Author's Note: Just a quick reminder that there is now new content at the end of chapter five.
The remaining three weeks of Harry's summer was spent back on Abhorsen's Ait with the lion's share of his time occupied with he and his grandad doing one thing or another together.
On their very first evening back Harry got a taste of what his cousin, Dudley, had gone through the day he had returned from London with his new school uniform. Unlike Aunt Petunia, Grandad had been mercifully dry-eyed as he snapped photographs of Harry standing in full uniform in front of the fireplace in his study, but there had been a proud gleam in his eyes nevertheless.
"Third generation in a row to attend Hogwarts," he remarked with a mystified shake of the head. "You mother loved it there, but my parents only sent me to Hogwarts because it wasn't safe for anyone who knew about the Relics of Death to attend Grindelwald's old alma mater…. Of course, with Karkaroff as Headmaster now – banning Muggle-borns and the like – there was no way I could let you attend either."
"You mean Durmstrang, right? Didn't Great Grand-Uncle Oleander go there?" Harry asked.
"Mhm," Grandad hummed in agreement. "My mum, as well. And the way she told it Uncle Oleander was the reason Ol' Gellert Grindelwald was expelled, too."
"What happened?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
For a moment, Grandad stared into the middle distance, gathering his thoughts, then finally he said, "It's a long story, but it's one you need to know."
"You need to understand that Grindelwald was obsessed with the Deathly Hallows – better known to our family as the Relics of Death," he explained. "When he learned that Oleander was Abhorsen-in-Waiting Grindelwald immediately set about trying to gain his confidence in the hopes that Oleander could lead him to the Relics – which was of course impossible since the Relics had been stolen from our family almost seven hundred years ago at that point. Rumors of the location of the Cloak of Invisibility and Resurrection Stone have always been scant at best…. Lachesis's Rod has been used to carve a bloody swath through history after it was stolen, but it changes hands too quickly among those who don't carry the Blood that it too is almost impossible to track – especially if its current wielder is ignorant of what they possess or just crafty enough to keep their mouth shut about their wand's unique properties….
"None of this mattered to Grindelwald though," Grandad stressed, "He wanted the Relics and even at sixteen he was willing to do anything to use my uncle to obtain the power he craved…."
All this talk of how the Living could be as much a danger to them as the Dead gave rise to several extra hours of them training together in the salle after that.
Grandad running him through not only his mock battles with the training dummy, but also a refresher on the different grips to use with his new dagger – a forward grip for when more finesse and a longer reach were needed and a reverse grip for when it was better to use brute force – but also best places on a living body to use it.
"If you can avoid it never stab directly at the heart, because unless the blade is thin enough and your aim is sure – the blade will go skittering off of the ribs. Therefore, it's best to go in under the ribs and up through the diaphragm to pierce the heart," he explained, demonstrating the maneuver, then motioning for Harry to try it as well.
"Oh and try your best not to use any of this on the Hogwarts Castle ghosts," his grandad added, almost as an afterthought. "The spells on your blade do mean that it can be used on the Dead who lack a physical form, but the majority of the Hogwarts ghosts had their earthly remains interred in the castle's crypt so that their spirits could be woven into the castle's wards. Even the few who aren't only feed on the ambient magic of the nexus Hogwarts sits upon, so none of them go looking for Life to feed upon."
The pair of them also worked together on Harry's spellcasting, too.
"All evocation – which is your most basic sort of flashy magic – is a three-step process," Grandad explained. "It involves first gathering energy, then shaping it with your thoughts and feelings – a process that is made easier with words and sigils of power to use as a focus – and then, finally, you release the energy in the intended direction."
The majority of the time, however, he only ran Harry through his paces by having him practice the General Counter Spell, which would counteract most low-level Charms, and the Reversal Spell for undoing simple Transfigurations.
"It's always good to know how to undo things when starting out," he said simply. "Other things will come later, but for now a firm foundation is best." He did, however, concluded the lesson by teaching him a rather mundane, but extremely useful Ink Blotting Spell that would come in very handy whilst doing homework.
At the moment, however, Harry tended to put the spell to use more whenever he finished writing one of his letters to Luna. The pair of them had taken to writing each other at least twice a week with Luna's letters arriving at first in the talons of her grandfather's dark-eyed brown owl, then later – once she had returned home to Ottery St. Catchpole – in the talons of the family owl, Herne, who possessed a set of particularly prominent ear tufts.
Harry didn't discuss his training with her, but his summer was hardly all work and no play, so he still had plenty of things to write to her about. While she wrote about going fishing for plimpies in the Otter River and her latest craft project, Harry wrote about the latest spell he'd read about and of flying hither and yon on his Scarlet Falcon. Explaining that his only restrictions, as always, were that he didn't fly above the tops of the trees and that he please try to refrain from giving his grandad a heart attack while practicing his dives, thank you very much.
The morning of September the first dawned early for the inhabitants of Abhorsen's Ait. Harry woke at five o'clock and was far too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and dressed in the Muggle-ish parts of his new uniform: black slacks, a white shirt with a grey jumper over top it and a black tie knotted neatly at his throat. He figured he could pull on his long black robes and don his pointed hat once he was on the train. He'd even managed to marginally tame his hair by coating his comb with a healthy helping of Sleekeazy's, which left it curling about his ears in gentle waves rather than sticking up in every direction in a flyaway mess.
His new do left Hedwig staring at his head in a bemused fashion when he shut the snowy owl into her travel cage, but he paid her no mind as he set about double checking his Hogwarts list to make sure that he had everything he'd need packed into his trunk. He had only finished adding a few of his non-magical novels and a deck of Exploding Snap cards to his trunk when Pell-Mell popped in to let him know that breakfast was ready.
