The Hogwarts Express
The last month Harry spent before going to Hogwarts was one of the happiest of his life. He finally felt free: free to be himself, free from fear, free from the silent resentment of the Dursleys. After the tumultuous incident with Uncle Vernon, Harry hadn’t set foot back at Number 4, Privet Drive. To his great relief, he spent the rest of the summer at Number 6, Sirius’s house, where he finally felt welcomed and appreciated. The days were filled with new discoveries, conversations, and stories that made him feel closer to his parents.
Even though Harry was temporarily living at Number 6 with Sirius, he still occasionally saw the Dursleys from afar as they went about their daily routines. One morning, while looking out of the living room window, he spotted them crossing the driveway to their house.
Uncle Vernon, with a conspicuous bandage wrapped around his head, stomped heavily towards the car. Every now and then, he nervously adjusted the bandage, trying to make it look more dignified, but with little success. Aunt Petunia followed rigidly, casting acidic glances toward Sirius’s house, as though Number 6 were a personal affront to her perfect street. Dudley, who had gained a bit more weight, trudged behind them, glaring at Harry with his usual look of disgust and superiority, as if the mere sight of his cousin ruined his day.
Harry watched silently, but their presence no longer stirred any reaction in him. Their cutting looks and disapproving expressions, which once made him feel inadequate, now slid off him like water. He was free—at least for now—and he had something they could never take away: a world full of magic, a school waiting for him, and someone like Sirius by his side. Harry stepped away from the window with a faint smile. The Dursleys could keep looking at him with disgust all they wanted; soon, he would leave all of that behind for a new life.
The days passed in warmth, discoveries about the magical world, and moments of simple tranquility.
The snowy owl Hagrid had gifted him in Diagon Alley had become his inseparable companion. Harry had named her Hedwig, a name he found in one of his new books, and he often spent hours watching her fly freely around the house, only to return with precision to her cage.
Evenings were dedicated to Sirius’s stories. Sitting together in the living room, with magical photos of James and Lily watching from the mantelpiece, Sirius told tales that brought Hogwarts alive in Harry’s heart. He spoke of hidden passages behind tapestries, staircases that changed direction without warning, and the Whomping Willow, a particularly irritable tree that seemed to harbor its own secrets. Sirius also talked about the professors: the stern yet fair McGonagall, who had impressed generations of students, or the brilliant and tiny Professor Flitwick, a genius in charms. Every story made Hogwarts feel more real and fed Harry’s excitement as he imagined himself in those corridors, ready to find his place in the world.
Whenever they had the chance, Harry and Sirius listened to Montrose Magpies matches on the radio. It was James’s favorite team, and Harry cheered passionately, imagining his father celebrating just as he did. “Your dad was the best Seeker Hogwarts ever saw,” Sirius would say, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Who knows, maybe you’ve inherited his talent.”
But despite the joy of that month, Harry occasionally felt a shadow of doubt. With Hogwarts approaching, questions tormented him, but he hadn’t found the courage to voice them until the night before his departure.
The house was quiet when Harry made up his mind. Sirius was sitting in the living room, reading one of his old spell books, but he immediately looked up when Harry approached. “Everything alright, kid?” he asked, closing the book and setting it on the table.
Harry hesitated, then sat next to him. “Sirius... I... I’m excited about tomorrow, but I’m also scared.”
Sirius observed him closely, the usual amused smile on his face replaced by a serious but reassuring expression. “It’s normal to be scared,” he said. “Tomorrow, you’re taking your first step into an entirely new world. It wouldn’t be normal if you weren’t at least a little nervous.”
Harry lowered his gaze to his clasped hands. “What if I end up in Slytherin?” he murmured. “Or worse... what if I’m not good enough? Maybe I’m not cut out for Hogwarts... And what if no one wants to be my friend? Everyone knows me because of that stupid scar. What if they only approach me because of it?”
Sirius was silent for a moment, then leaned forward slightly. “Listen to me, Harry. First of all, you don’t have to be anyone other than yourself. Trust me, the right people will see who you truly are. Your scar or your fame doesn’t matter. What matters is the boy you are.”
Harry nodded, but the doubt of inadequacy was still visible in his eyes. Sirius leaned back in his chair and, after a moment, said, “You know, your dad had the same fears when we first boarded the train. But do you know how he overcame them? He decided to create his own group. James didn’t wait for things to happen—he went out there and made them happen. By extending a hand, offering help. That’s how he found me, Remus, and even Peter,” Sirius added with a slight hint of irritation at the last name.
