18. The Whomping Willow
The end of the summer holidays came too quickly for Hope's liking. She was excited to return to Hogwarts, but her month at The Burrow had been an absolute blast. The cozy, chaotic house had started to feel like a second home.
On their last evening, Mrs. Weasley conjured up a feast, making sure to include all of Harry's favorite dishes and ending with Hope's favorite dessert—a mouthwatering treacle pudding. Fred and George wrapped up the night with a spectacular display of Filibuster fireworks, filling the kitchen with bursts of red and blue stars that bounced off the walls and ceiling for nearly half an hour. Then came a final mug of hot chocolate before heading to bed.
Morning came far too soon. They were up at the crack of dawn, but somehow, the rush to leave seemed never-ending. Mrs. Weasley dashed around in a frenzy, hunting for spare socks and quills. People kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed and clutching pieces of toast. Out in the yard, Mr. Weasley nearly broke his neck tripping over a stray chicken while carrying Ginny's trunk to the car.
Hope wasn't sure how they planned to fit nine people, seven large trunks, three owls, and a rat into one small Ford Anglia. Then again, if Mr. Weasley could make it fly, she supposed he could make it roomier as well.
"Not a word to Molly," he whispered as he popped open the boot, revealing a magically expanded space where all the trunks fit with ease.
At last, they all piled into the car. Mrs. Weasley glanced into the back seat, where Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Hope, and Percy sat comfortably side by side.
"Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" she mused as she and Ginny climbed into the front, which had been stretched to resemble a park bench. "I mean, you'd never guess it was this roomy from the outside, would you?"
Hope stifled a chuckle as she and George shared a knowing grin.
Mr. Weasley started the engine, and they trundled out of the yard. Harry turned for one last look at The Burrow, barely getting a moment to wonder when he'd see it again before they were already turning back—George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes later, they skidded to a stop again so Fred could grab his broomstick. They had almost reached the motorway when Ginny let out a horrified shriek—she'd left her diary.
By the time she scrambled back into the car, they were running very late, and tensions were rising.
Mr. Weasley glanced at his watch, then at his wife. "Molly, dear—"
"No, Arthur." Mrs. Weasley's tone was firm.
"No one would see," he reasoned. "This little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed—it'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..."
"I said no, Arthur. Not in broad daylight."
Mrs. Weasley's voice left no room for argument.
They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to grab trolleys for their trunks, and they all hurried into the station.
"Percy first," Mrs. Weasley instructed as they neared the barrier. She glanced up at the clock overhead, her expression tightening—only five minutes left.
Percy strode forward without hesitation and disappeared. Mr. Weasley followed, then Fred and George.
"I'll take Ginny. You three come right after us," Mrs. Weasley told Harry, Hope, and Ron. She took Ginny's hand, and in a blink, they were gone.
"Let's go together. We've only got a minute," Ron said, turning to Harry and Hope.
Hope nodded, adjusting Markl securely atop her trunk. Harry did the same for Hedwig. The three of them lined up, Harry and Ron side by side, Hope just behind them. They bent low over the handles of their trolleys, braced themselves, and pushed forward, picking up speed as they neared the barrier. A few feet away, they broke into a run and—
CRASH.
The trolleys slammed into the barrier and bounced back violently. Hope, just behind them, managed to yank her trolley to a screeching stop before colliding into them. Ron's trunk toppled onto the floor with a heavy thud, Harry was thrown onto his back, and Hedwig's cage flew off, rolling across the station floor as she shrieked in protest.
People turned to stare. A nearby guard stormed over. "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?"
"Lost control of the trolley," Harry gasped, wincing as he clutched his ribs and pushed himself up.
Ron scrambled after Hedwig, who was still causing an uproar. Passersby muttered about cruelty to animals. Hope, meanwhile, pressed her hands against the now-solid barrier, running her fingers over the surface, as if sheer determination could open it.
"Why can't we get through?" Harry hissed.