They all dined on eggy bread with a side of streaky bacon and grilled tomatoes before leaving Abhorsen's Ait to begin the arduous journey to King's Cross. It began with them crossing the river into Midsomer Mallow where they caught a cab to the train station in Causton, then from there it was an hour-long ride into London. All the while they attracted curious looks from their fellow commuters for the raven perched upon Grandad's shoulder and the snowy owl dozing in her cage upon Harry's lap.
They finally reached King's Cross at half past ten. And as they were weaving their way through the crowded station, Harry couldn't help noticing the plastic platform numbers, and was struck by the sudden realization that he had never actually asked just how they were to get to the platform that his ticket said was where the school train would leave from.
"Er – Grandad how exactly are we supposed to get onto the platform," he asked as they came to a stop in front of the barrier that separated platforms nine and ten with platform nine and three-quarter clearly being nowhere in sight. He wondered briefly if you were supposed to tap one of the bricks on the barrier like you had to do to get into Diagon Alley but dismissed this at once. Summoning an archway in the middle of a busy muggle train station hardly seemed like a good way to keep the wizarding world a secret.
"Don't worry, Harry. It's actually quite simple," Grandad said gently. "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between the platforms. There is a gateway there that's covered by an illusion to keep the muggles out that leads straight to platform nine and three-quarters."
Harry shot his grandad a look of disbelief, but the older wizard just chuckled good naturedly. A bit of mischief glinting in his green eyes as he added, "Don't believe me? How about you watch them, and you'll see for yourself."
'Them' turned out to be a family of six, each with the same flaming red hair, that had just come bustling up to the barrier through the crowded station.
"It's the same every year. Packed with Muggles, of course. C'mon…," grumbled the plump, matronly looking woman as she led her brood of five (four boys and a single girl) up to the barrier. Each of her boys were pushing a trolley with a heavy trunk atop it – one even had a screech owl in a travel cage balanced atop his.
"All right, Percy, you go first," urged the woman as she motioned for what looked like the oldest of the boys – the one with the owl – to approach the barrier.
Harry watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it, as the boy strode towards the barrier, then – without any warning – he seemed to vanish into thin air the second before he would have collided with it.
"Fred, you next," barked the plump woman, motioning to one member of a pair of identical twins that stood beside her.
"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy pulling a face.
"Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother," the boy's twin chimed in. "Can't you tell I'm Fred?"
"Sorry, George, dear," the woman murmured contritely only for the pair of them to share identical grins of pure mischief.
"I'm only joking. I am Fred," the first boy exclaimed, and then the pair of them were off like a shot. Loping forward towards the barrier, then disappearing out of sight.
The red-haired woman cast her eyes heavenward, then turned her attention to her final son.
"Now, Ron," she said. "Remember all you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on now, Ginny and I will be right behind you."
Looking a bit green beneath his freckles the final boy broke into a sprint with his trolley and then he too was out of sight and through the barrier. He was followed a moment later by his mum and little sister who also disappeared through the barrier; though they did it at a bit of a light jog.
"Our turn," said Grandad bracingly, then, running side by side, they began to push Harry's trolley forward with gathering speed.
As they reached the barrier, Harry winced and closed his eyes, but no collision came. Instead he felt a cool sensation as though he had passed through a thin curtain of mist which prompted him to open his eyes.
There before him was a scarlet steam engine waiting next to a platform that was packed with people. A sign overhead it said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Harry glanced behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Tree-Quarters on it.
"I wonder if Luna's already here?" Harry wondered as smoke from the engine drifted across the crowd making everything seem hazy and indistinct.
"Don't worry. We'll find her," said Grandad reassuringly as they pushed their way into the chattering crowd and past the red-haired family.
"But why can't I go," the daughter of the red-haired woman was now whinging to her mother, who said quite patiently, "Because you're not old enough, dear."
As they made their way through the crowd they had to dodge cats of every color, who were twining their way about the legs of their humans. Meanwhile, owls of a variety of species were hooting to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks as they were loaded onto the train.
The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the windows to talk to their families, some fighting over seats, but none of them Luna.
"Let's try the other end of the train," Grandad suggested, and they set off down the platform. As they went they passed a variety of people seemed to immerge suddenly from within the train's vapor.
They passed a round-faced boy who saying quite forlornly, "Gran, I've lost my toad again."
Only to hear the old woman sigh, "Oh, Neville."
"The Dowager Lady Longbottom and her grandson," Grandad informed Harry once they were out of earshot.
Then they passed a boy with dreadlocks who was surrounded by a small crowd.
"Give us a look, Lee," one of them urged. "Go on."
The boy, Lee, did as prompted and the people surrounding him began to shriek and yell as something inside the box he was holding poked out a long, hairy leg.
"I didn't think tarantulas were allowed," Harry mused to himself as they pressed on through the crowd until finally – near the end of the train – they found her.
"Hey, Luna," Harry called, and Luna, who was already wearing her new uniform – robes and all – beamed at him.
"Hello, Harry, I almost didn't recognize you on account of the hair," she greeted cheerfully, then in a murmur so as not to be over heard, she added, "Hello, Lord Abhorsen."
"Miss Luna," Grandad returned genially.
"The Weasley twins – Fred and George – were helping me with my trunk when I spotted you," Luna informed them. "I can show you which compartment I'm in … that is, if you want to share…?"
"Of course," Harry agreed quickly. "Would you mind carrying Hedwig while Grandad and I get my trunk?"
