"Ministry of Magic" he said stepping into the green flames of the Floo.
After another torment of spinning, he fell out of the Floo into a room he had never seen before. People were popping out of fireplaces along one wall, and joining queues leading to strange pairs of doorways on the other side of the room. It was quite crowded.
"Sorry," he said as he crashed into the back of a portly wizard, nearly knocking the man's hat off.
The man grumbled and moved along the line.
A dozen bored looking people in Auror robes were lounging around the room in various poses. Most were talking amongst themselves, not paying the crowd any attention. There was one stationed next to a free standing doorway that stood in front of the one regular type Harry thought lead out of the room.
People would walk through the first doorway, stop next to the Auror, who would then move his wand over them (as if cleaning dust of their clothes), ask a few questions, give them a badge, and then they would leave through the second door. Occasionally the Auror would stop somebody and ask a question, and in one case, a person was taken by two other Aurors through a different side door.
Just before Harry got to the first door, a witch in the line next to him stepped through the first door and suddenly became a very different looking person. Where she had been a youngish looking woman with long black hair, suddenly she was quite a bit older, fatter, and had dirty brown hair.
The Auror standing near her didn't even blink, but waved his wand and continued with his routine. Harry strained trying to hear what the questions were, but suddenly the line moved and it was Harry's turn.
He stepped through the first door, half expecting his disguise to disappear, but nothing happened, so he walked forward to stand next to the Auror as he had seen the other people do. The Auror waved his wand over him, front and back, suddenly stopping over the pocket that contained the Sneakoscope.
"Sneakoscope?" the bored Auror asked.
"Yes," answered Harry, after briefly considering saying something very different, just to see if the man reacted.
The Auror grunted, and continued with what Harry recognised as a search.
"Name and purpose of visit?" he was asked in a clearly uninterested voice.
"Harry Potter, visiting Minister Scrimgeour."
The Aurora took a badge from his pocket and handed it to Harry.
"All visitors are required to register their wand at the security desk," he said, before motioning for Harry to step through the second door.
Harry, expecting some sort of recognition at his name, was a bit shocked to have been passed through without comment. He was now standing in the long, shiny wood panelled hall of the entrance to the Ministry of Magic, with its peacock blue roof flashing mysterious symbols, and golden gates at the far end. The fountain that had been damaged in Dumbledore's fight with Voldemort had not been completely repaired; the statue-less waterfall splashed merrily as people stopped to toss a coin or two into it.
People streamed up and down the hallway, some of the queuing to use the open Floos lining one wall.
Harry felt a momentary flash of panic as the events that took place last time rushed back to overwhelm him. He had to fight to keep from falling over as his memory played out scenes his would rather forget in excruciating detail.
"Are you alright, love?" asked an elderly witch, who had just come out of the rooms behind him. "You look a bit pale."
"I'm fine," Harry said automatically. The witch gave a knowing look and walked off towards the golden gates.
Harry took the badge, which had VISITOR in bright flashing letters at the top and Harry Potter – Visiting Minister of Magic, written in smaller print under it, and pinned it to his robes, as he walked to the gates. He felt his heart thumping in his chest as the made the long journey to the other end. Every step brought back more images of the night Sirius had died.
Here was where Dumbledore had cast the flame whip; there was where Voldemort cast an Avada Kedava - It was like walking through a nightmare.
Eventually he reached the security desk at the end of the hallway.
The same badly-shaven wizard in blue robes sat reading the paper, exactly as he had when Harry had first come through with Mr. Weasley on his way to the farce of a trial Cornelius Fudge had arranged.
"Step over here," the man said, putting down his paper. Once again Harry was subjected to a scan made with a long golden rod, and once again the man grumbled "Wand" and held out his hand. Harry handed over his wand and watched it get dropped into the one-dish scales to be registered.
"Eleven inches, phoenix-feather core, been in use six years. That correct?"
"Yes," answered Harry.
The guard tore off the narrow strip of parchment that came out of the machine, and handed Harry back his wand.
"Thank you," said Harry, desperately hoping his name on the flashing badge would go unnoticed. "Could you direct me to Percy Weasley's office, please?"
Luck was not with him however. After at first looking annoyed, the man finally read Harry's name.
"Harry Potter!" the man almost shouted, causing a few people nearby to turn and look. "My word! I met you a few years back, do you remember? You were coming through with Arthur Weasley, right before that thing with you-know-who happened!"
