Harry had a troubled night’s sleep. His parents wove in and out of his dreams, never speaking; Mrs. Weasley sobbed over Kreacher’s dead body watched by Ron and Hermione, who were wearing crowns, and yet again Harry found himself walking down a corridor ending in a locked door. He awoke abruptly with his scar prickling to find Ron already dressed and talking to him.
“… better hurry up, Mum’s going ballistic, she says we’re going to miss the train. …”
There was a lot of commotion in the house. From what he heard as he dressed at top speed, Harry gathered that Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs into the hall; Mrs. Black and Mrs. Weasley were both screaming at the top of their voices.
“— COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS —”
“— FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS —”
Hermione came hurrying into the room looking flustered just as Harry was putting on his trainers; Hedwig was swaying on her shoulder, and she was carrying a squirming Crookshanks in her arms.
“Mum and Dad just sent Hedwig back” — the owl fluttered obligingly over and perched on top of her cage — “are you ready yet?”
“Nearly — Ginny all right?” Harry asked, shoving on his glasses.
“Mrs. Weasley’s patched her up,” said Hermione. “But now Mad-Eye’s complaining that we can’t leave unless Sturgis Podmore’s here, otherwise the guard will be one short.”
“Guard?” said Harry. “We have to go to King’s Cross with a guard?”
“You have to go to King’s Cross with a guard,” Hermione corrected him.
“Why?” said Harry irritably. “I thought Voldemort was supposed to be lying low, or are you telling me he’s going to jump out from behind a dustbin to try and do me in?”
“I don’t know, it’s just what Mad-Eye says,” said Hermione distractedly, looking at her watch. “But if we don’t leave soon we’re definitely going to miss the train. …”
“WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!” Mrs. Weasley bellowed and Hermione jumped as though scalded and hurried out of the room. Harry seized Hedwig, stuffed her unceremoniously into her cage, and set off downstairs after Hermione, dragging his trunk.
Mrs. Black’s portrait was howling with rage but nobody was bothering to close the curtains over her; all the noise in the hall was bound to rouse her again anyway.
“Harry, you’re to come with me and Tonks,” shouted Mrs. Weasley over the repeated screeches of “MUDBLOODS! SCUM! CREATURES OF DIRT!” “Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor’s going to deal with the luggage. … Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!”
A bearlike black dog had appeared at Harry’s side as Harry clambered over the various trunks cluttering the hall to get to Mrs. Weasley.
“Oh honestly …” said Mrs. Weasley despairingly, “well, on your own head be it!”
She wrenched open the front door and stepped out into the weak September sunlight. Harry and the dog followed her. The door slammed behind them and Mrs. Black’s screeches were cut off instantly.
“Where’s Tonks?” Harry said, looking around as they went down the stone steps of number twelve, which vanished the moment they reached the pavement.
“She’s waiting for us just up here,” said Mrs. Weasley stiffly, averting her eyes from the lolloping black dog beside Harry.
An old woman greeted them on the corner. She had tightly curled gray hair and wore a purple hat shaped like a porkpie.
“Wotcher, Harry,” she said, winking. “Better hurry up, hadn’t we, Molly?” she added, checking her watch.
“I know, I know,” moaned Mrs. Weasley, lengthening her stride, “but Mad-Eye wanted to wait for Sturgis. … If only Arthur could have got us cars from the Ministry again … but Fudge wouldn’t let him borrow so much as an empty ink bottle these days. … How Muggles can stand traveling without magic …”
But the great black dog gave a joyful bark and gamboled around them, snapping at pigeons, and chasing its own tail. Harry couldn’t help laughing. Sirius had been trapped inside for a very long time. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips in an almost Aunt Petunia-ish way.
It took them twenty minutes to reach King’s Cross by foot and nothing more eventful happened during that time than Sirius scaring a couple of cats for Harry’s entertainment. Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through onto platform nine and three quarters, where the Hogwarts Express stood belching sooty steam over a platform packed with departing students and their families. Harry inhaled the familiar smell and felt his spirits soar. … He was really going back. …
“I hope the others make it in time,” said Mrs. Weasley anxiously, staring behind her at the wrought-iron arch spanning the platform, through which new arrivals would come.
“Nice dog, Harry!” called a tall boy with dreadlocks.
“Thanks, Lee,” said Harry, grinning, as Sirius wagged his tail frantically.
“Oh good,” said Mrs. Weasley, sounding relieved, “here’s Alastor with the luggage, look …”
A porter’s cap pulled low over his mismatched eyes, Moody came limping through the archway pushing a cart full of their trunks.