Harry looked up. “Create my own group?”
“Exactly,” Sirius replied. “At Hogwarts, there are no rules about who you can be friends with. You’ll always find someone who needs a hand, someone who needs to be heard. You don’t have to be special to make friends, Harry. You just have to be kind.”
Sirius paused, then added, “And as for not feeling good enough... let me tell you something. Your mother came from a Muggle family. She had no idea what magic was when she got her letter. She didn’t know any spells, knew nothing about Hogwarts. But she became one of the most brilliant witches of her generation. Do you know why?”
Harry shook his head slightly.
“Because she had determination, passion, and a big heart. Harry, it doesn’t matter what you know now. What matters is your willingness to learn, to improve, and to do your best. And that, Harry, I can see in your eyes.”
Harry smiled faintly. “Mum... was she really that good?”
Sirius nodded, his face softening with a tender expression. “More than I can say. And you’ve inherited that spark, Harry. Trust me: you’re meant to be at Hogwarts. And it doesn’t matter which house you end up in. You’ll carry the best of your parents with you, wherever you go.”
Sirius’s words had the power to calm Harry’s fears, at least a little. Harry stood, grateful for the conversation. “Thanks, Sirius.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Sirius replied, patting his shoulder. “Tomorrow, your adventure begins, Harry. Just remember: be yourself. That will be more than enough.”
Harry climbed the stairs, feeling stronger and a bit more ready. The thought of finding his place at Hogwarts, just like his parents before him, accompanied him as he slipped under the covers.
On the morning of September 1st, Harry woke up at five, too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and quickly dressed in his jeans and a t-shirt. He didn’t want to arrive at the station already wearing his wizard robes; he’d change on the train. He then spent a few minutes double-checking his trunk, ticking off the Hogwarts list to make sure he had everything he needed. Occasionally, he glanced at Hedwig, who slept peacefully in her cage. At half-past six, Sirius appeared in the kitchen with tousled hair and a steaming cup of coffee in hand. “You’re already up? Couldn’t sleep, huh?” he asked with a smile, running a hand over his scruffy beard.
Harry shook his head. “Too excited,” he admitted. “I want to make sure everything’s ready.”
Sirius chuckled. “You’re just like your father on his first day. James spent the whole night organizing his trunk, checking every single sock. Ready to go?”
Harry nodded, and Sirius quickly finished his coffee. Shortly after, they loaded the bulky trunk onto Sirius’s motorcycle, which had an expansion charm to fit everything. Hedwig was carefully secured on a small magical perch next to Harry.
“Alright, Harry,” Sirius said with a smile. “King’s Cross awaits.”
With the trunk and Hedwig’s cage safely strapped to the motorcycle, Harry and Sirius set off for King’s Cross. The journey was short but filled with stories and laughter. With the wind tousling his hair, Sirius didn’t miss the chance to share another of his Hogwarts anecdotes. “James was always the last to board the train,” he said, laughing. “His poor mother would chase after him with half the things he’d forgotten at home. Once, he even left his cauldron behind.”
Harry laughed, imagining the scene, and the thought of his father gave him a sense of comfort. “What about you? Were you organized?” he asked, trying to suppress a grin.
“Organized? Let’s not get carried away. But at least I didn’t forget my cauldron or my owl,” Sirius replied with a sly glance. “Anyway, you’ll see—the train ride is one of the best parts of the year. That’s where it all begins.”
When they arrived at the station, Sirius parked the motorcycle in a secluded area and cast a quick spell to make the trunk lighter. “A little magic never hurts,” he said, winking at Harry as he loaded everything onto a trolley. Then, together, they headed toward the platforms.
Harry looked at the signs for the platforms, feeling slightly nervous. “How do we get through the barrier?” he asked, trying not to sound too anxious.
Sirius gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s easier than it seems. You just have to walk toward the wall between platforms 9 and 10 like it’s the most normal thing in the world. We’ll do it together.”
They stopped in front of the barrier. Harry stared at the brick wall skeptically, then glanced at Sirius, who gestured for him to go ahead. “Come on, Harry. I’m right here with you.”
Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed the trolley toward the wall, and Sirius placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “No hesitation, remember,” he said in his usual joking tone. “Or you’ll end up with a squashed nose!”
