AN: Mostly a filler before the start of action.

Just a few minutes before the arrival of ministry workers"

Ron was relieved to see him but it was Hermione who questioned " where were you Harry? Why does it seem like you ran a marathon?"

Harry shrugged and replied " while we were running Into The Woods, stray branch caught my shirt. I had to untangle it and during that I lost site of you. I was searching for you from then."

something told Hermione that Harry was lying But she let it go at that moment as there were many others with them.

" we need to get away from here Harry" Hermione said earnestly. The death eaters may come here any moment.

Harry replied " I don't think so Hermione." just as he was about to continue they heard voice yell "MORSDRE"

the dark mark of Lord Voldemort was cast in the sky.

After a few minutes some ministry workers arrived and one of them questioned " who here has cast the dark mark?"

The others were not in a questioning mode and immediately cast multiple stunners at the kids.

Harry who's reactions had been honed due to his training immediately got hold of both Hermione and Ron and pulled them down. The stunners missed them entirely and flew into the bushes behind them. Harry was about to retaliate when he heard Mr Weasley screaming "STOP! That's my son!"

Harry's hair stopped blowing about. He raised his head a little higher. The wizard in front of him had lowered his wand. He rolled over and saw Mr. Weasley striding toward them, looking terrified. "Ron — Harry" — his voice sounded shaky — "Hermione — are you all right?"

"Out of the way, Arthur," said a cold, curt voice. It was Mr. Crouch, accompanied by other Ministry wizards, closing in on them. Harry stood up to face them, and Mr. Crouch's face was filled with rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do that!" said Harry, pointing at the skull. "We didn't do anything!" added Ron, rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "Why did you attack us?"

"Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr. Crouch, his wand still pointed at Ron. He looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Barty," whispered a witch in a dressing gown, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to—"

"Where did the Mark come from, you three?" asked Mr. Weasley quickly.

"Over there," said Hermione shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice. "There was someone behind the trees... they shouted an incantation—"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mr. Crouch, disbelief etched on his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy—"

But the other Ministry wizards didn't think it was likely that Harry, Ron, or Hermione had conjured the skull. Instead, they raised their wands again and pointed in the direction Hermione had indicated, peering through the dark trees.

"We're too late," said the witch in the dressing gown, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said a wizard with a brown beard. It was Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. "Our Stunners went right through those trees... There's a good chance we got them..."

"Amos, be careful!" warned a few wizards as Mr. Diggory marched into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish, her hands covering her mouth.

A few seconds later, they heard Mr. Diggory shout. "Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's—but—blimey..."

"You've got someone?" Mr. Crouch asked disbelievingly. "Who? Who is it?"

As Mr. Diggory returned with a limp figure in his arms, Harry recognized the tea towel at once. It was Winky, Mr. Crouch's house-elf. Mr. Crouch did not react as Mr. Diggory laid the elf at his feet. The others stared at him, awaiting his response.

"This—cannot—be," Mr. Crouch said jerkily. "No—"

He moved to where he found Winky and searched the area. However, there was no one else there.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr. Crouch added coldly.

"But she was frightened!" Hermione protested angrily. "Your elf is scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

Mr. Crouch took a step back, looking disdainfully at Winky. "I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said coldly. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky continued sobbing, and the others felt a mix of sympathy and frustration. Harry crouched down and hugged Winky, surprising the elf. "It's going to be okay, Winky," he said gently. "You can work for me if you want." Winky looked up hopefully, but she still felt unsure about her worth. "You are a good elf," Harry reassured her. "Clean yourself up, and you can come to Hogwarts. I'll call for you after settling things."

The others were moved by Harry's compassion, and they respected his decision. Harry had shown kindness and understanding even in a tense situation, and Winky seemed comforted by the prospect of a new beginning."The way they were treating Winky!" said Hermione furiously. "Mr. Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time... and Mr. Crouch! He knows she didn't do it, and he's still going to sack her! He didn't care how frightened she'd been or how upset she was—it was like she wasn't even human!"

"Well, she's not," said Ron.

Hermione turned on him, her eyes blazing. "That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. It's disgusting the way—"

"Hermione, I agree with you," said Mr. Weasley quickly, trying to steer the conversation. "But now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Ron. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr. Weasley tensely.

As they approached the campsite, a crowd of frightened witches and wizards had gathered. They bombarded Mr. Weasley with questions, wondering who conjured the Dark Mark and if Voldemort had returned. Mr. Weasley reassured them, and they made their way back to their tent.

Inside, they found Bill with a bleeding arm, Charlie with a torn shirt, and Percy with a bloody nose. Fred, George, and Ginny appeared unharmed but shaken.

"Did you get them, Dad?" Bill asked sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Mr. Weasley. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Ron's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

The others were stunned. Ron's wand, Mr. Crouch's elf? The situation sounded bizarre.