"I dunno," Ron said, glancing around wildly. A dozen curious onlookers were still watching them.
"We're going to miss the train," Ron whispered. "I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself..."
"I didn't even know that was possible," Hope muttered. "Surely my dad would've warned me if it had happened before. Or one of your brothers would've mentioned it."
Harry's stomach twisted as he looked up at the station clock. Ten seconds... nine... He pushed his trolley forward cautiously, ramming it against the barrier with all his strength. The metal remained solid.
Three seconds... two... one...
"It's gone," Ron said, stunned. "The train's left. What if Mum and Dad can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?"
Harry let out a hollow laugh. "The Dursleys haven't given me pocket money for about six years."
Ron turned to Hope. She scoffed. "I don't even have wizard money."
Ron frowned and pressed his ear to the barrier. "Can't hear a thing." His voice was tense. "What do we do? I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back."
People were still staring, mostly because of Hedwig's ongoing shrieks. Even Markl was growing restless in his cage.
"We should go wait by the car," Harry said. "We're attracting too much atten—"
"Harry!" Ron cut him off, his eyes gleaming. "The car!"
Hope caught Ron's gaze and grinned. They turned to Harry in unison.
Harry hesitated. "What about it?"
"We can fly it to Hogwarts!" Ron said.
"But I thought—" Harry began.
"We're stuck, right? And we have to get to school, don't we? And even underage wizards are allowed to use magic in a real emergency. Section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Thingy..."
"Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery," Hope corrected.
"Yeah, that," Ron said quickly.
Harry looked between the two of them. His panic twisted into something else—excitement.
"Can you fly it?" he asked.
Ron grinned. "No problem." He spun his trolley around toward the exit. "C'mon, if we hurry, we can follow the Hogwarts Express!"
And they marched off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station, and back into the side road where the old Ford Anglia was parked.
Ron unlocked the cavernous boot with a series of taps from his wand. They heaved their trunks back in, put Hedwig and Markl on the back seat, and climbed into the front, with Hope squeezed between Ron and Harry.
"Check no one's watching," Ron muttered, tapping the ignition with his wand.
Harry stuck his head out of the window. Traffic rumbled along the main road ahead, but their street was empty.
"Okay," he said.
Ron pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard. Instantly, the car vanished—so did they. Hope could still feel the seat beneath her, the vibration of the engine, her hands resting on her knees. But as far as she could see, she had become a pair of floating eyeballs hovering above the ground in a dingy street full of parked cars.
"Let's go," Ron's voice came from her right.
The ground dropped away, the dirty buildings on either side shrinking as the car lifted higher. Within seconds, the whole of London stretched out below them, smoky and glittering in the evening light.
Then, with a loud pop, the car—and the three of them—reappeared.
"Uh oh," Ron muttered, jabbing at the Invisibility Booster. "It's faulty—"
He and Harry pounded on the button. The car vanished, flickered back, then disappeared again.
"Hold on!" Ron shouted, slamming his foot on the accelerator. The car shot into the low, woolly clouds, everything turning dull and foggy.
"Now what?" Harry asked, blinking at the solid mass of cloud surrounding them.
"We need to see the train to know what direction to go in," Ron replied.
"Dip back down—quickly!" Hope urged.
They dropped beneath the clouds, twisting in their seats to scan the ground below.
"I can see it!" Harry yelled. "Right ahead—there!" He pointed.
The Hogwarts Express streaked along the tracks below them like a scarlet snake.
"Due north," Ron said, checking the compass on the dashboard. "Okay, we'll check in every half hour or so. Hold on..." He pulled them back up through the clouds. A moment later, they burst into a brilliant blue sky.
It was like another world. The wheels skimmed the sea of fluffy clouds, the sun blindingly bright overhead.
"All we've got to worry about now are aeroplanes," Ron added.
They glanced at each other and burst into laughter, unable to stop. It was as if they had stepped into a dream.