With a determined step, Harry crossed the barrier with Sirius at his side, one hand on his shoulder and the other helping him push the trolley. In an instant, they found themselves on the other side. Platform 9¾ was a flurry of life and color: the bright red steam engine stood out against the clear sky, while families waved goodbye to their children and students chatted excitedly as they waited to board.
Harry paused for a moment to take it all in, his eyes wide. “It’s incredible...” he whispered.
Sirius patted his shoulder. “And you haven’t seen anything yet.”
As Harry and Sirius approached the train, a family with flaming red hair immediately caught his attention. The mother, a plump woman with a kind face, was bending down toward a younger red-haired boy, probably the youngest of the group, giving him affectionate but firm instructions. Next to them, two identical boys laughed together, playfully pushing each other, while a girl with long, bright red hair watched them with curious, admiring eyes.
Harry slowed down, fascinated by the energy and warmth of the scene. It was the first time he had seen a magical family, and it all seemed so... normal, yet filled with a warm familial magic.
Sirius noticed Harry’s gaze and stopped next to him, smiling. “That’s a good family,” he said reassuringly. “If that’s the Weasleys—and I’m almost certain it is—you couldn’t hope to meet a better magical family... Certainly better than mine, though that’s not saying much.”
Harry nodded, ignoring Sirius’s comment about his own family, and felt a strange sense of comfort simply watching them. His smile widened slightly when the woman looked up and noticed him. Without hesitation, she approached, her face breaking into a warm smile.
“Oh, dear, are you off to Hogwarts?” she asked kindly, her gaze quickly moving from Harry to his trolley with the trunk and Hedwig’s cage.
“Yes,” Harry replied, a little timidly.
“Oh, then you’re a new student! I’m Molly Weasley, and these are my children.” She gestured toward the group with a wave of her hand. “Ron is starting his first year too.” She motioned to the youngest red-haired boy, who was trying to hide his nerves with a half-smile.
“Hi,” Ron said, waving at Harry with a slightly flushed face.
“Hi,” Harry replied, feeling strangely at ease.
Meanwhile, the identical twins had approached, exchanging amused looks. One of them spoke in a theatrical tone: “Fred and George Weasley, at your service! Need help with that trunk?”
Harry smiled, surprised but grateful. “Thanks,” he said, watching them curiously as they lifted the trunk with ease and carefully placed it in the train’s luggage compartment. The two exchanged a glance and then looked at Harry with identical mischievous expressions.
“So, Harry Potter,” said Fred—or perhaps it was George—with a tone that mixed admiration and irony. “We’re in the presence of a living legend, huh?”
Harry blushed slightly. “How do you know who I am?” he asked.
“Oh, dear,” Molly interjected with a stern tone, shooting the twins a warning look. “Harry isn’t a zoo animal. Leave him alone!”
Sirius, who had been watching the scene with amusement, chuckled quietly. “If I were you, I’d follow your mother’s advice,” he said, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry is just a normal kid like you.”
Fred and George raised their hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, no pressure,” said one of them. “But if you need expert guidance to survive at Hogwarts... we’re your guys.”
“Yes, the best Gryffindors around,” added the other with a grin.
Harry couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a little more relaxed.
After saying goodbye to the twins and loading all the necessary belongings, Harry climbed aboard the train, searching for an empty compartment. Sirius walked with him to the carriage door and crouched down to give him one last hug.
“Harry, just be yourself,” he said warmly. “You’re stepping into your world now, and you’ll find the right friends there—one of them might even become someone as close as family. I’ll write to you every week, but if you ever feel alone or unsure, don’t hesitate to send Hedwig my way. I’m always here for you.”
Harry nodded, giving Sirius a brief but heartfelt hug before stepping onto the train.
As the train started to move, Harry looked out the window and saw Sirius standing there, waving energetically, joined by the red-haired mother who was doing the same. The youngest sibling, a little girl, ran along the platform, laughing and crying at the same time, until the train picked up speed, leaving her behind. Harry watched as the figures of his godfather, the girl, and the woman disappeared around the first bend. He glanced out at the houses flashing past the window, feeling a mix of nervousness and exhilaration. Whatever lay ahead, it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.
The compartment door slid open, and a tall, freckled boy with red hair stepped inside.
“Mind if I sit here?” he asked, gesturing to the seat across from Harry. “Everywhere else is full.”
