professor Lupin came back in the morning, they - they found-" Hermione looked as if she was about to be sick.
Ron finished hurriedly. "Well, you know those that row of house-elf heads in the entrance hallway? There's been a new addition."
"Kreacher?"
Ron and Hermione nodded.
"Good."
"Harry!" Hermione looked scandalized. "How can you say that?"
"How can you still defend him - it?!" Harry demanded. "That *thing* betrayed Sirius!"
"We know, Harry. I'm not saying what creature did was right. But he still didn't deserve to die that way..mounted on a wall like some disgusting trophy, it's positively inhumane."
"It's still better than he deserved." Harry muttered.
Hermione sighed, but didn't press the point. Ron cut in quickly.
"No matter what he deserved, the Order's in an uproar. Mad-Eye's gone dotty, he's spelled and counter-spelled every inch of the house looking for spy magic. He's convinced that the only way to prevent every member from being cursed by Death-Eaters in their sleep is to relocate Headquarters altogether, but nobody else is too keen on that idea. After all, it was only a house-elf, and nothing's been disturbed or tapped, as far as they can tell."
A sharp whistle sounded, signaling ten minutes until boarding time.
Hermione scooped the last of her books into a trunk. "We'd better get going. We can talk about this more on the train."
Harry nodded his head at Pigwidgeon, who was still fluttering about his head. "Do you need help getting Pig back in his cage?"
"Nah."
Ron fished around in a pocket of his well-worn robe and pulled out an Owl Treat. He waved it at Pigwidgeon, who seemed not to notice. "C'mon, Pig." Ron shook the toast. "Pig! PIG!"
Finally, the little owl seemed to notice its name, and zipped towards Ron to investigate.
"Practically have to beat him over the head with it to get him to notice." Ron caught the busily crunching bird and gently shut him in his cage. "Bloody owl," he said affectionately.
Harry, watching Ron with his pet, suddenly realized something. "Hey, Hermione.where's Crookshanks?"
Hermione's face fell. "He couldn't come."
"Why?" Harry kept his voice concerned, trying hard to ignore Ron, who was busy pantomiming cheers behind Hermione's back.
"It - it seems that I'm allergic to cat hair."
Harry wasn't quite sure what to say to that. "Erm... gosh, I'm sorry Hermione."
The whistle sounded on the train, breaking the awkward silence. Harry's grin returned. "C'mon, you guys. I'll race you to your seats!"