On the 1st of September, things were going to be pretty hectic. Not now, however, as now, it was barely dawn, and the Weasley children weren't awake yet. The sky was still a light pink blazed with gold, and the weather forecast said that it would be sunny the whole day. Mrs Weasley woke up in her bedroom and checked the time; it was just 6:30am. Well, the children could leave at 9am, she thought, as the mother got dressed, and that gave them two-and-a-half hours to pack. Even though the family had been packing their trunks two days before, there was always a shocking amount of missed things. As Mrs Weasley made her way downstairs, she saw one of Fred's socks dangling on a shelf. Sighing, she picked it up and placed it with its pair on the table, and began to make breakfast – as well as the sandwiches that would go with them along the journey.
Approximately one hour later, Mrs Weasley walked upstairs again and shook Ron softly. Ron grunted in his sleep, then opened his eyes and blinked. "Wha– what's the matter?" he said, failing to stifle a huge yawn. He hadn't expected to be woken up this early, and he hadn't realized today's date either. "Get up, you need to be ready and packed by nine o'clock," said Mrs Weasley, putting a stray quill inside Ron's trunk, and retrieving Scabbers from under the bed. Ron got up from his bed and pulled on a hoodie. "Packed? Wh–" and then he remembered the day. Suddenly, the redhead's sleepy expression changed to one of excitement. "We're going to Hogwarts today!" He grinned, and dressed the rest of himself much faster than before. The boy practically bounced downstairs and sat down on his usual chair. Percy was already there, along with Mr Weasley; both of them were emerged in a book. Bill had left the last week, going back to Egypt to do his job.
Mrs Weasley got them some plates and popped a couple pieces of toast onto each one. Ron grabbed his, and began to gobble down his first piece as fast as he could; Percy looked disgusted as he looked at Ron from above his book. Mr Weasley said good morning to Ron, and the father and son began to talk about jobs at the Ministry of Magic. "What kind of jobs can you find in the Ministry, father?" Percy interrupted once. It seemed like two hours – but in reality it was just ten minutes – before Fred and George walked downstairs, seating themselves either side of Ron. "Morning, mum, morning, dad," they chorused together, as the twins began to eat their pieces of toast. The family continued talking for a while before Ginny walked down; once she had finished breakfast, Mrs Weasley instructed them all to look over their trunks.
Grudgingly, Ron walked upstairs to check if he'd missed anything. The answer was yes… a lot of things. There were two brand-new quills stuck in the drawer behind his mirror, Scabbers had escaped once more and was nibbling a piece of broken wood behind a cabinet, Ron's wand was found stuck in the middle of two chairs… there were just far too many things to count. Fortunately, Ron had stuffed them all in his trunk just five minutes after 9am, and the Weasley family cramped themselves into their car. "Right, Arthur, let's go," said Mrs Weasley, checking the time on her watch; King's Cross was a long way from here. In the front, Mr and Mrs Weasley sat, and in the back, Ron, Fred, George and Percy were stuffed. Fred and George were particularly taking up a lot of space – Percy kept telling them to move over. Halfway through the journey, however, the twins told Ron something.
"Hey, Ron," said Fred, bending over so that nobody else could hear them.
Ron looked up at the twins. "What?"
"Do you want to learn a spell?" said George.
"We assumed so," said Fred, as Ron nodded eagerly.
"What does it do?" said Ron.
"It makes Scabbers yellow."
"Woah!"
"Here's what you have to say," said George, before the twins recited together,
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,
Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"
The twins grinned, and Ron put this spell in his memory so that he could test it later on. One hour later, however, the family had arrived at King's Cross and there was no time for the redhead to practice. Mrs Weasley leading the way, the children walked over to Platform 9, Ron absent-mindedly listening to his mother speak.
"Now, we need to be careful," she was saying briskly – Ginny smiled at her side – "Particularly today. The station's packed with muggles, of course, and who knows, they might notice us." Ron grinned at her mother, before turning away; he had just noticed a black haired boy watching from a distance. But he had no time to brood on this boy, because Mrs Weasley was talking again.
"Now, what's the platform number?" she turned around at the children, making sure they all remembered.