“Of course, go ahead,” Harry replied with a smile, happy for the chance to meet someone new. He extended a hand. “I’m Harry.”
“Ron Weasley,” the boy said, plopping into the seat with a grateful sigh. “Thanks. This train is completely packed. I couldn’t find a spot anywhere.” He glanced quickly at Harry, then shifted his gaze to the window, trying to act like he wasn’t curious. Harry noticed a smudge on his nose that looked like soot.
Before either of them could say more, the compartment door slid open again, and the twins from earlier popped their heads in.
“Hey, Ron!” one of them said with a cheeky grin. “We’re heading to the middle of the train—Lee’s got a giant spider. Want to join?”
“No thanks,” Ron muttered, clearly embarrassed by their intrusion.
“Alright, we’ll catch you later! Bye, Harry!” they called, giving Harry an exaggerated wave before disappearing down the corridor.
Ron shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable, then blurted out, “You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?”
Harry hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Ron’s eyes widened slightly, and he leaned forward, clearly fascinated. “So... is it true? About, you know... him?” He pointed vaguely to his own forehead. Harry brushed his fringe aside, revealing the thin lightning-shaped scar.
“Whoa,” Ron said, staring. “That’s where it happened, isn’t it? When...” He trailed off, unwilling to say the name.
“Yeah,” Harry replied softly. “But I don’t really remember anything. Just a flash of green light, and... nothing else.”
“Still,” Ron said, clearly awestruck. He stared for a moment longer before realizing how awkward it was and quickly turned back to the window.
Wanting to change the subject, Harry asked, “Is your whole family magical?”
“Pretty much,” Ron said with a shrug. “There’s a distant cousin who works in accounting, but we don’t talk about him much.”
“You must already know loads about magic, then,” Harry said, imagining what it would be like to grow up in a wizarding family.
“I guess so,” Ron replied. “But I heard you lived with Muggles. What was that like?”
“Terrible,” Harry admitted. “My aunt and uncle are awful people. So’s my cousin. But I have Sirius now, my godfather. He’s been amazing, teaching me about our world. I bet it’s nice having brothers, though. What’s that like?”
“Having brothers?” Ron repeated, letting out a humorless laugh. “It’s... exhausting. I’m the youngest boy, so everyone’s already done everything before me. Bill and Charlie were legends at school—Bill was Head Boy, and Charlie was captain of the Quidditch team. Percy’s a prefect now, and Fred and George... well, they’re a handful, but everyone thinks they’re hilarious. So no matter what I do, it’s either been done before, or it’s not good enough.” He sighed. “And don’t even get me started on hand-me-downs. My robes? Bill’s old ones. My wand? Charlie’s. And this...” He pulled a fat, sleepy gray rat out of his pocket. “This is Scabbers. He’s Percy’s old pet. Useless thing doesn’t even wake up most of the time.”
Ron’s ears turned red, and he glanced at Harry, clearly embarrassed.
Harry, however, didn’t think there was anything wrong with using secondhand stuff. He told Ron about the oversized clothes he’d always worn, handed down from Dudley, and how he’d never had a proper birthday present until Sirius came into his life. The shared experiences seemed to make Ron feel more at ease, and he even muttered a rude comment about Harry’s relatives that made them both laugh.
The two boys sat in companionable silence for a while, the train now speeding through open countryside. The neatly kept fields of the suburbs gave way to wilder landscapes—rolling green hills, winding rivers, and patches of dense forest.
Around midday, the sound of clattering wheels filled the corridor, followed by a cheerful voice. A kind-looking woman with a trolley stacked high with all kinds of colorful snacks stopped by their compartment.
“Anything from the trolley, dears?” she asked with a warm smile.
Harry, who hadn’t eaten anything since early morning, jumped up eagerly. Ron, on the other hand, stayed in his seat, his ears tinged red again.
“I’ve got sandwiches,” Ron mumbled, pulling a slightly squashed package from his bag.
Sirius had told Harry all about wizarding sweets and even let him try some over the summer. The sight of the trolley made his mouth water. He quickly bought a little bit of everything, handing over some shiny silver Sickles and bronze Knuts. When he returned with his arms full of sweets, Ron stared at the pile with wide eyes.
“Wow, you’re really hungry, aren’t you?”
Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Not really. I just wanted to try everything.” He grabbed a pumpkin pasty and bit into it, savoring the sweet, spiced filling.
Ron unwrapped one of his sandwiches and made a face. “Corned beef again,” he muttered.
