The end of the summer vacation came too quickly for everyone's liking. The Potters were looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts, but their month at the Burrow had been the happiest of their life. It was difficult not to feel jealous of Ron and Ginny when they thought of the

Dursleys and the sort of welcome he could expect next time they turned up on Privet Drive. On their last evening, Mrs. Weasley conjured up a sumptuous dinner that included all of the Potters' favorite things, ending with a mouthwatering treacle pudding. Fred and George rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they filled the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed. It took a long while to get started next morning. They were up at dawn, but somehow they still seemed to have a great deal to do. Mrs. Weasley dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills; people kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed with bits of toast in their hands; and Mr. Weasley nearly broke his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying Ginny's trunk to the car. Grace couldn't see how thirteen people, eleven large trunks, four owls, and a rat were going to fit into one small Ford Anglia. She had reckoned, of course, without the special features that Mr. Weasley had added.

Mr. Weasley: Not a word to Molly.

He opened the trunk and showed them how it had been magically expanded so that the luggage fitted easily.

When at last they were all in the car, Mrs. Weasley glanced into the two back rows, where Harry, Ron, Taylor, Grace were in a row with Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Percy behind them they were all sitting comfortably side by side

Mrs. Weasley: Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?

She, Ginny, and Amy got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a park bench.

Mrs. Weasley: I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?

Mr. Weasley started up the engine and they trundled out of the yard, the Potters turning back for a last look at the house. They barely had time to wonder when he'd see it again when they were back—George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes after that, they skidded to a halt in the yard so that Fred could run in for his broomstick. They had almost reached the highway when Ginny shrieked that she'd left her diary. By the time she had clambered back into the car, they were running very late, and tempers were running high.

Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch and then at his wife.

Mr. Weasley: Molly, dear…

Mrs. Weasley: No, Arthur.

Mr. Weasley: No one would see — this little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed—that'd get us up in the air—then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser.

Mrs. Weasley: I said no, Arthur, not in broad daylight.

They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys for their trunks and they all hurried into the station. Three of the Potters had caught the Hogwarts Express the previous year. The tricky part was getting onto platform nine and three-quarters, which wasn't visible to the Muggle eye. What you had to do was walk through the solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. It didn't hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muggles noticed you vanishing.

Mrs. Weasley: Bill first

Mrs. Weasley looked nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier. Bill strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr. Weasley went

next; Charlie after. Percy after Charlie. Fred and George followed. Taylor went after them. Amy right behind her. Then Grace.

Mrs. Weasley: I'll take Ginny and you two come right after us.

Ron: Let's go together, we've only got a minute

Harry made sure that Hedwig's cage was safely wedged on top of his trunk and wheeled his trolley around to face the barrier. He felt perfectly confident; this wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. Both of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run and—CRASH. Both trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump, Harry was knocked off his feet, and Hedwig's cage bounced onto the shiny floor, and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly; people all around them stared

Guard: What in blazes d'you think you're doing?

Harry: Lost control of the trolley

Ron ran to pick up Hedwig, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd.

Harry: Why can't we get through?

Ron: I dunno.

Ron looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching them.

Ron: We're going to miss the train. I don't understand

why the gateway's sealed itself…

Harry looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ten seconds . . . nine seconds . . . He wheeled his trolley forward cautiously until it was right against the barrier and pushed with all his might. The metal remained solid. Three seconds . . . two seconds . . . one second . . .

Ron: It's gone. The train's left. What if Mum and Dad can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?"

Harry gave a hollow laugh.

Ron: The Dursleys haven't given my sisters and I pocket money for about six years.

Ron pressed his ear to the cold barrier.

Ron: Can't hear a thing," he said tensely. "What're we going to do? I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back to us.

They looked around. People were still watching them, mainly because of Hedwig's continuing screeches.

Harry: I think we'd better go and wait by the car. We're attracting too much atten…

Ron: Harry! The car!

Harry: What about it?"

Ron: We can fly the car to Hogwarts!

Harry: But I thought…

Ron: We're stuck, right? And we've got to get to school, haven't we? And even underage wizards are allowed to use magic if it's a real emergency, section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Thingy…

Harry: But your mum and dad… How will they get home?

Ron: They don't need the car! They know how to Apparate! You know, just vanish and reappear at home!

They only bother with Floo powder and the car because we're all underage and we're not allowed to Apparate yet.

Harry's feeling of panic turned suddenly to excitement.

Harry: Can you fly it?

Ron: No problem. C'mon, let's go. If we hurry we'll be able to follow the Hogwarts Express.

And they marched off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station and back onto the side road where the old Ford Anglia was parked. Ron unlocked the cavernous trunk with a series of taps from his wand. They heaved their luggage back in, put Hedwig on the back seat, and got into the front.

Ron: Check that no one's watching.