“All okay,” he muttered to Mrs. Weasley and Tonks. “Don’t think we were followed. …”
Seconds later, Mr. Weasley emerged onto the platform with Ron and Hermione. They had almost unloaded Moody’s luggage cart when Fred, George, and Ginny turned up with Lupin.
“No trouble?” growled Moody.
“Nothing,” said Lupin.
“I’ll still be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore,” said Moody. “That’s the second time he’s not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus.”
“Well, look after yourselves,” said Lupin, shaking hands all round. He reached Harry last and gave him a clap on the shoulder. “You too, Harry. Be careful.”
“Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled,” said Moody, shaking Harry’s hand too. “And don’t forget, all of you — careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don’t put it in a letter at all.”
“It’s been great meeting all of you,” said Tonks, hugging Hermione and Ginny. “We’ll see you soon, I expect.”
A warning whistle sounded; the students still on the platform started hurrying onto the train.
“Quick, quick,” said Mrs. Weasley distractedly, hugging them at random and catching Harry twice. “Write. … Be good. … If you’ve forgotten anything we’ll send it on. … Onto the train, now, hurry. …”
For one brief moment, the great black dog reared onto its hind legs and placed its front paws on Harry’s shoulders, but Mrs. Weasley shoved Harry away toward the train door hissing, “For heaven’s sake act more like a dog, Sirius!”
“See you!” Harry called out of the open window as the train began to move, while Ron, Hermione, and Ginny waved beside him. The figures of Tonks, Lupin, Moody, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shrank rapidly but the black dog was bounding alongside the window, wagging its tail; blurred people on the platform were laughing to see it chasing the train, and then they turned the corner, and Sirius was gone.
“He shouldn’t have come with us,” said Hermione in a worried voice.
“Oh lighten up,” said Ron, “he hasn’t seen daylight for months, poor bloke.”
Well,” said Fred, clapping his hands together, “can’t stand around chatting all day, we’ve got business to discuss with Lee. See you later,” and he and George disappeared down the corridor to the right.
The train was gathering still more speed, so that the houses outside the window flashed past and they swayed where they stood.
“Shall we go and find a compartment, then?” Harry asked Ron and Hermione.
Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.
“Er,” said Ron.
“We’re — well — Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage,” Hermione said awkwardly.
Ron wasn’t looking at Harry; he seemed to have become intensely interested in the fingernails on his left hand.
“Oh,” said Harry. “Right. Fine.”
“I don’t think we’ll have to stay there all journey,” said Hermione quickly. “Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time.”
“Fine,” said Harry again. “Well, I-I might see you later, then.”
“Yeah, definitely,” said Ron, casting a shifty, anxious look at Harry. “It’s a pain having to go down there, I’d rather — but we have to — I mean, I’m not enjoying it, I’m not Percy,” he finished defiantly.
“I know you’re not,” said Harry and he grinned. But as Hermione and Ron dragged their trunks, Crookshanks, and a caged Pigwidgeon off toward the engine end of the train, Harry felt an odd sense of loss. He had never traveled on the Hogwarts Express without Ron.
“Come on,” Ginny told him, “if we get a move on we’ll be able to save them places.”
“Right,” said Harry, picking up Hedwig’s cage in one hand and the handle of his trunk in the other. They struggled off down the corridor, peering through the glass-paneled doors into the compartments they passed, which were already full. Harry could not help noticing that a lot of people stared back at him with great interest and that several of them nudged their neighbors and pointed him out. After he had met this behavior in five consecutive carriages he remembered that the Daily Prophet had been telling its readers all summer what a lying show-off he was. He wondered bleakly whether the people now staring and whispering believed the stories.
In the very last carriage they met Neville Longbottom, Harry’s fellow fifth-year Gryffindor, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor.
“Hi, Harry,” he panted. “Hi, Ginny. … Everywhere’s full. … I can’t find a seat. …”
“What are you talking about?” said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. “There’s room in this one, there’s only Loony Lovegood in here —”
Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone.
“Don’t be silly,” said Ginny, laughing, “she’s all right.”
She slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside it. Harry and Neville followed.
“Hi, Luna,” said Ginny. “Is it okay if we take these seats?”
The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. Harry knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps, or that she was reading a magazine upside down. Her eyes ranged over Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded.
“Thanks,” said Ginny, smiling at her.
Harry and Neville stowed the three trunks and Hedwig’s cage in the luggage rack and sat down. The girl called Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stared and stared at Harry, who had taken the seat opposite her and now wished he had not.
“Had a good summer, Luna?” Ginny asked.
“Yes,” said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harry. “Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You’re Harry Potter,” she added.
“I know I am,” said Harry.
Neville chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes upon him instead.
“And I don’t know who you are.”
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