“Here,” Harry said, offering him a pasty. “Trade you. I’ve got plenty.”
“You sure?” Ron asked, looking torn between gratitude and embarrassment.
“Of course,” Harry insisted. “Go on, take it.”
Ron hesitated for a moment, then accepted the pasty with a small smile. “Thanks,” he said, taking a bite. “Wow, this is way better than Mum’s sandwiches.”
The two boys quickly fell into an easy rhythm, sharing sweets and swapping stories. Harry showed Ron a pack of Chocolate Frogs and explained that a friend of his dad’s, Remus, had been a big fan of them.
“Yeah, Chocolate Frogs are great,” Ron said, his mouth full of pumpkin pasty. “But the cards inside are what everyone really wants. I’ve got hundreds of them—well, almost. Still missing a few rare ones, though.”
Harry opened a Chocolate Frog and pulled out the card. It showed an old wizard with half-moon glasses, a long silver beard, and a crooked nose. “Albus Dumbledore,” Harry read aloud, flipping the card over to read more about him. “It says he defeated some dark wizard named Grindelwald and works with Nicolas Flamel. That’s pretty impressive.”
Ron, meanwhile, had finished his pasty and was digging into the pile of sweets. Finally, Harry decided to lift his eyes from the card showing Dumbledore, and opened a packet of Every Flavor Beans.
“You’ve got to be careful with those,” Ron warned. “Every flavor really means every flavor. You might get chocolate, mint, or orange marmalade... but you could just as easily get spinach, liver, or tripe. George swears he once got one that tasted like bogeys.”
“Sirius once messed with one of these,” Harry said, smirking as he recalled the story, “and he and my dad made a Slytherin in their year eat it. Poor guy ended up swallowing something that tasted like hair grease.”
Ron laughed and picked out a green bean. He examined it carefully before taking a small bite.
“Bleh! Brussels sprouts!” he groaned, making a face.
They had a lot of fun sampling the beans. Harry found ones that tasted like toast, coconut, baked beans, strawberry, curry, fresh grass, coffee, and sardines. He even dared to try a gray one that Ron refused to touch, which turned out to taste like pepper.
By now, the landscape outside had grown wilder. The neat fields were gone, replaced by woods, winding rivers, and hills covered in dense green vegetation.
There was a knock at the door of their compartment. Standing there was a round-faced boy with blond hair, looking awkward and near tears.
“Excuse me,” he said timidly. “Have you seen a toad? I’ve lost him. He keeps running away.”
Harry was instantly reminded of what Sirius had told him about the importance of helping others. The boy seemed so upset, and Harry understood all too well what it felt like to be alone. Without hesitation, he stood up.
“We’ll help you look for him,” Harry said, a reassuring smile spreading across his face.
The boy, whose name turned out to be Neville, looked at him with watery eyes, clearly surprised. “Really? Oh, thank you!”
Ron, still lounging in his seat with his hands full of Chocolate Frogs, groaned. “Looking for a toad? Really?”
“Come on, Ron,” Harry said, giving him a pointed look. “It might be fun.”
Ron sighed dramatically, stuffing the last of his Chocolate Frog into his pocket. “Alright, alright. But if that toad jumps on anyone, I’m not taking the blame.”
The three boys moved down the corridor, bending to look under the seats and occasionally opening a compartment door. After a few minutes, they stopped in front of a particularly crowded compartment. Harry peeked inside, and his heart skipped a beat.
A tall boy with dark skin, short curly hair, and a bright smile was chatting animatedly with another boy, shorter and with sandy-colored hair. Harry recognized the tall boy instantly, and without thinking, he swung the door open.
“Hey, excuse me!” he called. His gaze locked onto the taller boy’s. “No way... Dean?” Harry asked in disbelief. His only friend from Little Whinging, whom he had reluctantly let go of years ago, was now on the same train to Hogwarts. After years of wondering, Dean must have finally gotten his own answers about the strange things happening around him.
Dean turned sharply, and his face lit up with surprise. “Harry? Harry Potter? What are you doing here?”
Harry stepped into the compartment, an incredulous smile on his face. “I’m helping someone look for his toad, but... I can’t believe it’s you!”
The chatter in the compartment stopped. Harry glanced around at the group inside. He didn’t recognize anyone, but he could feel their curious gazes fixed on him, full of interest. It must have been true that every magical person knew his name because, one by one, the students began staring at him intently.