Hope wondered why wizards didn't travel this way all the time. Passing through fluffy white clouds, the warm sunlight streaming into the car, a fat pack of toffees in the glove compartment, and the thought of Fred and George's jealous faces when they landed spectacularly on the Hogwarts lawn—it couldn't get better than this.
They made regular checks on the train as they flew north. London faded behind them, replaced by neat green fields, then purple moors, toy-like villages, and a sprawling city teeming with cars like tiny colored ants.
Several uneventful hours later, Hope had to admit the novelty was wearing off. The toffees had left them parched, and they had nothing to drink. Harry and Ron had pulled off their jumpers, and Hope tied her hair into a bun as it clung to her neck. Harry's glasses kept sliding down his sweaty nose. Hope fanned herself, staring blankly at the clouds, now far less interesting than before. She found herself longing for the train below, where you could buy ice-cold pumpkin juice from the trolley. Why hadn't they been able to get onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?
"Time to check the train again," Ron said, guiding the car lower.
As they dipped through the clouds, Ron yanked the wheel too hard. The car lurched violently.
Harry's door swung open.
With a startled yell, he tumbled halfway out, his fingers clamping desperately around the door handle, as Hedwig and Markl screeched in their jostled cages. "Ahh!"
"Harry!" Hope and Ron screamed, Hope's heart hammered as she lunged toward him.
Ron wrestled with the wheel, trying to steady the car. Hope braced herself against the seat and reached down, stretching her arms out. "Take my hand!"
"I'm trying!" Harry shouted, his grip slipping. "Your hands are all sweaty!"
Under normal circumstances, Hope would have been offended, but right now, she swallowed the retort. "Shut up and hold on!"
Harry swung his arm up again. Hope grabbed his wrist with one hand, then slid her grip lower to his forearm. She gritted her teeth, muscles straining as she hauled him upward, Harry pushing with his free hand against the car. Inch by inch, they pulled him back inside until, with one last heave, he collapsed onto the seat.
Harry slammed the door shut with a gasp and immediately locked it. Hope slumped back against her seat, exhausted.
Ron exhaled shakily. "That... was bloody close."
Harry and Hope gave him weak, breathless nods.
Hours later, as the sun dipped into their cloud floor, Ron cleared his throat. "Can't be much further, can it?"
"Try and keep it straight this time," Harry muttered, nervously gripping anything he could to stay in place.
Below them, the train wound its way past a snow-capped mountain. The sky had deepened to a rich, velvety blue.
Ron pushed the accelerator, sending them skyward again. But as he did, the engine gave a strange, high-pitched whine.
Hope's hand shot to the dashboard. The three of them exchanged uneasy glances.
"It's probably just tired," Ron said, though his voice lacked confidence. "It's never been this far before..."
They pretended not to notice as the whine grew louder. Stars blossomed in the darkness around them. Harry tugged his jumper back on, trying to ignore the way the windscreen wipers flapped feebly, as though in protest.
"Not far," Ron murmured, more to the car than to Harry or Hope. "Not far now." He patted the dashboard nervously.
When they flew back beneath the clouds a little while later, they had to squint through the darkness for a landmark they knew.
"There!" Harry shouted, making Markl and Hedwig jump. "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, losing speed.
"Come on," Ron coaxed, giving the steering wheel a little shake. "Nearly there, come on—"
The engine groaned. Narrow jets of steam hissed from under the bonnet. Harry found himself gripping the edges of his seat as they flew toward the lake.
The car wobbled. Hope glanced out her window and saw the smooth, black, glassy surface of the water a mile below. Ron's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. Another wobble.
"Come on," Ron muttered.
They were over the lake... the castle was right ahead... Ron pressed his foot down.
There was a loud clunk, a sputter, and the engine died completely.
"Uh oh," Ron whispered into the silence.
The nose of the car dropped. They were falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the solid castle wall.