Luna nodded, plucked Hedwig's cage from atop Harry's trunk, earning her a hoot of greeting from the owl, and set off down the corridor. Meanwhile, Harry and his grandad set about heaving Harry's trunk aboard the train and carrying it towards the blonde's compartment.
Inside the compartment Harry spotted the red-haired twins from earlier heaving a trunk quite similar to Harry's own into the luggage rack.
"I didn't know you had an owl, Luna," said one of the twins as the blonde girl set Hedwig's cage onto an empty seat.
"Oh, I don't," Luna said dreamily. "Hedwig is Harry's owl."
"Harry?" asked the other twin, looking around. "Harry who?"
"Erm, that would be me," said Harry giving them an awkward little smile as he and his grandad finished shifting the trunk into the compartment.
The twins both twisted around to give him a once over and Harry could see the exact moment when the second twin spotted the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead from where it peeked through his tidy fringe.
"What's that?" he said, pointing at the scar.
"What's what?" asked the other twin, but then he saw it too and goggled. "Blimey, are you –?"
"He is," said the twin who'd originally spotted his scar. "Aren't you?" he added quickly to Harry.
"Um, yes," said Harry, knowing it would do him no good to deny it.
"Wow," chorused the twins as they gawked at him.
Harry could feel the warmth of a blush staining his cheeks as the moment was not improved in the least by Fea's croaking cackle of laugher at his expense.
"Hang on," said the second twin, his brown eyes flicking from Harry to Luna and back again. "How does Harry Potter know our Luna?"
"We met while I was staying with Grandfather over the summer," said Luna as she claimed a seat by the window.
"And you didn't tell, Gin-Gin?" crowed the first twin, his face aglow with wicked mirth.
"No," said Luna simply. "Ginny would have never forgiven me for meeting Harry first." She turned her head and her pale grey eyes met Harry's green. "She's fancied you for years after all," she added, and Harry felt his face burn.
To Harry's immense relief the voice of the twins' mother came drifting in through the train's open door.
"Fred? George?" she called. "Are you there!"
"Coming, Mum," they chorused, then with one last look at Harry, they disappeared down the train corridor.
"Such a lively pair," Grandad chuckled as he finished securing Harry's trunk in the luggage rack.
Harry hummed in agreement as he sat down opposite Luna, so that he could watch the red-haired family on the platform. Their words drifting in easily through the open window.
Their mother had just taken out a handkerchief and was speaking to her youngest son.
"Ron," she fretted. "You've got something on your nose."
The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his long nose with her handkerchief.
"Mum – geroff," he cried, attempting to wriggle free.
"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins.
"Shut up," Ron groused.
"Where's Percy," said their mother.
"He's coming now," said the other twin and the oldest of the red-haired boys came striding into sight.
Like Luna, the older boy had already pulled on a set of billowing black Hogwarts robes. Unlike her, however, this boy had a shiny red-and-gold badge pinned over his heart with the letter P on it.
"Can't stay long, Mother," said the robed boy. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves –"
"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."
"Hang on, I think I do remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Maybe, once –"
"Or twice –"
"A minute –"
"All summer –"
"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect.
"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" asked one of the twins and Harry noticed that the boy's robes did seem to be both newer and in better condition than the rest of his uniform even though all of it seemed to have been smartly pressed.
"Because he's a prefect," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term – send me an owl when you get there."
She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins.
"Now, you two," she went on sternly, "this year, you had best behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've – you've blown up a toilet or –"
"Blown up a toilet?" questioned one of the twins bemusedly. "We've never blown up a toilet."
"Great idea though, thanks, Mum," chimed the other twin.
"It's not funny," she scolded, then no less firmly added, "And be sure to look after Ron."
"Don't worry, Ickle Ronniekins is safe with us," the twins said in stereo.
"Shut up," Ron grumbled again. He was almost at tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had been rubbing it.
"Hey, Mum, you know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station," one of the twins asked suddenly. "George and I just met him on the train and you'll never guess who he is."
"Who," asked their mother.
"Harry Potter!" the boy, Fred, exclaimed.
Suddenly the sound of a girlish squeal could be heard just outside the compartment window.
"Oh, Mummy," cried the little red-haired girl. "Can I go on the train and see him, Mum, oh please…."
"You've already seen him, Ginny," the girl's mother scolded her. "Not to mention the poor boy isn't something you can go and goggle at like he's a zoo exabit." She returned her attention to her son and asked, "Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"
"George and I asked him when we saw his scar," said Fred. "It's really there – like lightning."
"The poor dear," she said, and Harry felt the sudden urge to slam the window close so that he wouldn't have to hear anymore of her pitying tone. "I do wonder who that was that he was with then…," she added ponderously. "I didn't think he had any wizarding family left…."
"Never mind that," burst Fred. "Do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"
Their mother suddenly became very stern.
"I forbid you from asking him that, Fred," she said coolly. "No, don't you dare," she added, when it looked as though he were going to protest. "As though he needs reminding of that on his first day of school."
"All right, all right, keep your hair on," Fred muttered contritely.
Inside the compartment Luna leaned towards Harry and said quite seriously, "Mrs. Weasley would send them a howler if they bothered you too much at school. I'm sure of it."
"A what," asked Harry.
"A screaming letter," Grandad explained as he checked the time on his pocket watch. "I've always found them a bit distasteful, but they can certainly be used to get your point across on occasion… They explode of left unopened for too long."
Yikes, Harry thought a he climbed to his feet. Judging by the look on his grandad's face it was almost time for the train to leave.
As the older wizard pulled Harry into a tight hug he found himself struck by a sudden wave of nerves. He and his grandad had been away from each other for long stretches of time in the past, but nothing like this.