He took Harry's hand and started pumping it up and down vigorously.
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Mr Potter. Come to sort out the Ministry have you? About time I say! You look different though?"
A small crowd began to form around Harry getting louder with every passing second. Cursing, Harry quickly and discretely cancelled his disguise, it was useless now anyway, and he couldn't use it again if everybody saw him wearing it.
"Thank you," he said, trying to extract his hand for the other man's grip. "But could you please tell me how to get to Percy Weasley's office."
"I'll take you!" piped up a voice from the crowd. A tall woman pushed her way through to stand next to him. "Hello, Harry."
Harry's mind raced as he tried to remember where he had seen this girl before. She looked familiar, but not quite right, almost as if he had known her when she was a bit younger, maybe at Hogwarts?
"Penelope!" he said, as the memory surfaced. "Penelope Clearwater. Good to see you. I didn't know you worked in the Ministry," he said, taking her hand and giving it a friendly shake, surprisingly causing her face to flush.
She had been a Ravenclaw prefect and Percy's girlfriend during Harry's second year at Hogwarts. He had not said a dozen words to her, but she was the closest thing to a known face he could hope for.
"Please get me out of here," he whispered quietly, leaning in close so that only she could hear. "Quickly."
"Right," she said, her expression suddenly becoming business like. "Come on, move along," she said to the crowd, "Mr. Potter has important business with the Ministry just like the rest of you. No time top stand around gossiping."
She led Harry away from the crowd and deep into the Ministry offices, leaving a trail of whispering in their wake.
"Percy is not expecting you," she said as they walked.
"No. Wait. How do you know that?"
She gave a small nervous laugh. "I am Percy's personal assistant."
"The Junior Assistant to the Minister has his own personal assistant?"
"Yes," she said a bit stiffly. "He is doing very important work for the Minister."
"I imagine so," said Harry, thinking about Percy's previous important task, giving Scrimgeour a reason to visit the Burrow while Harry was there for Christmas so that he could try and convince Harry to become a 'poster boy' for the Ministry and its ineffective policies.
"I can squeeze in an appointment for you, seeing as you are a family friend, but you will have to be quick," she said.
"Actually, I am here to see the Minister. I figured the best way to see him without an appointment would be to ask Percy to arrange it."
Penelope looked a bit shocked at Harry's revelation.
"I am not sure I can …" she began.
"It's fine, Penelope. Just get me in to see Percy. That will do."
They soon arrived at a small reception desk fronting an office. Penelope stepped behind the desk and knocked quietly on the door.
Harry heard a muffled voice before Penelope opened the door and entered, closing it behind her. Harry could hear voices faintly through the closed door and for a second it sounded like an argument was going on.
A minute later she emerged from the office, looking slightly flushed, and Harry wondered if she had been arguing with Percy about seeing him.
"You can go right in," she said, holding the door open for Harry.
Harry entered a room that wasn't much bigger than a Hogwarts' broom closet. Three of the walls were lined with shelves crammed with rows of paper filled files. Percy sat behind a small desk piled high with paper, looking rather annoyed.
"Hello, Mr Potter," he said, not standing or shaking Harry's hand. "Penelope tells me you would like to see the Minister. I must tell you that he is a very busy man and probably won't have time to see you today. Can I make an appointment and get back to you?"
Harry was tempted to take the offer and leave immediately, but he knew if he did that, his next visit would be turned into a media circus, with the Ministry twisting the facts to make it appear he was there to offer support for the Minister.
Taking a deep breath he steeled himself and resisted the temptation of taking the easy way out. He was going to have to do this, even though he hated the very idea of it.
"Hello, Percy. How are you?" he asked.
His friendly greeting made no visible impression on the young man, except for a slight narrowing of his eyes.
"Please tell the Minister I am here and would like to talk with him. I can not say when I will be available again, so if it is not convenient now I will have to get back to him another day when I am available."
Percy looked ready to object, as expected, so Harry decided to drop the politeness and go onto the attack.
"Percy, do you really want to argue with me and then have to explain to the Minister why I left the building without talking to him? I imagine news of my visit will spread pretty quickly, especially once I leave without seeing him."
Harry considered the shocked look on Percy's face as he realised what Harry had just said was worth the trouble he had gone to so far.
Without another word, Percy stood up walked around the desk to open the door.
"Follow me," he said, as he walked out.
Harry gave Penelope a smile as he passed her. She looked a bit worried, but brightened when she saw Harry's grin and return a dazzling smile of her own.