Harry: Okay.

Ron pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard. The car around them vanished — and so did they. Harry could feel the seat vibrating beneath him, hear the engine, feel his hands on his knees and his glasses on his nose, but for all he could see, he had become a pair of eyeballs, floating a few feet above the ground in a dingy street full of parked cars.

Ron: Let's go.

And the ground and the dirty buildings on either side fell away, dropping out of sight as the car rose; in seconds, the whole of London lay, smoky and glittering, below them.

On the train:

Taylor, Grace, Hermione, Amy, and Ginny all found a compartment that was empty.

Taylor: I wonder where Ron and Harry are I didn't see them on the platform.

Ginny: Yeah, Mum was freaking out.

Hermione: Ginny, do you think any of your brothers might have seen them?

Ginny: Maybe lets go ask them.

Taylor: Lets go then.

Ginny: WAIT! Charlie and Bill are prefects they are in a meeting right now.

Grace: Ok then. Hermione and I will go first and ask Percy. Then when we come back Taylor and Ginny will go ask Fred and George.

Taylor: Ok.

Grace and Hermione left the compartment.

Amy: I hope they're okay.

Taylor: Me too.

Back with Harry and Ron:

Then there was a popping noise and the car, Harry, and Ron reappeared.

Ron: Uh-oh. It's faulty…

Both of them pummeled it. The car vanished. Then it flickered back again.

Ron: Hold on!

He slammed his foot on the accelerator; they shot straight into the low, woolly clouds and everything

turned dull and foggy.

Harry: Now what?

Ron: We need to see the train to know what direction to go in. Dip back down again—quickly…

They dropped back beneath the clouds and twisted around in their seats, squinting at the ground.

Harry: I can see it! Right ahead — there!

The Hogwarts Express was streaking along below them like a scarlet snake.

Ron: Due north. Okay, we'll just have to check on it every half hour or so — hold on —"

And they shot up through the clouds. A minute later, they burst out into a blaze of sunlight. It was a different world. The wheels of the car skimmed the sea of fluffy cloud, the sky a bright, endless blue under the blinding white sun.

Ron: All we've got to worry about now are airplanes.

They looked at each other and started to laugh; for a long time, they couldn't stop. It was as though they had been plunged into a fabulous dream. This, thought Harry, was surely the only way to travel — past swirls and turrets of snowy cloud, in a car full of hot, bright sunlight, with a fat pack of toffees in the glove compartment, and the prospect of seeing Fred's and George's jealous faces when they landed smoothly and spectacularly on the sweeping lawn in front of Hogwarts castle. They made regular checks on the train as they flew farther and farther north, each dip beneath the clouds showing them a different view. London was soon far behind them, replaced by neat green fields that gave way in turn to wide, purplish moors, a great city alive with cars like multicolored ants, villages with tiny toy churches. Several uneventful hours later, however, Harry had to admit that some of the fun was wearing off. Why hadn't they been able to get onto platform nine and three-quarters?

Ron: Can't be much further, can it? Ready for another check on the train?"

It was still right below them. Then the engine began to whine. Harry and Ron exchanged nervous glances.

Ron: It's probably just tired. It's never been this far before.

And they both pretended not to notice the whining growing louder and louder as the sky became steadily darker.

Ron: Not far.

Harry: There! Straight ahead!

Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on the cliff over the lake, stood the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts castle. But the car had begun to shudder and was losing speed.

Ron: Come on," Ron said cajolingly, giving the steering wheel a little shake, nearly there, come on…

The engine groaned. Narrow jets of steam were issuing from under the hood. Harry found himself gripping the edges of his seat very hard as they flew toward the lake.

The car gave a nasty wobble. Glancing out of his window, Harry saw the smooth, black, glassy surface of the water, a mile below. Ron's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The car wobbled again.

Ron: Come on.

They were over the lake — the castle was right ahead — Ron put his foot down. There was a loud clunk, a splutter, and the engine died completely.

On the train:

Taylor: When I see them they are so dead!

Grace: Calm down Taylor.

Taylor: How can I calm down my brother is not on this train. Percy, Fred, and George haven't seen them and Fred and George know everyone on this train.

Hermione: Well all we can do is hope that they are alright.

Back with Harry and Ron:

Ron: Uh-oh.

The nose of the car dropped. They were falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the solid castle wall.

Ron: Noooooo!

Ron swung the steering wheel around; they missed the dark stone wall by inches as the car turned in a great arc, soaring over the dark greenhouses, then the vegetable patch, and then out over the black lawns, losing altitude all the time. Ron let go of the steering wheel completely and pulled his wand out of his back pocket —

Ron: STOP! STOP!

Harry: WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE!