"You'll write to me, won't you?" he asked earnestly, fingers curling deep in the fabric of the grey greatcoat.
"Every day, if you want me to," Grandad promised.
"Maybe not every day," Harry hedged, he didn't want his new classmates to think he was a baby or anything. "But at least twice a month…?"
"If that's what you want," Grandad readily agreed. "Your grandmother and I wrote to your mum at least twice week during her first year."
"Ran me completely ragged," Fea grouched, startling a laugh out of Harry.
A whistle sounded and Harry gave his grandad one final squeeze before releasing him. As Harry's grandad was hopping down from the train the three Weasley boys were scrambling aboard – their mother and sister teary eyed as they waved them good-bye. Then with a lurch the train began to move and Harry went over to the compartment window so that he could watch his grandad and Fea for as long as possible as they too waved good-bye.
He watched until the train rounded a corner and platform nine and three-quarters was whisked out of sight. And soon enough even the station was out of sight as well and there were houses flashing past the window. After a moment, Harry returned to his seat and exchanged a glance with Luna. He could tell by the gleam in her pale eyes that she too was experiencing the same well of excitement that Harry could feel bubbling up inside him. Neither of them knew what to expect – but they knew it would be an adventure.
They had been traveling for no time at all when the compartment door slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in. He glanced at Harry, then at Luna, and then back again.
"Do you mind?" he asked finally, pointing to the empty seat beside Harry. "Everywhere else if already full…."
Harry exchanged a quick glance with Luna, who gave a small nod to indicate that it was his choice.
"It's fine," he said, and the boy sat down beside him. He still had a black mark on the end of his long nose.
It wasn't long before Harry could feel the other boy's eyes on him, but every time he glanced in the red-head's direction he would quickly look away and pretend he hadn't been staring at Harry at all.
This went on for several minutes until there was another knock at the compartment door. It was the twins once again.
"Hey, Ron," said one of the twins.
"Hey, Luna," said the other, with a nod to the blonde girl, before he, too, turned his attention to his younger brother. "Listen. We're going down to the middle of the train. Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."
"Right," mumbled Ron, looking suddenly quite pale.
"Oh, and Harry," said the first twin. "I can't remember if we introduced ourselves or not. We're Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. Well, see you all later, then."
"Bye," said the trio of first years as the twins left, the last one out the door sliding it shut behind him.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out the moment the door slid shut.
"Last time I checked," Harry retorted rather bluntly.
"Oh – well, I thought it might have been one of the twins' jokes," said Ron, the tips of his ears going red. "Have you really got the – the … you know…?"
He pointed at Harry's forehead.
"The what?" Harry asked dryly. If the other boy wanted to gawk at his forehead then he was going to have to work for it.
"The scar," Ron whispered.
"Yes," said Harry, sliding his fringe aside to reveal the lightning scar and wondering dully if the whole of his first year was going to be people ogling his forehead.
"Wicked," Ron breathed reverently. "So that's where You-Know-Who –?"
But he was prevented from saying more as Luna suddenly cleared her throat meaningfully and shot him a rather jaundiced look.
"Ronald, I know for a fact that your mother would be displeased if you continued that line of questioning," she said coolly.
Ron made a faint choking sound and quickly went back to studiously watching the empty corridor; his ears the exact same color as overcooked bacon.
After a while, Harry decided to take pity on the other boy and asked, "So, you and your brothers are the Weasleys from Ottery St. Catchpole, then?"
Ron turned away from the window and blinked at him, a rather bewildered look upon his face.
"Er – yes?" he hedged. "How did you know that?"
Harry nodded in Luna's direction and said, "We met over the summer while we were both staying on Diagon Alley. She mentioned your family when I asked about the other wizarding families that lived near her and her Dad."
Ron stared at the two of them in shock.
"You were both at Diagon Alley this summer?" he asked looking between them very quickly. "Neither of you where there when Gringotts was broken into, were you?"
Both Harry and Luna nodded.
"The break-in happened the first day I was there," Harry admitted.
"The alley was covered with Aurors and Leos for days afterwards," Luna added.
"'Course it was!" Ron burst out. "You know as well as I do, that everyone always gets scared when something like this happens. People start worrying that it's You-Know-Who behind it." He gave a faint shudder, then added, "My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get around one of the high security vaults at Gringotts, but according to the Daily Prophet they don't think they actually took anything, which is weird…."
"Was the culprit ever caught?" Harry asked, he hadn't really been able to keep up with the Daily Prophet once he was back on the ait.
"No," said Luna solemnly. "Though things seemed to be getting back to normal on the alley by the time I left." She then turned her attention to Ron. "Your oldest brother works at Gringotts, doesn't he? Has he said anything about the break-in to you?"
Ron shook his head.
"If he's written to Mum and Dad about it they haven't mentioned it to any of us – not that that would surprise me," he admitted. "Mum thinks we're too young to hear about stuff like that – especially me and Ginny."
"It must be nice having such a big family," Harry mused aloud, but for some reason Ron looked suddenly gloomy.
"I guess," he grimaced. "I mean I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts – tenth if you count my cousins. So, you could say I've got a lot to live up to. My oldest brothers, Bill and Charlie, have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was Captain of the House Quidditch team. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. So, everyone expects me to do at least as well as the others, but even if I do, it's not a big deal, because they did it first."
Yikes, thought Harry, wondering how he'd been invited to Ron Weasley's personal pity party. And the other boy wasn't done yet.
"And you never get anything new, either, with five brothers and a gaggle of cousins," he went on. "I've got Bill's old robes, Cousin Donnie's old cauldron, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."
Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat from the inner pocket; it was fast asleep.
"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up," Ron groaned. "Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff- – I mean, I got Scabbers instead."
Ron's ears went pink again and he seemed to think that he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out into the corridor again.
Harry exchanged bemused looks with Luna. He personally didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. He only had a vault full of wizarding gold because his parents had left it to him in their will and if the choice were up to him he would much rather have his parents than a pile of cold metal. He didn't say any of this to Ron, however.
While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. The sight of it reminding Harry of the sort of countryside he'd seen on his way from Causton to London that morning.
For a while the trio was quiet.
Ron and Luna swapping seats so that the red-haired boy could watch the fields and lanes go flickering past the window. Meanwhile, Luna fished a skein of self-striping yarn in various shades of blue from within her trunk and set about working on something that involved a plethora of double pointed needles and a lot of muttering. Harry, not wishing to mindlessly stare out the window and deciding it was best not to bother Luna, retrieved his copy of Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed from inside his own trunk and cracked it open to the section on the Stinging Hex.
Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled witch with curly gray hair slid back their door to ask them: "Anything off the trolley, dears?"
Both Harry and Luna climbed to their feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that his mum had packed him sandwiches.
"I've got a thermos of freshwater plimpy soup, but I would still like something sweet for afterwards," said Luna as they stepped into the corridor.
"Same," Harry agreed, but then he hurriedly back tracked. "Not about the soup – I've got sandwiches – but about wanting something for dessert."
As with Sugarplum's Sweetshop the cart was covered in all sorts of wizarding confections. There were Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkins Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands and a number of other things Harry had never seen before.
While Luna bought Licorice Wands, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum and Cauldron Cakes, Harry got a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, a selection of Chocolate Frogs and a couple of Pumpkin Pasties. Between the two of them they had bought one almost of everything on the cart for a grand total of sixteen silver Sickles and four bronze Knuts.
Ron stared as Harry and Luna brought their bounty back into the compartment and tipped the lot onto an empty seat. Then his jaw dropped as the pair of them also brought the thermos of plimpy soup, a trio of sandwiches and a couple of bottled drinks, too.
"Hungry, are you?" he remarked.
"Very much so," said Luna, tipping something that looked disturbingly like steaming, vegetation filled pond water with bits of fish in it into the bowl-like lid of her thermos to sip on.
"A bit," Harry replied honestly, unwrapping one of his sandwiches and peeling back the bread to see what Pell-Mell had made; chicken salad – yum! "Mostly I didn't want to miss anything."
Ron cast a look of longing towards the mound of sweets, then took out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. Inside were four sandwiches. He pulled one of them apart and said with disgust, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."
"I have plenty of plimpy soup, if you'd like some," said Luna, vacantly. "Everybody always requests our recipe for Freshwater Plimpy soup."
"Probably to show the Poisoning Department at St. Mungo's," Ron muttered under his breath, but Luna acted as though she hadn't heard.
Harry barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He'd had to listen to his grandad's horror stories about rationing during the war – not to mention some of the questionable things he'd had to scrounge up while going about his duties as Abhorsen – that were enough to make anyone thankful for the food in front of them. Even if it was Freshwater Plimpy soup.
"I'll swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up one of his sandwiches. He wasn't about to have to listen to the other boy moan about perfectly good food while he was trying to eat.
"You don't want this, it's all dry," Ron protested. "I mean it's just cause she hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us at home."
"Don't worry about it, Ron. I actually like corned beef," Harry informed him. "So go on and have one of my sandwiches. Or a pasty if you're not a chicken salad fan either."
Ron needed no further prompting. Immediately the red-haired boy helped himself to both a sandwich and a pasty.
"You know that now that you've fed him you're not going to be able to get rid of him," Luna informed him in a low voice so as to not be overheard. "Unless you get sorted into Slytherin," she added in a thoughtful sort of voice.
Harry just shrugged. It was no skin off his nose to be nice to the other boy until they reached Hogwarts.
Once the sandwiches and soup had been devoured and their bottles of pumpkins juice and green apple fizz had been drunk; the three of them turned their attention to the mound of sweets before them.
"What are these exactly?" Harry asked, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not real frogs, are they?" Because if he were honest nothing would surprise Harry after some of the things he'd seen exploring Diagon and Horizont Alley with Luna…The sugared butterfly wings she'd warned him not to eat at Tea Leaves and Thyme had been made of real sugar covered butterfly wings that apparently had a shelf life of just over eight hundred years!
"Don't worry it's just a spell," said Luna consolingly before biting the head off of a jelly slug.
"And anyway, it's the card you want," Ron added, thickly through a mouthful of cauldron cake. "Each pack's got a famous witch or wizard card inside them to collect. I've got about five hundred meself. Though I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."
Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog only for the confection to try and make a break for it as it leapt straight out of his hands and out the open train window to splat of a burst of chocolate gore against a tree they were passing.
"That's rotten luck," said Ron commiseratively. "They've only got one good jump in them to begin with. But at least you've still got the card."
Personally, Harry would have rather been biting the head off that escape artist of a frog, but he guessed he'd have to settle for the consolation prize. He picked up the card and flipped it over. It showed the face of an elderly looking wizard with long, flowing silver hair. Both atop his head and making up his beard and mustache. The wizard also had a long, crooked nose that looked as though someone had broken it for him at least twice and perched atop it were a pair of half-moon spectacles. Underneath the picture was the wizard's name: Albus Dumbledore.
"So this is Dumbledore," Harry murmured, clapping eyes for the first time in a decade on the man who had dumped him on the Dursleys' doorstep and then sent people to spy on him.