Percy led Harry down another hallway to a much larger reception. A matronly witch dressed in dark, severe robes sat at another much larger reception desk.
"Mrs Branch, please ask the Minister if he is available for a meeting immediately," said Percy to the lady.
She looked over her small wire framed spectacles at Percy, giving him a penetrating glare, then pointedly looked down at an overly large appointment book.
"Whom shall I say wants to meet with him?" she asked polite, but firmly disapproving.
"Harry Potter," answered Percy.
As expected, her eyes flicked to Harry's face, then immediately to the scar on his forehead. Surprisingly, her tone and manner did not change.
"Please take a seat," she said, indicating several large lounge chairs to the side of her desk, before disappearing through a set of double doors on the other side of her desk.
Harry sat down nervously looking around the room. Percy sat staring at Harry.
"What?" Harry finally asked, getting tired of Percy's glare.
"Why are you here, Harry? I know you don't approve of the Ministry and won't give it your support, so why are you here?"
Harry laughed.
"Percy, after what happened when you first started working here, along with what happened two years ago, are you really certain you know anything?"
Percy blanched, but remained silent. His failure to notice his first boss was under the imperious curse had been a massive personal failure. His support of Minister Fudge's official declaration that Voldemort had not returned, another one. Harry had just reminded him of how incredibly wrong he had been at least twice in the last few years.
Rufus Scrimgeour, Minister of Magic limped out of the set of double doors and approached Harry. He was smiling, but Harry thought it looked rather forced.
"Harry," he said, grasping Harry's hand like a long lost friend.
"Come in, come in. Percy, you may go now."
"Actually, Minister," interrupted Harry. "Could Percy please be present for this meeting?"
Scrimgeour looked a bit startled, but quickly agreed.
A few minutes later the three of them were seated in soft lounge chairs around a large coffee table drinking tea. The friendly public face Scrimgeour had greeted him with was gone, but he was still less than hostile.
"So, what cane I do for you, Harry? Have you come to offer your assistance? I must say I am surprised, after our recent conversation I was certain you had made up your mind."
Harry took a deep breath.
"Minister, I still think the Ministry is making a mess of things-"
Percy gave a sharp intake of breath and the smile dropped from Scrimgeour's face.
"But I have seen how the people are affected," he continued. "They are scared and close to panicking."
"I want to help, but I don't like much of what the Ministry is doing, so here is what I suggest-"
Percy leapt to his feet.
"I knew it. You can't come in here and dictate policy to the Minister of Magic. Just who do you think you are?"
Harry sat back in his chair and regarded Percy coldly.
"I am Harry Potter, Percy, and it is about time you took a really good look around you and saw what is going on. Nobody trusts the Ministry any more, because of all the blunders it has been making. You have half trained Aurors running around arresting people for littering while Death Eaters are rampaging throughout the country side."
"Your guards at the entrance from the public Floo network are so observant that they didn't even notice I was wearing a disguise, and then they didn't even read my name."
"The articles you are putting in the paper are either trying to deny that anything is wrong, playing down reports of attacks, or are inflaming the public with notices about rumours of infer."
"Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard who has ever lived, was murdered in Hogwarts, supposedly the safest place in the world, and what does the Ministry do? It allows Delores Umbridge to attend his funeral.
"The Ministry is a joke, Percy, admit it."
His calm delivery and scathing comments shock both men. Percy face had gone red in the best imitation of Vernon Dursley Harry had ever seen, and he looked ready to start shouting, but Scrimgeour cut him off.
"That may be the case Harry, although I personally don't agree with you," he said, much more calmly than Harry expected. "We have our best people working on it and this is what they have come up with. Hire more Aurors and get them out on the streets as fast as possible, reassure the public that everything is under control. There is nothing else to do."
Harry took a long sip of his tea to calm his nerves.
"Minister, I don't think you do have your best people working on it."
Percy had taken his seat again as the Minister spoke, but looked ready to pounce on Harry. "Of course we do!" he snapped.
"No, Percy, I think you have a load of Fudge's old cronies, and a bunch of pureblood racists that, in their hearts at least, support Voldemort."
Harry was gratified to see both men flinch at his use of the name.
"I think most of your policies are repeats of the mistakes the Ministry made during the last war."
"And I suppose you could do better?' asked Percy, the sarcasm dripping from his words like venom from a basilisks fangs.
Harry shook his head.