But it was too late—CRUNCH. With an earsplitting bang of metal on wood, they hit the thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from under the crumpled hood; Hedwig was shrieking in terror; a golf-ball-sized lump was throbbing on Harry's head where he had hit the windshield; and to his right, Ron let out a low, despairing groan.

Harry: Are you okay?

Ron: My wand. Look at my wand.

It had snapped, almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on by a few splinters. Harry opened his mouth to say he was sure they'd be able to mend it up at the school, but he never even got started. At that very

moment, something hit his side of the car with the force of a charging bull, sending him lurching sideways into Ron, just as an equally heavy blow hit the roof.

Ron: What's happen?

Ron gasped, staring through the windshield, and Harry looked around just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree they had hit was attacking them. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled boughs were pummeling every inch of the car it could reach.

Ron: Aaargh! Run for it! We're done for!"

But suddenly the floor of the car was vibrating — the engine had restarted.

Harry: Reverse!

The car shot backward.

Ron: That was close. Well done, car.

The car, however, had reached the end of its tether. With two sharp clunks, the doors flew open and Harry felt his seat tip sideways: next thing he knew he was sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thuds told him that the car was ejecting their luggage from the trunk; Hedwig's cage flew through the air and burst open; she rose out of it with an angry screech and sped off toward the castle without a backward look. Then, dented, scratched, and steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.

Ron: Come back! Dad'll kill me! Can you believe our luck? Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get one that hits back.

Harry: Come on, we'd better get up to the school…

It wasn't at all the triumphant arrival they had pictured. Stiff, cold, and bruised, they seized the ends of their trunks and began dragging them up the grassy slope, toward the great oak front doors.

Ron: I think the feast's already started. Hey — Harry — come and look — it's the Sorting!"

Harry hurried over and, together, he and Ron peered in at the Great Hall. Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, Harry saw a long line of scared-looking first years filing into the Hall. Ginny and Amy was among them, easily visible because of their vivid red hair. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, a bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun, was placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers. Every year, this aged old hat, patched, frayed, and dirty, sorted new students into the four Hogwarts houses (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin). Harry's eyes wandered past him to where Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, Harry saw Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Hagrid, huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.

Harry: Hang on. There's an empty chair at the staff table… Where's Snape?"

Ron: Maybe he's ill!

Harry: Maybe he's left, because he missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again!

Ron: Or he might have been sacked! I mean, everyone hates him…

Snape: Or maybe, he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train.

Harry spun around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze, stood Severus Snape. He was smiling in a way that told Harry he and Ron were in very deep trouble.

Snape: Follow me.

Snape: You'd better get along to the hospital wing, Weasley, you're bleeding.

Ron: Not much. Professor, we want to watch our sisters get Sorted…

Snape: The Sorting Ceremony is over. Your sisters are also in Gryffindor.

Harry: Oh, good…

Snape: You will go straight up to your dormitory. I must return to the feast.

When the door had closed behind him, they rose and left the office, treading the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. The castle was quiet; it seemed that the feast was over. They walked past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armor, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last they reached the passage where the secret entrance to

Gryffindor Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

Fat Lady: Password?

Harry: Er...

They didn't know the new year's password, not having met a Gryffindor prefect yet, but help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying feet behind them and turned to see Hermione and Grace dashing toward them.

Hermione: There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors—someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car…

Harry: Well, we haven't been expelled.

Grace: You're not telling us you did fly here?

Ron: Skip the lecture, and tell us the new password.

Hermione: It's 'wattlebird,' but that's not the point —"

Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull Harry and Ron inside, leaving Hermione and Grace to scramble in after them.

Lee: Brilliant! Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for years…

Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the

Crowd.

Fred and George: Why couldn't we've come in the car, eh?

Charlie: Yeah it would've been so much fun. Much more fun than patrolling the stupid train.

Taylor: Next time bring us.

Ron was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but Harry could see one person who didn't look happy at all. Percy was visible over the heads of some excited first years, and he seemed to be trying to get near enough to start telling them off. Harry nudged Ron in the ribs and nodded in Percy's direction. Ron got the point at once.

Ron: Got to get upstairs — bit tired…

The two of them started pushing their way toward the door on the other side of the room, which led to a spiral staircase and the dormitories.

Harry: Night.

Harry said this to Hermione and Grace, who were wearing scowls just like Percy's.

They managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having their backs slapped, and gained the peace of the staircase. They hurried up it, right to the top, and at last reached the door of their old dormitory, which now had a sign on it saying second years. They entered the familiar, circular room, with its five four-posters hung with red velvet and its high, narrow windows. Their trunks had been brought up for them and stood at the ends of their beds.

Ron grinned guiltily at Harry.

Ron: I know I shouldn't've enjoyed that or anything, but…

The dormitory door flew open and in came the other second year Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom.

Seamus: Unbelievable!

Dean: Cool.

Neville: Amazing.

Harry couldn't help it. He grinned, too.