Hermione clasped my hand tightly and led me to the wall right in between platforms 9 and 10. "Now then," she whispered to me, "Getting on to Platform 9 and three-quarters isn't as tricky as it might sound. All we do is wait for a crowd of people coming by that will cover us from view. There! You see them?" She gestured towards to a large group of oncoming tourists. "When they pass behind us, I want you to start walking as fast as you can right in between the platforms."
I was still shaking as it dawned on me that I would really be going to. . .to Hogwarts. "Right into the WALL!" I blurted. Hermione was taken aback at the sudden loud outburst.
"Well…yes. If you're really nervous, just do it at a bit of a run," she advised.
I objected immediately, already imagining a smarting head after running head-on into a brick wall. "Are you joking? I'll crash!" Hermione sighed, slightly exasperated.
"If you want to progress in the wizarding world, you're going to have to get used to some things that are going to cause your every being to scream out in rejection. Running straight into a brick wall is the least of it. You're going to have to trust me!" Hermione said, sounding irritated.
"But—" I bit my tongue. I'm going to have to get used to this, and the earlier the better. I trust Hermione, and I'm going to have to learn to believe whatever she tells me. I can do this! "All right. I'll do it," I said, my voice sounding so doubtful that I wouldn't have been able to convince the wall itself that I was about to run as fast as I was able right into it. Hermione smiled.
"Don't worry about it, you're going to be just fine." She let go of my hand suddenly and pointed to the quickly approaching group of tourists. "Ready?" she asked, not nervous at all, "I'll count to three and then we'll go for it! All right. One, two, THREE! GO!"
My legs took off before I realized what I was doing—fast. Too fast! The wall was approaching much more quickly than I would have liked; it became a red blur as my eyes began to water from wind, fear, and a storm of built-up emotions all trying to get out at once. I squinted my eyes shut, preparing for a terrible crash. Hermione's hand tightened in mine. I screwed my face up, wondering whether train stations kept first aid kits or not, and if there would be a medically able person to nurse the wounds the rough bricks would inflict on my poor, wind-chafed skin. I saw headlines flash in my mind of "The Girl Who Died." I'd never imagined myself murdered, especially not by a brick wall. I wondered just how stupid I was to be doing this— the buzz of the crowd of tourists behind me filled my ears. I tensed up and held my breath. It was here! My eyes throbbed from being squeezed so tightly. I felt it! I felt the bricks—-! I felt the bricks pass…through my skin. My eyelids shot back up. Hermione was slowing down now, we were——where were we? I turned my head back and saw the horrible brick wall I had so feared seconds ago…behind me. The noisy crowd was gone. I stopped so suddenly that my rolling suitcase kept going without me. Hermione turned around and shot me a questioning glance. She stopped and smiled again. "I forgot for a second that you've never done this before! So, what do you think of the Hogwarts Express?"
I gaped. I gasped. As I brought my eyes back into focus, I realized I was staring at a magnificent bright red train, Hogwarts Express painted in gold lettering across the side. About 30 feet away, children from what I guessed to be ages 10 to 18 or 19 were piling on. My mouth fell open, literally. Hermione started giggling, not unkindly. "Wow, I've seen quite a few Muggle-born first timers, but I can't say I've seen a reaction like this before," she laughed. I realized that many of the students passing me by were staring at me skeptically. My cheeks burned scarlet with humiliation. Some of the students snickered, others murmured to their friends, all the while keeping their eyes on me. I looked down and stood next to Hermione. "It's all right, don't worry," she murmured so only I could hear. "They'll forget about it the minute they take their eyes off you. Now then, let's see about getting actually on the train, how does that sound?"
I nodded mutely, still embarrassed beyond words. Bending over to pick up my fallen suitcase, I spotted some people approaching. Hoping they were no more than passers-by and trying to be inconspicuous, I took much longer than necessary to pick up the handle. Glancing upward, I saw that there were three students approaching. There were two boys and one girl; the boys looked to be Hermione's age, the girl only slightly younger. The taller boy and the girl both had flaming red hair and freckles—-they had to be brother and sister. The other boy had shaggy jet-black hair and glasses. On his forehead was some sort of mark that was too far away to make out; it was also partially obscured by his dark bangs. I suddenly realized that Hermione had stopped preparing to leave and, to my great dismay, I realized that the trio was coming our way. I felt a tight knot form in my stomach and my hands trembled with nervousness. I tried to fix my hair quickly with my fingers and straightened my back.