"Noooooo!" Ron yelled, wrenching the steering wheel. They missed the stone wall by inches, veering into a great arc over the dark greenhouses, then the vegetable patch, then out over the black lawns—losing height all the time.
Ron let go of the steering wheel completely and yanked his wand from his back pocket.
"STOP! STOP!" He whacked the dashboard and the windscreen. But the car kept plummeting, the ground rushing up toward them—
Hope's eyes widened as she saw the tree looming ahead. And not just any tree.
"MIND THAT TREE!" Harry bellowed.
Hope lunged for the steering wheel, but too late—
CRUNCH.
With an ear-splitting bang of metal on wood, they slammed into the thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam billowed from under the crumpled bonnet. Hedwig and Markl shrieked in terror. A golf-ball-sized lump throbbed on Harry's head where he'd hit the windscreen. Hope held her nose, which had slammed into the dashboard. To his right, Ron let out a low, despairing groan.
"Are you okay?" Harry asked urgently.
Hope pulled her hand back from her nose, relieved to see no blood. "Yeah," she muttered.
"My wand..." Ron's voice shook. "Look at my wand."
It had snapped, almost in two. The tip dangled limply, held on by a few splinters.
Hope gave Ron a small, sympathetic smile—though it looked more like a grimace—as she glanced at the broken wand.
Harry opened his mouth to reassure him, but he never got the chance. At that moment, something slammed into the side of the car with the force of a charging bull, sending him lurching sideways into Hope, and Hope into Ron. An equally heavy blow struck the roof.
"What's happ—?" Ron gasped, staring through the windscreen.
Harry looked up just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it.
The tree was attacking them.
Its trunk bent almost double, its gnarled boughs pummeling every inch of the car it could reach.
"We're in the Whomping Willow!" Hope screamed, ducking as a branch crashed through the middle of the windscreen again.
"Aaargh!" Ron yelped as another twisted limb punched a large dent into his door. The windscreen trembled under a hail of knuckle-like twigs, and a branch as thick as a battering ram pounded furiously on the roof, which seemed to be caving in—
"Run for it!" Ron shouted, shoving his full weight against his door. But the next second, a vicious uppercut from another branch knocked him backward into Hope's lap.
"We're done for!" he moaned as the ceiling sagged.
But suddenly, the floor of the car vibrated—the engine had restarted.
"Reverse!" Harry yelled.
The car shot backward. The tree still lashed out, its roots creaking as it nearly tore itself from the ground, trying to reach them. They sped out of range.
"That," Ron panted, "was close. Well done, car."
The car, however, had had enough.
With two smart clunks, the doors flung open. Harry's seat tipped sideways, and the next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the damp ground. Hope landed on top of him with a thud, making him groan.
"Ow," she muttered, rolling off him.
Ron was thrown out on the other side. Loud thuds told them the car was ejecting their luggage from the boot. Hedwig's cage flew through the air, burst open, and she soared out with a furious screech, speeding toward the castle without a backward glance. Markl screeched loudly as Hope caught his cage, quickly opening the latch. He zoomed off after Hedwig.
Dented, scratched, and steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.
"Come back!" Ron yelled, waving his broken wand. "Dad'll kill me!"
But the car disappeared from view with one last snort from its exhaust.
Ron groaned. "Can you believe our luck? Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get one that hits back."
He glanced over his shoulder at the ancient tree, which was still flailing its branches threateningly.
"Come on," Harry said wearily. "We'd better get up to the school..."
It wasn't at all the triumphant arrival they had imagined. 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.
"I think the feast's already started," Ron muttered, dropping his trunk at the foot of the front steps. He crossed quietly to look through a brightly lit window. "Hey, come and look—it's the Sorting!"
Harry and Hope hurried over. Together, the three peered into the Great Hall.
Hundreds of candles hovered in midair over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, always mirroring the sky outside, twinkled with stars.
Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, Hope saw a long line of nervous-looking first-years filing into the Hall. Ginny was among them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair.