Percy, ever rigid about rules, argued that Mr. Crouch was right to get rid of an elf that disobeyed him. But Hermione vehemently defended Winky, emphasizing that she didn't do anything wrong.

Amid the debate, Ron asked why the Dark Mark was such a big deal. Hermione explained that it was Voldemort's symbol, and it hadn't been seen for thirteen years. It was a terrifying sign associated with death and destruction.

Bill added that it frightened the Death Eaters away, but they couldn't prove who conjured it. As the night wore on, they all knew that the events marked the beginning of something ominous and dangerous. The Dark Mark's appearance had rekindled fears and anxieties, reminding everyone of the terrible days when Voldemort's power was at its peak. The situation was far from settled, and they could only brace themselves for what lay . Weasley insisted, "Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened, she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours of sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

Harry climbed back into his bunk, his mind filled with swirling thoughts. He knew he should feel exhausted; it was nearly three in the morning, after all and he has expended quiet a bit of magic. But he felt wide-awake, unable to shake off the worry that gripped him.

It had only been three days since his scar had started burning, yet it felt like an eternity. And tonight, the Dark Mark had appeared in the sky, a sinister sign that hadn't been seen in thirteen years. What did all these events signify? Was Voldemort growing stronger?

Harry's mind drifted to the letter he had written to Sirius before leaving Privet Drive. Had Sirius received it? When would he reply? The questions nagged at him, but no comforting flying fantasies came to his mind this time to ease him into sleep. He started doing meditative exercises he read in the magical theory book and slowly drifted to uneasy sleep. The weight of the coming days and unknown dangers hung heavy on his heart.

Mr. Weasley woke them after only a few hours of sleep. Using magic, he swiftly packed up the tents, and they left the campsite as fast as they could. As they passed Mr. Roberts at the door of his cottage, they noticed his strange and dazed appearance, and he wished them a vague "Merry Christmas."

"He'll be all right," Mr. Weasley assured them quietly as they walked onto the moor. "Sometimes, when a person's memory is modified, it makes them disoriented for a while. And that was a big thing they had to make him forget."

As they approached the Portkeys, they heard urgent voices from the gathered crowd. Basil, the keeper of the Portkeys, was surrounded by witches and wizards all eager to leave the campsite. After a quick discussion with Basil, they joined the queue and managed to use an old rubber tire as their Portkey to return to Stoatshead Hill before sunrise.

Exhausted and hungry, they walked back through Ottery St. Catchpole toward the Burrow. When they arrived, Mrs. Weasley rushed out to meet them in the front yard, looking pale and worried. She had been waiting anxiously for their return, clutching a rolled-up copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!" Mrs. Weasley cried as she hugged Mr. Weasley tightly. The newspaper fell from her hand, and Harry saw the headline: "SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP," with a picture of the Dark Mark in the to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together. "Ouch! Mum — you're strangling us —" "I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs. Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.L.s? Oh Fred . . . George . . ." "Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr. Weasley soothingly, prising her off the twins and leading her back toward the house. "Bill," he added in an undertone, "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says. . . ." When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs. Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr. Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr. Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked over his shoulder. "I knew it," said Mr. Weasley heavily. "Ministry blunders . . . culprits not apprehended . . .valued members of society injured...Abraxas Blishwick dead, Theodore fawley dead, Lucious Malfoy injured badly... lax security . . . Dark wizards running unchecked . . . national disgrace . . . Who wrote this? Ah . . . of course . . . Rita Skeeter."

she has really spun the story in a different way. While it was the death eaters who attacked and were rebuffed by a masked Vigilante Rita portrayed The Attack was orchestrated by the masked Vigilante on the pure blood faction. No mention was made about the Muggles who were being tortured by the deatheater's. Harry who was hearing to Mr Weasley reading the newspaper got angry but he controlled himself. He started thinking " last night I had the element of surprise. The next time they will be more prepared. I have to train more. Professor trewalney's Prophecy from last year is to believed then Voldemort would rise again. Think it's time I shared my dream with my friends. I am absolutely sure that the bundle that was commanding pettigrew in the dream is Voldemort."

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry couldn't hold back, "has Hedwig arrived with any letters for me?"

Mrs. Weasley appeared distracted. "Hedwig, dear? No, there hasn't been any post at all."

Curious, Ron and Hermione looked at Harry, who gave them a meaningful look. "Alright, if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"

"Sure thing," Ron replied eagerly. "Hermione?"

"Yes, let's go," Hermione agreed quickly. The three of them left the kitchen and headed upstairs.

As soon as they were in Ron's attic room, Ron asked, "What's going on, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath and confessed, "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again."

Hermione's immediate reaction was to start suggesting various references and people to consult, while Ron looked stunned.