"Nine and three quarters!" Piped up Ginny, who was smiling wider than before. "Mum, can't I go…"
"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."
Percy nodded once, held his trolley tight, and strode into the barrier between Platform 9 and 10. A second later, he disappeared. Mrs Weasley gave a small smile, and watched a large group of tourists walk away. When the coast was clear, she said, "Fred, you next."
"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the twin which Ron knew to be Fred, "Honestly, woman, call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"
"Sorry, George, dear."
"Only joking, I am Fred." And before Mrs Weasley could scold him, Fred clutched his trolley and ran into the barrier, before disappearing into the secret platform. George grinned at his mother before running in after Fred. Now there was only Mrs Weasley, Ron and Ginny left. Mrs Weasley gestured for Ron to go ahead, but the eleven-year-old had hardly moved a step before he noticed that the black haired boy from before had approached his mother and was saying, "Excuse me…"
Mrs Weasley must have noticed him, too, because she replied, "Hullo, dear… First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." She pointed at Ron, who immediately stopped staring at the boy and looked at the clean ceiling above – his mother had always told him that it was rude to stare, and so he didn't. "Yes," said the boy, "The thing is – the thing is – I don't know how to –"
"How to get on the platform?" said Mrs Weasley kindly, and the boy nodded. Ron had absent-mindedly began to stare at him again, but the redhead looked away hurriedly. "Not to worry," Mrs Weasley was saying, "All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron." It was easy to see that the boy was taking this all in.
"Er – okay," said the boy, before pushing his trolley round and turning to stare at the barrier for a couple of moments. Ron watched. The black haired boy started to move forwards, gathering pace slowly. Then he leant forwards slightly and broke into a run, before closing his eyes when the barrier was a foot away. Then poof – the boy was gone, and the last sight Ron got of his trolley was of a snowy white owl on a cage on top of it. Mrs Weasley gestured to Ron to go next, and the boy did so. He held his trolley tightly, and wasn't worried; he'd done this loads of times before. The redhead broke into a run from the very beginning, absolutely loving the speed of the trolley as it rattled slightly — he kept his eyes wide open, not wanting to miss anything — he went faster and faster, watching the ticket barrier draw closer — and then the boy had done it. He had arrived at Platform 9 and three quarters.
Ron had been here before, but the station was still wonderful. Instead of the normal and boring platform in King's Cross, the magical one was much better. For one thing, the platform was packed with people wearing wizarding robes and muggle clothing alike, and also, the train was a bright scarlet, and smoke was bellowing from the engine. For another, there were a surprising amount of cats on the station, wounding between the legs of the crowd. There were owls above, hooting to each other, talking in their own language. Ron could just make out Mrs Weasley and Ginny appearing behind him over the loud noises of scraping trunks and the babble.
"Fred? George? Are you there?" called Mrs Weasley, her voice drifting through the open door of the train.
"Coming, mum," called the twins together, and hopped off the train in unison. Ron just caught the black haired boy from before staring at his family before looking away again. Mrs Weasley had just taken out a handkerchief, and was saying to Ron, "Ron, you've got something on your nose." The eleven-year-old tried to jerk out of the way, but his mother held him tightly and began to rub the end of his nose ruthlessly.
"Mum — geroff," was all Ron managed to say before wriggling away.
"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said George, smiling innocently at Ron.
"Shut up."
"Where's Percy?" said Mrs Weasley suddenly.
"He's coming now."
Percy came striding into sight, having combed his flaming red hair and changed into his Hogwarts robes already. A shiny red and gold badge with the letter P (for Prefect) was pinned to the top of his robes. "Can't stay long, mother," he said briskly, "I'm up front, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves —"
"Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?" said Fred, with an air of great surprise, "You should have said something, we had no idea."
"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said George, "Once –"
"Or twice –"
"A minute –"
"All summer –"
"Oh, shut up," snapped Percy, and Ron and the twins grinned.
"How come he gets new robes, anyway?" said Fred.
"Because he's a Prefect," said Mrs Weasley 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 went briskly into the train. Then his mother turned to the twins. "Now, you two – this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've – you've blown up a toilet or –"
"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."
"Great idea though, thanks, Mum."
"It's not funny. And look after Ron."
"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."