"I've got about six of him," said Ron carelessly. "Do you care if I have a frog? I might get Agrippa – ?"
Harry waved at him to have at it.
"Thanks," Ron muttered, seizing a frog for himself.
On the back of the card was a short blurb about the person pictured on the other side of the card. Dumbledore's read:
Albus Dumbledore
1881 - present
Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicholas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.
Harry turned the card back over and saw that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.
"You know I still find it a bit odd when someone goes and disappears from their photograph," he remarked idly, watching as Dumbledore sidled back into frame on the card and looked up at him with a small smile.
"Well, you can't expect them to hang around all day," said Ron knowledgably. "Oh no, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her … do either of you want it? You both collect them, right?"
His eyes strayed back over to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.
"Help yourself," Harry told him and this time he did roll his eyes.
Luna, however, was smiling mischievously.
"You know, Ron," she chimed in, just at the red-haired boy was about to bite the head off a frog. "Harry told me that in the Muggle world people just stay put in their photographs."
"Ack," Ron choked, then once he managed to force the too large piece of chocolate down his throat, gasped. "What, you're saying they don't move at all? Weird?"
As they worked their way through the Chocolate Frogs it became apparent that Ron was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards. Harry, however, had quite a bit of fun looking through them as Luna told him bits of trivia that wasn't covered in the blurb on the back. In the end, Harry wound up with the beginnings of a nice little collection since both Ron and Luna had copies of all the cards they found. He had not only Dumbledore and Morgana le Fey, but also Hengist of Woodcroft, Circe, Merlin, himself – and wasn't that odd – and even the founder of his line, Amarantha the Unfading, whose miniature portrait stared up at him imperiously as she tucked her cloak of feathers firmly about her shoulders.
After packing away his new collection of cards, Harry opened up the bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor – you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavored one once."
Luna gave a snort of derision.
"That's nothing," she declared. "Vomit, earwax, and unwashed sock – all in the same bag."
"Ok, you win," said Ron sounding impressed.
Even with the disgusting non-food flavors, they had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. While Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, curry, and sardine; Ron got sprouts, popcorn, cherry, earthworm, and green apple; and Luna got candy floss, watermelon, sausage, marshmallow, rotten egg, and banana. Of the three of them only Harry was brave enough to nibble the end off of a funny looking gray one with black speckles that turned out to be pepper.
The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.
There was a knock at the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Harry had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. He looked tearful.
"Sorry," he mumbled, "but have you seen a toad at all?"
When they shook their heads, he wailed. "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"
"I'm sure he'll turn up," said Harry awkwardly.
"I suppose," said the boy miserably.
"Have you tried asking one of the prefects for help," Luna suggested gently. "They're supposed to be up in the front carriage. I'm sure one of them will have a spell or something that could help you find him."
"I suppose … as long as they don't think it's too much of a bother…," the boy hedged. "Still, if you see him…."
He left.
"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."
The fat gray, garden rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.
"Pathetic, isn't he? He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," Ron said in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. Want to see?"
"Sure," said Harry, always eager to see a new bit of magic.
Luna, however, just stared as Ron got up and began rummaging around in his trunk.
"I thought you said the spell didn't work?" she questioned.
Ron's ears went pink, but he paid her no mind as he continued to shift things around in his trunk until he finally pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.
"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out," Ron grumbled, prodding the unicorn hair so that it wasn't poking out nearly as far. "Anyway –"
He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him.
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather prominent front teeth.
"We've already told him we haven't seen it and to go ask the prefects for a spell to find it," Ron informed her, but the girl wasn't listening, she was too busy looking at the wand in his hand.
"Oh, are you doing magic?" she asked. "Well, let's see it, then."
Then without so much as a by your leave she sat down in the empty seat between Ron and Hedwig's cage; leaving the red-haired boy to look rather taken back by this development.
"Er – all right," he stammered, then cleared his throat and said:
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,
Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."
He then proceeded to wave his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast sleep.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" she challenged. "Well, it's not very good, is it? Of course, I've only tried a few simple ones myself, but they've all worked for me. I was able to fix my dad's glasses with the Mending Charm after a couple of tries. Of course, Dad was quite surprised by this – he doesn't have any magic at all, you see. In fact, nobody in my family's magic at all. So, it was such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've even learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, and you are…?"
She said all of this very fast and even more impressively without taking a breath.
"Um, Ron Weasley," said Ron, looking a bit stunned by Hermione Granger's drive-by exposition.
"I'm Luna Lovegood," said Luna with a small nod.
Bracing himself, Harry said, "And I'm Harry Potter."
"Are you really?" Hermione asked wonderingly as her brown eyes raked his hair line. "I've read all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century –"
"As well as Notable Magical Names of Our Time and A History of Magic," said Luna, before adding, "Though I would really only trust Bathilda Bagshot for the true version of events."
"And why is that," Hermione demanded, her eyes widening almost manically. "The other books seemed quite knowledgeable about the matter?"
"Bathilda Bagshot actually lives in Godric's Hollow so she was there when it all happened," Luna explained. "Daddy even tried to interviewed her for an article after it happened, but she turned him down. Too upsetting she said."
"Really, you father's a writer," Hermione asked, sounding very interested.
Ron snorted.
"If you count The Quibbler as writing," he muttered under his breath, which earned him a positively frosty look from Luna.
"He's the editor of The Quibbler," Luna informed the other girl. "I can get you a copy of the latest issue if you'd like?"
"Oh, that sounds lovely, thank you," said Hermione Granger. "Do any of you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…. Anyway, we'd best go so that you can finish changing – after all, I expect we'll be arriving soon. Plus it will give Neville and I a chance to speak to the prefects about that spell you mentioned for finding his toad."
