Chapter 87: Back On The Train

There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when I awoke next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as I got dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt; we would change into our school robes on the Hogwarts Express.

Me, Harry, Fred, and George had just reached the first-floor landing on our way down to breakfast, when Mum appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.

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

We flattened ourselves against the wall as Dad came rushing past with his robes on back-to-front and hurtled out of sight. When we entered the kitchen, we saw Mum rummaging anxiously in the drawers - "I've got a quill here somewhere!" - and Das bending over the fire, talking to Amos Diggory through the Floo. It startled Harry. He had never seen a Floo call before.

"...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!" said Mum breathlessly, pushing a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a crumpled quill into Dad's hands.

"- it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it," said 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 -"

"What does Mad-Eye say happened?" asked Dad, preparing to take notes.

Mr. Diggory's head rolled its eyes. "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?"

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

"And what about the intruder?" groaned Dad.

"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr. Diggory's head, rolling its eyes again. "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. 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," Dad said, and he stuffed the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dashed out of the kitchen again.

Mr. Diggory's head looked around at Mum.

"Sorry about this, Molly," it said, more calmly, "bothering you so early and everything...but Arthur's the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today. Why he had to choose last night..."

"Never mind, Amos," said Mum. "Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?"

"Oh go on, then," said Mr. Diggory.

Mum took a piece of buttered toast from a stack on the kitchen table, put it into the fire tongs, and transferred it into Mr. Diggory's mouth.

"Fanks," he said in a muffled voice, and then, with a small pop, vanished.

"I'd better hurry - you have a good term, boys, said Dad to Harry, the twins, and I, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?"

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

As Dad vanished, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen.

"Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill asked. "What's he been up to now."

"He says someone tried to break into his house last night."

"Mad-Eye Moody?" said George, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter -"

"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," said Mum in a stern voice.

"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?" said Fred quietly as Mum left the room. "Birds of a feather..."

"Moody was a great wizard in his time," said Bill.

"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" said Charlie.

"Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?" said Fred. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything."

"Who is Mad-Eye?" asked Harry.

"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry," said Charlie. "I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror, one of the best...a Dark wizard catcher," he added, seeing Harry's blank look.

"Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though...the families of people he caught, mainly...and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."

"Are you gonna see us off?" I asked my oldest brothers. Bill and Charlie gave a nod, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work. Fine. I didn't want to see his face last anyways.

"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told us. "Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me."

"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" said George seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."

Mum had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary Muggle taxis to take them into London.

The journey was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that we were jammed in the back of the taxis with their trunks. Crookshanks was set off by the twins fireworks, and by the time we entered London, Harry, Hermione, and I were all severely scratched.

We got into the platform in groups today; Harry, Hermione, and I went first. The Hogwarts Express was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. It never ceased to amaze me, the train.

Pig became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. We set off to find seats, and were soon stowing our luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. They we hopped back down onto the platform to say goodbye to Mum, Bill, and Charlie.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

"Why?" said Fred.

"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."

"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?" I asked.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mum rushed us toward the train doors.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as we climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mum. "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!" I said, irritably. "What do 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, Fred, George, and I 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 Mum, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"

But Mum only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.

The three of us went back to our compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. I undid my trunk, pulled out those hideous dress robes, and flung them over Pig's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," I said, 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 ours. Harry and I listened, and heard Malfoy's annoying ass voice

"...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."

"Durmstrang is another wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yes," spat Hermione, "and it's got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."

"I think I've heard of it," I said, not really thinking about it at all. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.

"Er - why not?" said Harry.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets," said Hermione, in her In know everything voice.

"Come off it," I said as I started to laugh. "Durmstrang has got to be about the same size as Hogwarts. How are you going to hide a great big castle?"

"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione. "Everyone knows that...well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."

"Just you, then," I teased. "So go on, how do you hide a place like Hogwarts?"

"It's bewitched," said Hermione, as if I should have known all along. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE."

"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?" I asked.

"Maybe," said Hermione, shrugging, "or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable -"

"Come again?"asked Harry.

"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"

"Er...if you say so," said Harry.

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," I said in a dreamy voice. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident. Shame his mother likes him."

"You're insufferable." said Hermione, trying to hide her grin.

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 us to share.

As Harry dozed off after eating some of the cakes, Hermione tries to sit there and actually read off facts from Hogwarts, A History. Normally I would tune her out, but for some reason, I felt compelled to actually listen to what she was saying. Not because of the fact that I was interested in what she was reading, that was far from the truth.

It was just that for some reason, her voice was intriguing me. As if I hadn't heard it almost every day since September 1, 1991.

Several of our friends looked in on us as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus, Dean, and Neville. 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 an 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.

Neville listened jealously to Harry (as he had woken up when they arrived), Seamus, Dean, and my conversation as we relived the Cup match.

"Gran didn't want to go," he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"It was!" I said as I rummaged through my trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum. "Look at this, Neville!"

"Oh wow," said Neville enviously as I tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.

"We saw him right up close, as well. We were in the Top Box -"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley." said Malfoy, who had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood the beluga and the him back whales (Hermione had shown me a book on Muggle sea creatures over the summer) that were Crabbe and Goyle, 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 Pig's cage. A sleeve of my dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious.

I tried to quickly stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick. He seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" said Malfoy ecstatically, holding up my 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..."

"Eat shit, Malfoy!" I said, snatching them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter.

"So...going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know...you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won..."

"What are you going on about, tosser?"

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," said Hermione, looking over the top of her textbook.

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago, heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry. Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley...yes...they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him..."

Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared.

I was completely livid. I got up and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"Ron!" said Hermione, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "Reparo!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well, making it look like he knows everything and we don't!" I snarled. "'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry'. Dad could've got a promotion any time, he just likes it where he is."

"Of course he does," said Hermione, calmly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron -"

"Him! Get to me!? As if!" I said, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

I saw Harry and Hermione share a look that I knew meant that they felt bad for me, making me even more irritated.

My bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. I didn't talk much as we changed into our school robes, and still didn't have shit to say when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

I hated that bloody wanker. Always speaking down on my family and my father for his job. So what if Dad didn't want to work in a better department. He was doing what hr loved. Although, it would have been nicer if he made more money for us. Still, I respected my father for doing what he loved and making a difference. At least he wasn't like Malfoy's evil woman looking father.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and I left my dress robes over Pig as we left the train. 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 our heads.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, as we saw 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!"

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as we inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Hermione, Neville, and I 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.