"Shut up," said Ron again. His nose was still pink from where his mother had rubbed it, but obviously the boy didn't care.
"Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?" Fred said eagerly. "You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?"
"Who?"
"Harry Potter!"
Ron gasped to himself – he'd heard a lot about Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived. But perhaps it could be one of Fred and George's jokes; they liked to do things like that. "Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, Mum, oh please…"
"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"
"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there – like lightning."
"Poor dear – no wonder he was alone. I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get on to the platform."
"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"
Mrs Weasley suddenly became very stern. "I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school."
"Alright, keep your hair on."
Just then, a whistle sounded on the train; it was about to move. "Hurry up!" said Mrs Weasley, and the three boys clambered on to the train just before the doors closed. They leant out of the window for their mother to kiss them goodbye and Ginny started to cry.
"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."
"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."
"George!"
"Only joking, mum."
The train began to move, and Mrs Weasley waved to the boys. Ginny ran to keep up with the train, half laughing, half crying, before falling back and waving fiercely. The train turned a corner and the platform was gone. Ron grabbed his trunk and slowly began to walk across the train. He passed a compartment in which a blonde boy and two other boys were gobbling down some food from the trolley, another where a bushy-haired girl was immersed in a book and a round-faced boy was crouching under the seats looking for something, one where Lee Jordan, the twins' friend, was holding a box and obviously waiting for Fred and George, and many more filled with students he didn't recognize. But finally, there was one near the end of the train which was nearly empty — only the black-haired boy from before was there. Ron slid open the door of the compartment and came in. "Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite the boy. "Everywhere else is full." The black-haired boy shook his head and the redhead sat down. Ron glanced at the boy curiously, wondering if he really was Harry Potter, then quickly looked out of the window. Staring was rude.
Just then, the door of the compartment slid open again; the twins were back. "Hey, Ron," said Fred, "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan's
got a giant tarantula down there."
"Right," mumbled Ron.
"Harry," said George, turning to the boy, "Did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."
"Bye," said Ron and the boy, as the twins shut the door behind them. Ron couldn't resist the urge now.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" he blurted out. The boy nodded.
"Oh – well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes,' said Ron. And have you really got – you know..." He pointed at the boy's forehead. He pulled back his fringe to reveal a thin red lightning scar. Ron stared. "So that's where You-Know-Who —?"
"Yes," said Harry, "But I can't remember it."
"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly; You-Know-Who had been the darkest wizard, and the redhead certainlhy wanted to know more.
"Well — I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."
"Wow," breathed Ron. He stared at Harry for a few moments, then, remembering that it was rude to stare, quickly looked out of the window again. The train was moving along at a very great speed, racing along the path of London.
"Are all your family wizards?" said Harry.
"Er — Yes, I think so. I think mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."
"So you must know loads of magic already."
"I heard you went to live with muggles," said Ron, trying to change the subject; he really didn't know what to say. "What are they like?"
"Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."
"Five," said Ron gloomily. The reason for his gloom was because with five brothers, you get the short end of the stick all the time. Especially when you're the youngest. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. 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. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand and Percy's old rat." He reached inside his jacket and pulled out Scabbers, who was snoozing. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. 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; he had almost mentioned that his family didn't have much money, and that was a fail-safe way to get Harry against him. He must have said too much, because the redhead returned to looking out of the window; they had left the city behind and were now in the countryside of London. A few moments later, Harry had started to speak again;
"There's nothing wrong with not being able to afford something, you know. I never had money before, and had to wear my cousin Dudley's old clothes, and got a pair of socks for my birthday." This cheered Ron up considerably; he stopped looking outside and looked at Harry again. "And until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort —" Ron gasped audibly. "What?" said Harry.
"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, both shocked and impressed. Only the bravest and stupidest people said the name (although he didn't say this in front of Harry). "I'd have thought you, of all people —"
"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Harry, "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," and his voice suddenly had a trace of apprehension in it, "'I bet I'm the worst in the class."