"No, Percy. I don't know if I could do any better, but I can tell you one thing, I doubt that I could do much worse."
Scrimgeour looked slightly angry, but also had a thoughtful look on his face.
"So, what is it you want then, Harry?"
"Minister, while I am not willing to openly support you or your current policies, I could be persuaded to let you use my image."
"Your image, you mean as in pictures and such?"
"No, I mean as in Polyjuice."
A stunned silence greeted Harry's words.
"In exchange for a couple of promises from you, and a few er, concessions, I would be willing to allow a person, Polyjuiced as me, to come into these offices twice a week and attend 'secret' meetings, thus giving the public the impression that you have my support or at least my assistance."
"I will not allow this person to have any press conferences, or for you to say directly that you have my full confidences, but I he may be seen to regularly attend meetings with you and your staff."
Percy was bristling again, but Scrimgeour was still thoughtful.
"What promises?"
Harry released the breath he had not realised he was holding. If Scrimgeour was willing to still listen to him, it meant he had a chance. His greatest fear was to have been tossed out of the office before now; that's what Fudge would have done.
"You are going to have to promise me to release Stan Shunpike and any other people you have falsely arrested. From now on, I want you to promise that only people who have real evidence against them will be arrested, and that you will make sure each and everyone gets a timely and proper trial, with Veritaserum if possible."
Scrimgeour nodded.
"What else?"
"You have to make an effort to clean up the Ministry. Everybody knows, or believes that it is full of Death Eaters. I know that idiot Fudge would have packed the ranks with cash lined pure bloods rather than people who could do their jobs."
"That is outrageous!" protested Percy. "You are just holding a grudge."
"You are right, Percy," Harry snapped, "I am holding a grudge, and I want every person involved in covering up Voldemort's return, and everybody who helped run Albus Dumbledore's name into the mud, dismissed or suspended pending an enquiry into their actions. If they are found to have knowingly been involved in a conspiracy, they should be arrested and charged."
"Now is definitely not the time to be disrupting the Ministry, the results will be chaos!" argued Percy.
"When are you going to do it, Percy?" asked Harry, his voice getting louder as his anger started to get the better of him. "After Voldemort is defeated? Guess what? We are loosing the war! Voldemort is getting stronger, mainly due to incompetence of the Ministry. If you don't take the time to fix the problem now, you never will."
Percy's face had moved through the 'Vernon spectrum' and reached the purple that signal an imminent physical attack, but Scrimgeour was sitting quietly, apparently thinking. "Minster, you can't seriously be listening to this lunatic!"
The Minister practically ignored him.
"Harry," he said, after a moment. "You are not the first person to say this to me, and, until recently, I must admit I shared Percy's opinion."
"What happened?"
"Dumbledore died. Since then, I have been giving it a lot of thought. I couldn't believe that you still refused to help us out; it didn't match any of the various reports I had about you."
Scrimgeour gave a rueful laugh. "Most of them said you were an attention seeking glory hound that would leap at the chance of more fame. I was told Dumbledore had a tight leash on you; that you would never say anything that he didn't script, and I am ashamed to admit that I believed every word of it, until our conversation a few hours ago."
Harry felt his face go red at these accusations, but he held his temper in check, unlike Percy who now seemed to be squirming, as if in embarrassment. Both of them knew who was responsible for those reports.
"So you must imagine how surprised I am to see you sitting here in front of me, saying out loud things that others have been whispering in dark corners."
Scrimgeour leaned forward and stared into Harry's face intently.
"Tell me one thing, Harry, and tell me the truth. Are you here at the bidding of anybody else, or have you come here on your own?"
Harry looked the formidable minister straight in the eye.
"Minister, I came here after standing in a line at Gringotts for an hour watching how scared people were. Everything I am saying is my own idea, or the ideas of my two closest friends."
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed Percy's head jerk up sharply.
"Nobody has sent me, and nobody has me on a tight leash. I am still Dumbledore's man, but you have to realise that Albus Dumbledore was the most noble and worthy wizard of his time."
The Minister nodded again, weighing Harry's words in his mind. Percy just sat, with an almost dumbfounded look on his face.
"You mentioned concessions?"
"There are things I need to do, possibly dangerous things. I have to be able to defend myself without worrying that somebody is going to show up and snap my wand. All of us need to, especially children."
"You want an exemption from the underage magic law? Don't you turn of age soon?"