And then, as suddenly as she had arrived, she was gone. Taking the toadless boy, Neville, along with her.
"Whatever House I'm in, I hope she's not in it," Ron huffed grumpily as he stared at his wand in disgust. "Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."
"It might not be the spell, you know," Luna said slowly. "According to my grandfather an ash wand tends to bond strongly to their one true master and on account of that it ought not to be passed on or gifted from its original owner, because if it is it can cause the wand to lose power … this tendency is even more severe if the core of the wand is a unicorn hair … and you said the wand used to belong to your brother Charlie, so…."
"That's just one of those old superstitions," Ron huffed, tossing his wand back into his trunk and slamming the lid. "You know like, 'rowan gossips, chestnut drones, ash is stubborn, and hazel moans' or 'wand of elder, never prosper.' Mum's always spouting off stuff like that, but none of its really true."
"Says the stubborn boy with a wand of ash," Luna remarked idly. "Though I do suppose the belief that wands of elder are unlucky isn't necessarily true. It's only Death's Elder Wand that's the unlucky one."
Harry couldn't help noticing that she was looking at him as she said this.
"So, which House are either of you hoping for?" Harry asked, wishing very much to change the subject away from the powerful magical object that had been stolen from one of his ancestors in the thirteenth century, but the rest of the wizarding world thought had been a gift from Death itself.
"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," said Luna in a singsong voice, before adding quiet seriously, "Almost everyone in my family's been in Ravenclaw."
"Everyone in my family's been in Gryffindor," said Ron, a cloud of gloom descending upon him once again. "I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if I ended up in Slytherin." He gave a shudder. "Where are you aiming, Harry," he asked. "Gryffindor, right?"
Harry just shrugged.
"I don't really care which House I get into," he admitted. "My grandad was in Hufflepuff, but my parents were Gryffindors. And I think my dad's mum was in Ravenclaw. So who knows where I'll end up."
"Yeah, I suppose so," said Ron with a weary sigh as he flopped back into his seat, looking quite depressed.
"You know, I think the ends of Scabbers's whiskers might be a bit lighter," Harry fibbed, trying to take Ron's mind off Houses, but to no success.
"Let me try," Luna whispered to Harry, then in a louder tone added, "You know, Ron, Harry doesn't have a Quidditch team."
"What?" Ron gasped, looking quite dumbfounded. "How can you not have a team? You do know about Quidditch, right?"
"I've read about it," said Harry. "But I've never had the chance to play. I do like flying though."
And that was all Harry needed to say and then Ron was off.
He walked them through an in-depth explanation of the four balls and the positions of the seven players, then he was off describing the rather intense pick-up matches he, his brothers, and his cousins played in the family's apple orchard. He'd just begun walking them through the finer points of what a professional match was like when the compartment door slid open yet again.
This time it wasn't Neville Longbottom or Hermione Granger. It wasn't even the Weasley twins back from visiting their friend with the giant tarantula. Instead, it was a trio of boys. Harry recognized the one in the middle at once as the blond boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop, but he didn't know the other two who were flanking the blond on either side like a pair of bodyguards. He did, however, recognize their sort as they both seemed to be of the same stock his cousin Dudley chose his own friends from; big and mean looking.
"So, is it true?" the blond boy asked, staring at Harry with a lot more interest than he had before in the robe shop. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment. So, it's you, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Harry shortly meeting the blond's cool blue-grey eyes coldly. "Though I feel like I should mention that this is the second time you've asked me for my name and yet you still haven't offered me your own."
The blond didn't go red, he was far too pale to manage it, but a pink tinge that would have been bright red on anyone else spread across his face. Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a laugh. The blond glared at him.
"My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," the boy declared, before casting a contemptuous look at Ron. "There's no need for me to ask who you are. My father's told me all about the Weasleys and how they all have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."
He returned his attention to Harry and added, "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you with that."
He held out his hand to shake Harry's.
Harry thought about ignoring it, but then decided on what he hoped would be a better way of making his point. And so, quick as a striking snake, Harry seized the offered hand in a bruising grasp, then used their joined hands to reel the blond in towards him.
"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," he snarled coolly in the other boy's ear before abruptly releasing him with enough force to send him staggering back into the bulk of his followers.
Draco Malfoy gave a scornful snort, but Harry couldn't help noticing how the blond was surreptitiously flexing his fingers as though trying to regain the feeling in them.
"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he retorted coldly, a pink tinge flooding his cheeks once again. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. And we all know what happened to them in the end, don't we."
Harry saw red, but it was Luna, who had been over looked and dismissed completely by Malfoy, who responded.
"Get out," she snarled, her grey eyes as cold and remote as glacier water.
"Oh, and what are you going to do if we don't," Malfoy scoffed. "Fight us?"
"No, but I'll hex the lot of you unless you get out of our compartment," Harry snarled, drawing his wand from where it was holstered at his hip and pointing the tip of the slender rod of holly in Malfoy's general direction. "You'd probably look right fetching with a set of antlers."
Malfoy froze momentarily at the sight of Harry's wand, before sneering dismissively.
"I bet you don't even know a single spell yet," he jeered. "So I don't think we'll be leaving just yet. After all, we've already eaten all of our food and you still seem to have some."
Malfoy's lacky with the mud colored eyes and shorty bristly hair reached towards the remaining sweets beside Ron, but the red-haired boy wasn't about to let anyone mess with the food. He lunged forward, but before he could so much as touch him, the larger boy let out a horrible yell.