"He wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who?" Ron asked, trying to make sense of the situation. "Last time your scar hurt, he was at Hogwarts, right?"

"I'm sure he wasn't at Privet Drive," Harry affirmed. "But I had a dream about him and Peter—Wormtail. I can't remember all of it now but i have noted it down to the best of my ability. They were plotting to kill someone."

He paused, almost thinking that the person they were planning to kill was him, but he held back, not wanting to add to Hermione's horror and rationalizing that voldemort would want to kill him in person, not having someone else do it.

"Maybe it was just a nightmare," Ron tried to reassure him.

Harry, however, remained troubled. "I don't think so Ron? My scar hurts, and three days later, the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign appears in the sky again. Its not a coincidence."

"Don't say his name!" Ron whispered, clearly uncomfortable.

Ignoring Ron's remark, Harry continued, "And remember what Professor Trelawney said at the end of last year?"

Hermione scoffed, dismissing Professor Trelawney's predictions. But Harry persisted, telling them about the trance-like state she was in and how she had foretold Voldemort's return.

"Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?" Hermione inquired. "Are you expecting a letter?"

"I told Sirius about my scar," Harry explained. "I'm waiting for his reply."

"Smart move," Ron acknowledged, looking more at ease. "I bet Sirius will know what to do."

"I hope so," Harry replied, although deep down, he felt uneasy about not receiving any response yet. He gazed out of the window, feeling a sense of foreboding. Something sinister was afoot and he knew it would pull him right into the middle of it but this time he would be prepared. Unlike the last 3 years this time he would face the challenges head on.

"Come on, let's take a break from all this," Ron suggested. "Let's play some Quidditch in the orchard. Three on three, with Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George. You can even try out the Wronski Feint!"

Harry smiled at Ron's attempt to cheer him up but said " I am sorry Ron but I have to prepare for my Ancient rune's exam"

Ron and Hermione we shocked on hearing this. Ron immediately bombarded Harry with questions " what are you talking mate? Have you gone barmy?"

Harry laughed and replied " no ron but with everything going on around me I thought I don't want to spend anymore time in divination. I don't have any grasp for it and with how the things are going I will need all the help I can get. Ancient runes is an interesting subject."

Hermione smiled and said " that's wonderful Harry. I think I still have my last years notes. I can help you revise for the exam."

Harry felt elated that Hermione would spend time with him but at the same time he is conflicting emotions about her told him to distance himself from her and move on. "She is with Ronald, your best friend. Don't destroy your friendship with them both for something that may never happen." he heard his inner voice say and replied thanks Hermione but I already have prepared my notes and would like to revise by myself. I will definitely ask for your help if I get stuck with something.

While Hermione was a little hurt that Harry didn't want her help she felt relieved that he still considered her a friend and would ask for health if we need it. This also give both her and Ron more time to spend among themselves.

Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was spending much time at home during the following week. They would leave before the rest of the family woke up and return late after dinner each night. "It's been absolute chaos," Percy informed them importantly on Sunday evening, just before their return to Hogwarts. "I've been dealing with complaints all week. People keep sending Howlers, and if you don't open them immediately, they explode. My desk is covered in scorch marks, and my best quill is reduced to cinders." Ginny, busy repairing her copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi using sellotape, asked curiously, "Why are they sending Howlers?" "They are complaining about the security at the World Cup," Percy explained. "They want compensation for their damaged property. Mundungus Fletcher even filed a claim for a twelve-bedroom tent with an en-suite Jacuzzi, but I know he was sleeping under a makeshift shelter."

Harry seeing Ginny's predicament said " Mrs. Weasley why don't you cast "reparo" charm on Ginny's book. It would be a lot better than the sellotape?"

Molly Weasley was shocked. Why did it never occur to her? It was such a simple spell after all. She nodded and said " that's true Harry dear. I don't know why i never thought of that." and casted "Reparo" at Ginny's books and other second hand items. Mrs. Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock, which was uniquely informative but useless for telling the time. The clock had nine golden hands, each representing a member of the Weasley family and indicating their whereabouts, such as "home," "school," "work," "traveling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," and "mortal peril." Mr. Weasley's hand was still pointing to "work." "Your father hasn't had to work on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "They're overworking him. His dinner will be ruined if he doesn't come home soon." "Father feels he has to make up for his mistake at the match," Percy added. "Truth be told, he was unwise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first." Mrs. Weasley interjected, "Don't blame your father for what Rita Skeeter wrote! If your dad hadn't said anything, she would have criticized the Ministry for not commenting." Bill chimed in, sharing his own experience with Rita Skeeter, "Rita never makes anyone look good. She once interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers and called me 'a long-haired pillock.'" "It is a bit long," Mrs. Weasley suggested. "No, Mum," Bill defended his long hair, causing everyone to laugh, even Mrs. Weasley. The discussion continued until Mr. Weasley's return. He seemed exhausted, mentioning that Rita Skeeter had been causing trouble and that Bertha's disappearance would make headlines the next day. The family eventually dispersed to prepare for their return to Hogwarts. Upstairs, Ron expressed his displeasure at his dress robes, and Mrs. Weasley explained that everyone had to wear them for formal occasions. When Harry showed his bottle-green dress robes, Ron wished he had similar ones. Harry replied "once we are at HOGWARTS we i can help you transfigure them into something better Ron."