"I want the law scrapped, at least temporarily. Everybody who can hold a wand has to be ready to defend themselves, not just me. They need to be able to practice, and not just when they are in school."
Percy had to interrupt again.
"That's highly dangerous. Children are not responsible enough to be allowed to do magic unsupervised, there will be untold accidents. It is not their job to defend themselves, it is the Ministry's job."
"And the Ministry is failing! Children need to be allowed to practice shield, stupefy and disillusionment charms. How can you be worried about accidents when Death Eaters are running amok killing them because they don't know how to defend themselves? Half the people in this building can't do a decent shield spell," Harry growled, finally allowing his rage to show.
"If they think they can fight they are much more likely to try and take on the Death Eaters themselves and get hurt. I am sure you of all people understand that," snarled Percy.
Harry fumed at the insinuation that he and his friends had gone to the Ministry to rescue Sirius because they were overconfident.
"A group of us who knew a bit about fighting managed to aid in the capture of more Death Eaters in one night than the whole Ministry has caught in the year since then," he said with a forced calm. "But the real problem is that nobody is standing up to these animals because they are all terrified. You have to put some confidence back into people, all people, not just the voting ones, and you have to do it with real action and advice, not by playing down the danger and telling them the Ministry is taking care of it. Think of the manpower you will free up from watching over the underage magic use wards-"
"YOU JUST WANT TO..." yelled Percy.
"ENOUGH!" shouted the Minister, banging his cup down on the table.
"Harry, I am considering your offer, but I am worried just how much value we are going to be able to get from you if you are unwilling to attend any press conferences or make any statements."
"What do you suggest, Minister?"
"How would you feel about some press releases, that we both approve?"
"So long as they are about policies that I agree with, I am willing to allow that, although I may be a bit hard to find."
"Two days a week is not enough, people could say you are just visiting. I want your doppelganger here at least five days a week and for more than just one hour or two. I'll set him up in an office where he can work on something that nobody knows about. It will look like he is doing Department of Mysteries work."
Harry nodded; he had been expecting this and had counted on it.
"No problem, but he is going to have to return to Privet Drive when he is not here, until my seventeenth birthday, which is in a couple of weeks, and must have an Auror guard with him at all times that he is not there."
"The press is going to be stopping him outside everyday and asking questions, I want him to be allowed to occasionally give more than just a 'no comment'," said Scrimgeour.
Harry didn't like this, but he wasn't going to get it all his own way.
"Okay, but only if the person is reflecting my own feelings on the question. I am sure there will be many areas where we both agree."
Scrimgeour nodded and went quite again considering the bargain they were making. So far, it had gone much better than Harry had hoped.
"You realise you are lying to the public," Percy said. "You are intentionally misleading them, just like you accuse the Ministry of doing."
Harry had already wrestled with this.
"No, Percy. I feel allowing somebody to take my place and voice my views is not lying to the public. I will be supporting the Ministry, if it is conducting business in a manner I agree with."
"Semantics," the red headed man shot back. "You are going to let them think that you are sitting in an office here everyday working to bring down you-know-who, when you will really be off hiding somewhere."
The unexpected barb hurt Harry.
"I will not be hiding," he said, earning an excited look from Scrimgeour. "But I will be out of sight."
"Is that what you really want out of it?" the Minister asked. "A cover?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I really do want to help people, but it is, convenient."
Percy made a derisive noise.
"So you want somebody else to stick their neck out and pretend to be you?"
Harry was really getting angry again, but he didn't bother to respond. He just looked at the Minister.
"Do we have a deal?"
The Minister quietly sipped his tea and watched Harry over the brim of his cup.
"We do," he said. "But let's work out a few more details. Weasley, get a quill and take some notes, and cancel the rest of my appointments today."
Two hours later, Harry felt like he had been put through the wringer. His back hurt, despite the comfort of the chairs, he was bloated from numerous cups of tea, and his head was pounding from the prolonged mental wrangling.
Scrimgeour may have once been an Auror, but he definitely had a politicians mind and thoroughly quizzed Harry about his ideas and how they were going to portray his support for the Minister. There had been a few items they could not see eye to eye on, but the Minister accepted that, and Harry was forced to do the same in return, agreeing to disagree.
Harry was actually quite pleased with the agreement they reached and was suitably proud of the way he had handled himself, although only time would tell if he was making one of the biggest mistakes of his life.