"'Ello Hermione, who's this?" the red-haired boy asked. The other girl and boy smiled at me kindly. I blushed and immediately lowered my eyes. I fixed my gaze on a pebble near my feet and stood rigid.
"Ron! Harry! Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, "I was hoping you'd get here soon! This is the girl I was telling you about that Professor Dumbledore assigned me to guide." Hermione turned to me expectantly. "Go on, introduce yourself!" I looked at her and paled. "It's all right, they don't bite!"
"Normally, that is," the red-haired boy remarked. I twitched.
"Ron, be nice! Can't you see how nervous she is already!" Hermione scolded.
"Blimey, you're grumpy, it was just a joke!" Ron retorted. Hermione sighed, clearly exasperated, then turned to me again. "Go on, then."
"Um…" I mumbled, my voice barely audible. "I-I'm—" I turned to Hermione for help. I was too nervous. I couldn't do it! "I'm too scared!" I squeaked, hoping only she would hear me. Harry, Ron, and Ginny laughed, not unkindly.
"Well, Too Scared, I must say it's quite a pleasure to meet you!" Harry said good-naturedly. "Unfortunately, we don't have as much time as I know I'd like to introduce ourselves, because I believe if we want to go to Hogwarts this year, we're going to have to get on the train right now!"
Hermione gasped and threw her wrist up underneath her nose, squinting at her watch in horror. "Oh my—!" She started, "You're right, Harry! This is terrible! I've never been so behind before. Come on, we have to go NOW!" Hermione grabbed my shoulder and ushered me towards the train door. She steered me inside and I got my first glimpse of a train. The long hallway had doors on either side. From an open sliding door I saw seats were inside the little rooms. Hermione whispered in my ear. "Let's look for an empty compartment so we can all sit together."
"C-compartment?" I stuttered. "What's that?"
"Oh! I'd forgotten you've never been on a train! The little rooms are called compartments." She explained.
"Oh." I replied, feeling stupid. "Um… I think I see one back there!" I started off towards it and collapsed into a seat as soon as I got there, audibly sighing in utter relief. The first part was over. I hoped this would be the hardest, because if it got any tougher, my nerves might have burst from stress and tension. Hermione sat down next to me and Harry and Ron sat across from us, Harry on my side and Ron across from Hermione.
"Ginny went to go sit with Dean," Harry mumbled, sounding slightly disappointed. "But," he said, brightening up, "We still have your friend, Hermione!" He turned to me and I felt my face flush slightly. His next words were directly to me. "So, now that we have time for proper introductions, let's get to know each other! I'll start. My name is—" Suddenly, the compartment door was thrown back explosively. In the doorway stood a boy who looked to be about Ginny's age.
"HARRY POTTER!" he yelled. It took all of my will to keep myself from clapping my hands to my ears.
"Who's Harry Potter?" I asked, confused. I realized he was talking about Hermione's friend Harry the minute I said it. Unfortunately, I didn't have a chance to correct myself.
"WHO—IS—HARRY—POTTER?" The boy boomed at me, his face inches from my own. His astonishment and anger were evident. I felt the compartment doors shake. His eyes went sickeningly wide. His jaw was hanging open in utter astonishment. Then his red face swayed slightly, and his eyes rolled back into his head. His knees began to give way, and he fell to the ground in a dead faint. At least, we all thought it had been a dead faint. Just as Hermione gasped and lunged over him, yanking her wand out on the way, the boy's eyes shot open and he was suddenly back on his feet again, as if he had risen from the dead. His faced was so deathly pale he really could have passed off as a zombie…
"WHO IS HARRY POTTER!" He screamed at my face, spraying me with smelly spit, and ran out of the compartment, sprinting up and down the halls. He wailed like a dying banshee at midnight. Ron and Hermione ran after him. I was dumbfounded and barely registering what was happening. He was running much faster than you would have guessed he ever could, judging by his size, up and down and up and down, causing such a racket that the windows rattled dangerously. Every single compartment door on the train opened; both very confused and very annoyed Hogwarts students shooting looks from the strange boy and back to those in my compartment. I immediately shrank back from the doorway, mortified. I supposed by now that knowing who Harry Potter was, was, well, a pretty big thing. It was as if I had just asked the boy what color the sky was today.
"WHO is Harry Potter!" He ranted. "Who IS Harry Potter?" He yelled, growing progressively louder with each exclamation. "Who is HARRY Potter!" He was screeching now in between each sentence. "WHO IS HARRY POTTER!"
Harry (by now I had figured out this was his name) brushed his fingertips across his bangs, revealing the jagged edge of his scar. "That's a good question," he muttered, "Who is Harry Potter?"