"You won't be," said Ron swiftly. "There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough." While they were talking, the train had sped out of London and now was heading towards Hogwarts (Ron had no idea where it was). The two boys went quiet for a moment, silently watching fields with cows and sheep flick past. Around half-past twelve, there was a clattering outside the compartment; an old lady with a kindly looking face was clutching a trolley. When she slid open the compartment door, Ron saw that the trolley was filled with the best wizarding snacks; Chocolate Frogs, Every-Flavour Beans, Liquorice Wands, Cauldron Cakes, Best Blowing Gum and there were even a couple of Sugar Quills in the corner. "Anything off the trolley, dears?" said the lady. Harry leapt to his feet, but Ron — as he didn't have much money — went slightly pink and muttered that he'd brought sandwiches.
A couple of minutes later, Harry returned with some of every sweet, and placed them all on an empty seat. Ron stared, before saying, "Hungry, are you?"
"Starving," said Harry, before biting into a Pumpkin Pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package from his pocket, and unwrapped it to reveal four sandwiches Mrs Weasley had made for him in the morning. "She always forgets I don't like corned beef," said Ron, pulling one apart.
"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on –"
"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."
"Go on, have a pasty," said Harry, still holding it out. After a few moments, the two boys were eating their way through Harry's enormous collection of snacks (the sandwiches were forgotten by both). Ron particularly enjoyed the Cauldron Cakes; they were fluffy and had a scent of vanilla in them. A few minutes later, however, Harry held up a Chocolate Frog and said, "What are these? They're not really frogs, are they?"
"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is, I'm missing Agrippa."
"What?"
"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know – Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect – Famous Witches and Wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."
Harry unwrapped a Chocolate Frog and glanced at the card; Ron could just make out a long white beard. "So this is Dumbledore!" said Harry.
"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore!" Ron said. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa – thanks –" Ron picked up a frog, unwrapped it and hungrily ate its head, before glancing at the card; it was Morgana. He already had six of her.
"He's gone!" Harry said suddenly; Dumbledore had just disappeared from his portrait in the card.
"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day." said Ron. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting." The redhead's eyes drifted over to the rather large pile of Chocolate Frogs — the boy hadn't realized he was hungry.
"Help yourself," said Harry. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."
"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" said Ron, amazed. "Weird!" The redhead chomped off a leg of the Chocolate Frog before hungrily stuffing it all into his mouth, watching Harry stare at Dumbledore from the corner of his eye. Soon, as the pile of Frogs grew smaller and smaller, Harry and Ron decided to try another candy; Every-Flavour Beans. "You need to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry — he had far too much experience of this when he was younger. "When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour – 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-flavoured one once." He picked up a green bean, inspected it carefully and bit into a corner. "Bleaaargh – see? Sprouts."
Eating the Beans were definitely interesting. Ron wouldn't touch a grey one, but apart from that, the redhead got strawberry, vanilla, mayonnaise, salt, cabbage, honey, grass and lemon as flavours. Meanwhile, the countryside that was speeding past them in the train had changed; there were no neat little field anymore, but green hills, dense woods and soft, flowing rivers. Once nearly all the beans were finished, and Ron was wiping his face with a tissue, the door of the compartment slid open and the round-faced boy Ron had seen in a previous compartment walked in. He was looking tearful. "Sorry," he said, "But have you seen a toad at all?" When Ron and Harry shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keep getting away from me!"
"He'll turn up," said Harry.
"Yes," said the boy, looking miserable. "Well, if you see him…" the boy 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 rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap. "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said the redhead in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..." He rummaged in his trunk before finally holding out a very battered looking wand; it was his brother, Charlie's. "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out," said Ron. "Anyway…" He raised his wand, but stopped immediately; the door of the compartment had slid open again. The boy who was looking for his toad was back, but the bushy-haired girl who was reading a book before was with him. She was already wearing her Hogwarts robes. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said, in a rather bossy voice. Ron noticed the girl had large front teeth.
"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening; she was looking at the wand in his hand.
"Oh, are you doing magic?" she said, sitting down opposite Ron. "Let's see it, then."
Ron was taken aback. "Er — Alright," he said, before reciting, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!" He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers was still grey and still asleep.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever 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 learnt all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?" she said this very fast, and Ron and Harry tried to take this all in. The redhead was stunned; did she just say that she'd learnt all the set books off by heart? This was one weirdo.