Professor McGonagall, her bespectacled eyes sharp and her hair drawn into a severe bun, placed the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.
A small, mousy-haired boy was called forward, nervously placing the hat on his head. Harry's gaze wandered past him to the staff table, where Professor Dumbledore sat, watching the Sorting with his usual calm. His long silver beard and half-moon glasses gleamed in the candlelight. A few seats down, Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in elaborate aquamarine robes, beamed at the students. At the very end sat Hagrid, massive and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.
"Hang on..." Harry muttered. "There's an empty chair at the staff table. Where's Snape?"
"Maybe he's ill!" Ron said hopefully.
"Maybe he left," Harry speculated. "Missed out on the Defense Against the Dark Arts job again."
"Or he might have been sacked!" Hope said eagerly. "I mean, everyone hates him—"
"Or maybe," came a very cold voice from behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you three didn't arrive on the school train."
Hope closed her eyes and let out a weary sigh before slowly turning around. Standing there, his black robes rippling slightly in the cool breeze, was Severus Snape. His hair was as greasy as ever, his sallow skin illuminated by the torchlights. He smiled down at them with a look that made it abundantly clear they were in very deep trouble.
"Follow me," Snape ordered.
Not daring to exchange even a glance, the three trudged behind him up the steps and into the vast, echoing Entrance Hall, where flaming torches flickered on the walls. The delicious smell of food wafted from the Great Hall, but Snape led them away from its warmth and light, down a narrow stone staircase into the dungeons.
"In," he snapped, opening a door halfway down the passage and pointing inside.
Shivering, they entered Snape's office. Shadowy walls were lined with shelves of large glass jars, each containing things floating in thick, murky liquid—things Hope really didn't want to identify. The fireplace was dark and empty. Snape closed the door and turned to face them.
"So," he said, his voice soft and dangerous, "the train wasn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekicks, Lupin and Weasley? Wanted to make an entrance, did we?"
"No, sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it—" Harry began.
"Silence!" Snape cut him off. "What have you done with the car?"
Ron gulped as Snape unrolled today's issue of the Evening Prophet.
"You were seen," he hissed, showing them the headline: FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He read aloud. "Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office Tower... At noon in Norfolk, Mrs. Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing... Mr. Angus Fleet of Peebles reported to police... Six or seven Muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office?" He turned to Ron, a slow, malicious smile creeping onto his face. "Dear, dear... his own son..."
Harry and Hope exchanged a guilty glance. Hope's stomach sank. She had never wanted to get Mr. Weasley into trouble.
"I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow," Snape went on, his eyes narrowing as they landed on Hope.
"That tree did more damage to us than we—" Ron blurted.
"Silence!" Snape snapped. "Most unfortunately, you are not in my house, and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall fetch the people who do have that power. You will wait here."
The three stared at each other, pale-faced. Hope felt sick. If Snape had gone to get Professor McGonagall, they were hardly any better off. She was fairer than Snape, but just as strict.
Ten minutes later, Snape returned, Professor McGonagall at his side. Hope had seen her angry before, but never like this. She raised her wand the moment she entered. Harry, Hope, and Ron flinched, but she merely pointed it at the empty fireplace, where flames erupted instantly.
"Sit," she commanded, and they backed into chairs by the fire. "Explain."
Ron launched into the story, describing how the barrier at King's Cross had refused to let them through.
"...so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn't get on the train."
"Why didn't you send an owl? I believe you two have owls?" McGonagall asked coolly, turning to Harry and Hope.
Hope's mouth fell open. She turned to Harry, who looked just as dumbfounded. "Why didn't we think of that?" she muttered. Now that she said it, that seemed the obvious thing to have done.
"I—I didn't think—" Harry began.
"That," McGonagall said sharply, "is obvious."
A knock on the door interrupted them. Snape, looking smug, opened it. Standing there was the Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore.