"The last thing to discuss is who should know about this," the Minister said. "Obviously, the fewer the better, but I imagine you will have few people you want to keep in the loop, and there is the matter of the person who will be taking your spot. I think we should keep it to a single person, probably an Auror."
Harry nodded tiredly.
"I have an idea, but you may not like it. The person is not an Auror, but quite disciplined. He follows rules to the letter and can be countered on to follow orders unwaveringly."
"He also has the advantage of already knowing about the deal."
"Who?" asked the Minister curiously.
Harry looked directly at Percy.
Shocked surprise registered on Percy's face, and then he gulped loudly in the quiet office as full realisation struck him.
Revenge can be sweet, thought Harry to himself.
Harry ran as fast as he could without loosing his invisibility cloak towards the Leaky Cauldron. He didn't know his way around London, and he was unsure how long it would take for a Muggle taxi to get him to the station, or even how to call for a taxi when it came down to it. He felt one hour should have been more than enough, but better safe than sorry!
Entering the almost empty pub, Harry suddenly had a thought. What if he could Floo to somewhere closer and walk the distance?
Slipping his cloak off, he moved over to the bar where Tom the barkeeper was performing his seemingly endless task of drying glasses with a cloth.
"Excuse me," Harry said, careful to avoid looking Tom directly in the eyes in case his disguise failed him. "Could you please tell me if I can Floo to Kings Cross station? I am not from around here," he added, hoping to sound convincing.
"Sure you can lad, there is a brand new connection just set up this year, for er, security reasons," answered Tom cheerfully. "Just say 'Kings Cross Station' and you'll pop out right on platform nine and three quarters."
"Now," he said, looking rather pointedly at Harry, "how about a drink?"
Harry bought a Butterbeer and took a seat in a far corner of the room, where he could watch people coming in and going out.
As the public portal into the wizarding world from Muggle London, and the main Floo connection point, the Leaky Cauldron still had quite a few people pass through it in an almost constant stream of traffic.
Once upon a time, barely two years ago, many would stop for a drink and a chat, but with the threat of Death Eater attacks hanging over everybody's head, most people just passed through as quickly as they could.
Harry watched a man shrink a case of Butterbeer he had just bought, when another inspiration struck.
Racing back into Diagon Alley, Harry ran to a food market and started loading a trolley full of canned food he had noticed earlier. He didn't pay too much attention to what he was buying and just loaded as many different tins as could, although the pickled Ostrich did make him do a double take.
When he had a full load, he almost ran to the counter, only pausing to grab some bags of fruit and a few loaves of bread, and then urged the sales clerk to get him through as quickly as she could.
"I am running very late!" he told her, while helping to bag his items.
"And very hungry too, by the looks of it," she laughed, holding up the canned Ostrich.
She kindly shrank the loaded bags for him and he wasted no time getting back to the Leaky Cauldron.
"Tom, can I have four cases of Butterbeer shrunk down and ready to go please?" he breathlessly asked the startled barman.
Tom happily obliged, and Harry forced the cases into his backpack.
"Careful lad," warned Tom watching him trying to press the last case in. "If you tear the bag, the charm might break and everything will come flying out!"
Harry gave up on the last case and tossed it back to Tom. "Have one on me!" he laughed, racing for the Floo.
Seconds later, Harry fell face first onto the grey concrete floor of platform nine and three quarters.
"I really need to practice that," he grumbled to himself, as he got to his feet.
In an empty public toilet he quickly removed the make-up from his scar and changed his hair back to its normal colour. Another quick flick of his wand and his glasses returned to their comfortable, if unstylish, size and weight.
He stripped his robes off and was about to enlarge his trunk to stuff them and his backpack in, when he heard the distinctive whistle of the Hogwarts express.
Pulling the invisibility cloak back over himself, Harry exited the toilet and made his way to a dark corner of the platform, taking care to avoid bumping into any of the nervous people waiting for the train.
Watching the familiar red steam engine grind to a stop and students start to pour out of the doors to greet their parents, Harry waited patiently for a chance to expand his trunk and join the crowd heading for the exit to Muggle London.
As he was about to drop his cloak, a hand suddenly fastened around his mouth, a wand pressed into his neck, and a rough, gravelling voice whispered into his ear.
"Who's this I have here now? Looks a bit like Mr Potter, but Harry Potter should be getting off that train like all the other students and not be hiding away in a corner under an invisibility cloak waiting to join the crowd, shouldn't he?"
The hand clamped firmly over his mouth muffled Harry's reply.