Scabbers the rat was hanging off of his finger, his sharp little teeth sunk deep into the boy's knuckle – Malfoy and his lacky with the pudding bowl haircut backed away as bristly-hair swung Scabbers round and round, howling, until at last the rat went flying and hit the window with a dull thunk.
At once the three boys hurried out of the compartment and off down the corridor. Perhaps they thought Scabbers was part of some spell Harry had cast, or maybe they had heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor and feared it was a prefect. In any case, they were gone.
The person in the corridor wasn't a prefect, however. It was Hermione Granger, back again.
"What has been going on?" she cried, looking at the wand in Harry's hand, the sweets all over the floor and Ron, who was picking up Scabbers by the tail.
"Is he alright," Luna asked, peering at the fat, gray rat intently. "He hit the window awfully hard."
"I think he's just been knocked out," Ron told her. Then he looked closer at Scabbers and groaned. "No – I don't believe it – he's gone back to sleep!"
This surprised a twitter of laughter from Luna.
"Where'd you know Malfoy from," Ron asked Harry suspiciously.
Returning his wand to his holster, Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.
"Such a rude boy," Luna remarked. "Names are important, but we're not Fae. So there's no reason to go guarding his and his companions' like a dragon with its last brass teacup. Too many dealing with the courts that family, you mark my words."
"I don't know about them having any dealings with the courts, but I've never heard anything good about his family so it wouldn't surprise me," Ron muttered darkly. "The Malfoys were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. They said they'd been bewitched, but my dad doesn't believe it. According to him ol' Lucius Malfoy didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione, who was still hovering in the doorway. "Can we help you with something?" he demanded.
"It just, I've been up to the front with Neville – about that spell to find his toad – anyway, while we were up there I spoke to the conductor and he says that we're nearly there, so you had best hurry up and put your robes on," she said, still glancing every now and again at the sweets strewn across the compartment floor. "You haven't been fighting, have you?" she asked fretfully. "You'll be in trouble before we've even got there!"
"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "And away, do you mind leaving while we change?"
"All right, no need to get shirty, I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly and racing up and down the corridors," Hermione said in a sniffy sort of voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know? Just there –" She pointed at the side of her own nose.
Ron glared at her as she left. Harry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and a dark forest silhouetted against the deep purple sky and the train did seem to be slowing down.
"I'll step outside while you both change," Luna informed them before slipping out the door and into the corridor.
While Harry pulled on his long black robes over the rest of his uniform, Ron had to change clothes entirely. His shirt and slacks were in good nick though a bit long in the arms and leg, but the elbows of his jumper had obviously been darned multiple times. Ron's robes were also so faded that they were closer to charcoal in color that black and a bit short on him, because you could easily see the turn-ups of his trousers and his scuff toed dress shoes underneath them when he moved his arms.
As Luna rejoined them a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogsmeade Station in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
Harry felt suddenly nauseous from nerves and Ron, he saw, looked vaguely green underneath his freckles. Even Luna seemed nervous as she began rocking from her heels to her toes and back again. Eager for something to do to take his mind off of things, Harry gave their compartment a quick once over to make sure all of their belongings were safely packed away in their trunks and that Hedwig was still secure in her travel cage.
As the train slowed to a stop the trio joined the crowd in the corridor. There, they allowed themselves to be chivvied along until it was their turn to exit the train and they found themselves standing on a tiny, dark platform.
Up ahead a lamp came bobbing out of the darkness, held high over the heads of even the tallest of the students, and then Harry heard a familiar voice calling out: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"
It was Hagrid. A broad smiled curling the whiskers of his hairy face as he looked out over the sea of students.
"C'mon, follow me," Hagrid called. "Any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Slipping and stumbling, a group of forty first years followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought that there must be thick trees or a hedgerow growing there. As they walked nobody spoke. Though Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.
Out in front of them all, Hagrid called over his shoulder, "Yeh'll be getting' yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec – jus' round this bend here."
There was a loud cry of wonder as the narrow path suddenly ended and they found themselves standing on a pebble strewn beach at the edge of a great black lake with Hogwarts Castle rising up impressively before them.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of a dozen or so little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Luna and Ron were followed into their boat by a tiny Asian girl with crystal blue eyes. Meanwhile, Hermione and Neville, who scrambled into the next boat over, where joined by a reedy looking boy and a big boned girl with dark hair.
"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat all to himself. "Right then – FORWARD!"
And the fleet of little boats castoff from the shore all at once, and began to propel themselves across the lake, which was smooth as glass. As they neared the castle with its gleaming windows and many towers and turrets, Harry could swear he felt something almost like a gentle nudge brush up against his mind. There and gone again, before he could examine it.
"Madam Hogwarts, says hello," Luna murmured softly and Harry knew that she too had felt the same presence he had – warm and vast and so very welcoming.
"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first of the boats reached the cliff upon which the castle was perched and they all bent their heads as the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face.
They were then carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them directly underneath the castle itself, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they were then instructed to clamber out onto another pebble strewn beach.
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as the first years climbed out of them.
"Trevor!" Neville cried blissfully, jogging back to the boat and holding out his hands for the fat, brown toad croaking grumpily in Hagrid's massive fist.
They were then led up a passageway in the rock by Hagrid, his lamp bobbing along high above their heads, until at last they emerged onto the smooth, damp grass of the castle's front lawn.
Hagrid led them up a flight of stone steps and for a moment they stood crowding around in front of the huge, oak front door.
"Everyone here?" Hagrid asked, looking them over to ensure that they were all there and accounted for. "You there, still got yer toad?"
Hagrid then raised one of his giant fists and knocked three times on the castle door.