Hope swallowed hard. Deja vu settled in as she sat in front of the three professors. Dumbledore looked more serious than she had ever seen him. He gazed down his long, crooked nose at them, and Hope suddenly thought she'd rather be back getting beaten up by the Whomping Willow.
A long silence followed. Then Dumbledore spoke. "Please explain why you did this."
It would have been better if he had shouted. Hope hated the disappointment in his voice. Harry, unable to meet Dumbledore's eyes, stared at his knees and told him everything—except that Mr. Weasley owned the car. He made it sound as though they had merely stumbled upon a flying car outside the station. Dumbledore, of course, saw through the lie instantly but did not press the matter.
"We'll go get our stuff," Ron said miserably.
"What are you talking about, Weasley?" McGonagall barked.
"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?"
Harry looked quickly at Dumbledore.
"Not today, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said. "But I must impress upon you all the seriousness of your actions. I will be writing to your families tonight. If anything like this happens again, I will have no choice but to expel you."
Hope frowned. Her father would not be pleased.
Snape looked as though Christmas had been cancelled. He cleared his throat before speaking.
"Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree... Surely acts like this—"
"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys' punishments, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted calmly. "They are in her house and, therefore, her responsibility."
He turned to Professor McGonagall.
"I must return to the feast, Minerva. There are a few notices I need to give out. Come along, Severus—there's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample."
Snape shot a venomous look at Hope, Harry, and Ron as he was swept out of the office, leaving them alone with Professor McGonagall. She was still eyeing them like a wrathful eagle.
"You'd better get to the hospital wing, Weasley. You're bleeding."
"Not much," Ron muttered, hastily wiping the cut over his eye with his sleeve. "Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted—"
"The Sorting Ceremony is over," Professor McGonagall replied. "Your sister is also in Gryffindor."
"Oh, good," Ron said, visibly relieved.
"And speaking of Gryffindor—" Professor McGonagall began sharply, but Harry quickly cut in.
"Professor, when we took the car, term hadn't started yet, so—so Gryffindor shouldn't really have points taken from it, should it?" he finished, his voice tentative as he glanced at her.
Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look, but Hope could have sworn she almost smiled. Her mouth definitely looked less thin.
"I will not take any points from Gryffindor," she said, and Harry's heart lightened considerably. Hope let out a relieved sigh.
"But you will both get a detention."
It wasn't as bad as they'd expected, though Hope was still worried about what her father would think when he received Dumbledore's letter.
Professor McGonagall raised her wand and pointed it at Snape's desk. With a soft pop, a large plate of sandwiches, three silver goblets, and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appeared.
"You will eat in here, then go straight up to your dormitory," she instructed. "I must return to the feast."
Once the door had closed behind her, Ron let out a long, low whistle.
"I thought we'd had it," he said, grabbing a sandwich. "So did I," Harry agreed, taking one for himself.
Hope took a bite of the sandwich, immediately feeling better with real food in her stomach.
"Maybe she's letting us off easy because we saved the school last year?" Hope guessed between bites.
"Can you believe our luck, though?" Ron said, speaking thickly through a mouthful of chicken and ham. "Fred and George must've flown that car five or six times, and no Muggle ever saw them. Why couldn't we get through the barrier?"
Harry shrugged. "We'll have to watch our step from now on," he said, taking a grateful swig of pumpkin juice before giving Hope a knowing look.
"What?" she asked, her voice muffled as she chewed.
"That means especially you, Hope," Harry added.
Hope rolled her eyes but nodded, giving him a lazy wave off before taking another bite.
"Wish we could've gone up to the feast..." Hope sighed.
"She didn't want us showing off," Ron said sagely. "Doesn't want people to think it's clever arriving by flying car."
They continued eating until the sandwiches seemed endless, the plate refilling itself again and again. Finally, they rose and left the office, following the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. The castle was quiet, which meant the feast was over. They passed muttering portraits, creaking suits of armor, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, eventually reaching 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.