As Harry awoke the next morning, a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom filled the air. The heavy rain continued to splatter against the window as he dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, knowing they would change into their school robes on the Hogwarts Express.

Heading downstairs with Ron, Fred, and George, they encountered a flustered Mrs. Weasley at the foot of the stairs.

"Arthur!" she called up the staircase. "Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!"

Mr. Weasley rushed past them with his robes on back-to-front and disappeared from sight. In the kitchen, they found Mrs. Weasley searching anxiously for a quill.

"I've got a quill here somewhere!" she said. "And here's parchment and ink. Arthur needs to take notes."

Amos Diggory's head appeared in the fireplace, looking like a large, bearded egg. He spoke quickly, unperturbed by the sparks and flames.

"... Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-'ems—please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there—"

"Here!" Mrs. Weasley handed a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a quill to Mr. Weasley.

"—it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it," continued Mr. Diggory's head. "I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off—if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur—"

Mr. Weasley, ready to take notes, asked, "What does Mad-Eye say happened?"

"Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house but was ambushed by his dustbins."

"What did the dustbins do?" Mr. Weasley asked, scribbling frantically.

"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell," Mr. Diggory replied. "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up—"

Mr. Weasley groaned. "And what about the intruder?"

"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr. Diggory's head, rolling its eyes. "Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it—think of his record—we've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department—what are exploding dustbins worth?"

"Might be a caution," said Mr. Weasley, still writing rapidly, his brow furrowed. "Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?"

"I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window," said Mr. Diggory, "but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties."

"All right, I'm off," Mr. Weasley said, pocketing the parchment with his notes and rushing out of the kitchen.

As Mr. Weasley left, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen, and the conversation turned to Mad-Eye Moody and his escapade. After some time, Mr. Weasley returned, his robes now on the right way.

"I'd better hurry—you have a good term, boys," said Mr. Weasley to Harry, Ron, and the twins, preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"

"Of course I will," she replied. "You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine."

Mr. Weasley vanished, and the others started discussing Mad-Eye and the changes at Hogwarts while waiting for the arrival of Bill and Charlie. After their farewells, they headed to King's Cross station in Muggle taxis due to the rain.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione successfully passed through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and there they found the Hogwarts Express waiting. The trio stowed their luggage in a compartment and greeted familiar faces. They then got down to greet the family.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye. "Why?" said Fred keenly. "You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it . . . it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

As Harry listened to the conversation something triggered in his memory. Voldemort was also planning something at Hogwarts. Was this a coincidence? He planned to investigate further on reaching Hogwarts.

"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train. "Why?" said George impatiently. "You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it. . . ." "A bit of what?" said Ron. But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors. "Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but . . . well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with . . . one thing and another." "Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?" "You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting — mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules —" "What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together. "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you. . . . Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?" The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move. "Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"

"whatever it is there is no use now shouting fred. We will find out soon enough." Harry replied his mind working in overdrive to connect the dots.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting. "Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what —" "Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door. ". . . Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore — the man's such a Mudblood-lover — and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do. . . ." Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice. "So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share. Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, extremely forgetful boy who had been brought up by his formidable witch of a grandmother. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking "Troy — Mullet — Moran!" but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way. After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm.

Harry too pulled out his runes notes and started revising as he would be having the exam in two days. Neville listened jealously to the others' conversation as they relived the Cup match. "Gran didn't want to go," he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"It was," said Ron. "Look at this, Neville. . . ." He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum. "Oh wow," said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand. "We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box —" "For the first and last time in your life, Weasley." Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar. "Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly.

"Weasley . . . what is that?" said Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious. Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled. "Look at this!" said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean — they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety. . . ."

Harry not wanting his friend to be humiliated said in a drawl "So Malfoy…how is your father doing? Discharged from St. Mungos yet? It was such a tragedy…..that he was too weak to defend himself."

Malfoys face became red as he said " watch your mouth potter. Or else …."

Harry coolly replied "Or else what? You are nothing Malfoy. You are a pathetic, sniveling worm who is not worthy of my attention. Now begone." Saying that he muttered "collaptorus" and closed the train door causing Malfoy to fall on his ass.

Hermione quietly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron —"

"Him! Get to me!? As if!" said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp. Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He didn't talk much as they changed into their school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station. As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads. "Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform. "All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!" First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid. "Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.