"I'm Ron Weasley," mumbled Ron.
"Harry Potter," said Harry.
"Are you really?" said Hermione. "'I know 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."
"Am I?" said Harry — Ron noticed he looked a tad dazed.
"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do either 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 heard Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You too had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." And she got up and left, taking Neville with her.
"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron, a tinge of gloom in his voice. He threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."
"What house are your brothers in?" asked Harry.
"Gryffindor," said Ron gloomily. "Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."
"That's the house Vol– I mean, You-Know-Who was in?"
"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, slightly depressed.
"You know, I think the ends of Scabbers's whiskers are a bit lighter," said Harry after a couple of moments. "So what do your oldest brothers do now they've left, anyway?"
"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron — Bill had indeed left for Africa a week after the visit to Diagon Alley. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles – someone tried to rob a high-security vault."
Harry stared. "Really? What happened to them?"
"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."
Harry and Ron went quiet for a moment, and the redhead looked out of the window; it had started to get slightly dark, and the sky was a beautiful gradient that went from purple to pink to yellow. "What's your Quidditch team?" asked Ron.
"Er — I don't know any," said Harry.
"What!" said Ron, slightly dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world —" and the boy began to describe the wonderful game of Quidditch; the three kinds of balls, the different kinds of players, the best kind of broom, which position he'd like to play, the famous games he'd seen with his family… He was just telling Harry about how to save a goal when the compartment door slid open again. This time, it wasn't Neville the toadless boy or Hermione again. Three boys entered and Ron recognized them as the ones who were gobbling down food down the front of the train. The boy in the center was blonde, and he was looking at Harry with a lot of interest.
"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"
"Yes," said Harry. Ron noticed the two boys standing beside the blonde one; they were rather big around the middle and looked like bodyguards.
"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry and Ron were looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
Ron gave a slight snigger, which he hastily turned into a cough — he'd heard the name Malfoy before; there was a Lucius Malfoy who was enemies with dad, and the name was slightly hilarious.
"Think my name's funny, do you?" said Draco Malfoy, turning to look at Ron. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford." He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out 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 there." He held out a hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.
"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.
Malfoy didn't go red, but his cheeks went slightly pinker than before. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "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. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and it'll rub off on you." Both Harry and Ron stood up at this, Ron was as red as a ruby.
"Say that again," said the redhead.
"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" sneered Malfoy.
"Unless you get out now," said Harry bravely.
"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."
Goyle reached towards the Chocolate Frogs beside Ron. Ron leapt forwards, wanting to stop him, but the redhead had hardly touched him before Goyle let out a horrible yell. Scabbers was hanging off his finger, its sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's hand. Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them had disappeared. A second later, just as Harry and Ron sat down, Hermione Granger had come back inside.
"What has been going on?" she said, her eyes moving across the sweets which were all on the floor, and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail.
"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry, "No — I don't believe it — he's gone back to sleep… You've met Malfoy before?" Harry told Ron that they had met in Diagon Alley in the robes shop.
"I've heard of his family," Ron said darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"
"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"
"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"
"All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"
Ron glared at her as she left, before glancing out of the window again. The sky was now deep purple, and mountains and forests were passing by. The train seemed to be slowing down.
The two boys pulled off their jackets and pulled on the black Hogwarts robes; Ron's were a bit short for him. A few moments later, a voice echoed through the train; "We will be reaching
Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately." Ron went slightly pale under his freckles, but he didn't say anything. They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd in the corridor.
The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way towards the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came
bobbing over the heads of the students and Ron heard a thick voice; "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! All right there, Harry?" A giant with a thick, bushy beard beamed at Harry from above the crowd. "C'mon, follow me – any more firs'-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs'-years follow me!" Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark either side of them that Ron thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice. "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," said the giant. "jus' round this bend here."
Thre was an audible gasp from the first years. The narrow path had opened suddenly on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. "No more'n four to a boat!" called the giant pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione. "Everyone in?" shouted the giant, who had a boat to himself, "Right then – FORWARD!" And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. 'Heads down!' yelled the giant as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out on to rocks and pebbles. "Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said the giant, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.
"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after the giant's lamp, coming out at last on to smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. "Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" The giant raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.