"Password?" she asked, eyeing them as they approached.
"Er—" Harry began.
They had no idea what the new year's password was, not having met a Gryffindor Prefect yet.
"Come on, you already know us," Hope said, but the Fat Lady turned her nose up at them.
"Password," she repeated firmly.
Help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying footsteps behind them and turned to see Hermione dashing toward them.
"There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors—someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car!" Hermione said, looking worried.
"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry assured her.
"You're not telling me you did fly here?" Hermione asked, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.
"Skip the lecture," Ron said impatiently. "Just tell us the new password."
"It's 'wattlebird,'" Hermione replied, sounding a bit frustrated. "But that's not the point—"
Her words were cut short as the Fat Lady's portrait swung open with a burst of noise. The entire Gryffindor house seemed to have gathered in the common room, waiting eagerly for them to arrive. The arms of their fellow students reached through the portrait hole, pulling Harry, Ron, and Hope inside. Hermione scrambled in after them.
"Brilliant!" Lee Jordan yelled. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow. People will be talking about that one for years!"
"Good on you," said a fifth-year Hope didn't recognize, patting Harry on the back as though he'd just won a marathon. Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd, speaking together.
"Why couldn't you've called us back, eh?"
Ron, crimson in the face, grinned awkwardly, but Harry could see one person who wasn't thrilled. Percy, visible over the heads of excited first-years, was trying to get close enough to start lecturing them. Harry nudged Ron and nodded toward Percy.
Ron understood immediately.
"Got to get upstairs—bit tired," he said.
Hope quickly grabbed their arms, shaking her head. "Don't leave me with Hermione. She's gonna nag me all night," she said.
The two boys shared an amused grin, shrugged, and pushed their way toward the door leading to the spiral staircase and the dormitories.
"Night," Harry called back to Hope and Hermione, who was wearing a scowl that matched Percy's.
Hope sighed as she walked up to the girls' dormitory, hearing Hermione shuffle behind her. The familiar space, with its cozy four-poster beds and scattered, colorful quilts, felt like a small comfort after the chaos of the day. It was quiet, save for the soft murmur of Parvati and Lavender chattering to each other on their beds.
Hope flopped onto her bed, sprawling out and letting out a long, tired sigh while rubbing her temples. She could already tell what was coming. Hermione's sharp, concerned gaze was already directed her way. "Honestly, I can't believe you three," Hermione muttered as she sat on her bed, arms crossed.
"We had no choice, Mione," Hope defended.
From across the room, Parvati raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "So, explain it again. The flying car thing? What happened?"
Hope sighed, sitting up and propping herself against the headboard, trying to ignore the deep fatigue in her limbs. "Alright, here it goes," she said, rolling her eyes. She told the story in full—how they'd missed the train, how the barrier didn't open, how they panicked and made the only decision that seemed reasonable at the time—stealing Mr.Weasley's flying car. She could see Parvati and Lavender exchange glances, their faces full of surprise and fascination.
"That's mental!" Lavender said, wide-eyed, clearly impressed despite herself. "But flying in a car? That's brilliant!"
Hermione crossed her arms, her disapproval clear. "No, it's not. I just don't understand why you didn't think of an owl, Hope. We could've avoided all of this."
"McGonagall asked the same thing." Hope groaned.
"Well, why didn't you then?" Hermione repeated, exasperated.
"Cause I didn't think of it," Hope mumbled, flopping back onto her bed dramatically.
Parvati raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Well, now we know why you weren't sorted into Ravenclaw, Hope."
Hope's eyes widened, and she gave an offended look, though she laughed at the girl's quip. She grabbed the nearest pillow and tossed it at Parvati. Parvati ducked just in time, but the pillow hit Lavender squarely in the face, causing her to laugh in surprise.
"Hey!" Lavender said, raising a hand to her face.
"Sorry," Hope said, her voice tinged with amusement. "It was meant for Parvati."