Two identical girls with sleek, neatly styled black hair observed him with dark, curious eyes, exchanging glances and whispers. Both wore jingling bracelets and seemed entirely at ease, like they’d been through a lot together. Next to them sat a boy with perfectly combed light hair, sitting upright with an air of composure. He occasionally glanced at a silver watch on his wrist, his expression a mix of curiosity and faint superiority.
A girl with reddish hair and a calm demeanor sat nearby, watching him with a small, gentle smile. She seemed less flustered than the others, but there was a clear spark of interest in her eyes. Her hands were clasped in her lap, and her expression was kind and reassuring.
In the corner, a boy with messy dark hair kept his eyes down but occasionally peeked discreetly at Harry. He seemed nervous and didn’t engage with anyone, but he had an intelligent and introverted air.
Sensing Harry’s growing discomfort with the attention, Dean casually stood up, followed by the sandy-haired boy he’d been talking to. Together, they stepped out of the compartment. Once outside, Dean reached out to shake Harry’s hand, then pulled him into a quick but warm hug.
“It’s amazing to see you! I thought we’d never meet again after you left,” Dean said with a grin.
Harry nodded. “I thought so too. It’s surreal finding you here.”
Dean gestured to the sandy-haired boy beside him. “Oh, by the way, this is Seamus. We just met on the train.”
Harry turned to the boy, who was studying him with curiosity. “Nice to meet you,” Harry said, shaking his hand.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Seamus replied enthusiastically.
Meanwhile, the glances and whispers from the compartment hadn’t ceased. Dean noticed and placed a reassuring hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t mind them. I was a bit stunned myself when I heard...” he said with a smile. “I mean, I have the privilege of being your friend, but I kind of get it... It’s not every day you meet someone famous. Maybe they’re just trying to figure out if it’s really you.”
Seamus nodded, crossing his arms. “Yeah, we’ve all grown up hearing about Harry Potter as this legendary figure. I guess it’s a bit strange seeing you here... just a regular guy like the rest of us.” He paused, then added with a grin, “Well, mostly regular.”
Harry chuckled faintly, trying to relax. He appreciated that Seamus was making an effort to treat him like anyone else. “I didn’t think I’d draw this much attention... I’m not sure I’m ready for it.”
Dean gave him a friendly pat. “You’ll get used to it. And hey, if you need anything, you can count on us,” he said, gesturing to himself and Seamus.
Harry nodded. “Thanks, Dean. I really appreciate it.” He glanced back toward the compartment door, still feeling a bit nervous, but the presence of Dean and Seamus made him feel more at ease.
“So... you mentioned looking for a toad?” Seamus asked, closing the compartment door behind them.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “A boy named Neville lost it, and we’re trying to help him find it.”
“We’ll help too,” Dean offered without hesitation. He turned to Seamus with a raised eyebrow. “What do you say? Want to join us? It’s got to be more interesting than sitting around here all day.”
Seamus laughed. “Why not? Been sitting still for too many hours already.”
Neville and Ron, who had caught up to the compartment door, looked at them curiously. “Any luck with Trevor?” Ron asked.
“Not yet,” Harry replied. “But we’ve got reinforcements.”
Dean and Seamus greeted Neville and Ron with friendly nods, and the group grew as they continued their search down the corridor.
Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus scoured the corridor, peeking under seats and into open compartments but found no trace of Trevor. Neville bent down multiple times, hoping to spot a small hopping shadow, but the toad remained elusive.
“Alright, I think we’ve done enough,” Ron said after about twenty minutes, brushing off his pants. “We’re not going to find him here. Don’t worry, Neville. Like I said, toads always show up when you least expect it.”
Neville still looked worried but nodded, gripping his wand as if it might somehow help.
“Let’s head back to our compartment,” Harry suggested. “Trevor might’ve gone back there on his own.”
The group turned and started making their way back along the train. Dean walked beside Harry, chatting cheerfully. “You know, this train is way more exciting than I thought it’d be. First, I run into an old friend I haven’t seen in years, who turns out to be a celebrity, and now I’m hunting for a magical toad.”
“Well, tomorrow you’ll probably be hunting for your books under a pile of parchment,” Seamus joked, making them all laugh.
When they reached their compartment, Ron pushed the door open and flopped onto the seat with a sigh. “Finally. Searching for a toad is harder work than I thought.”
Neville sat down next to him, looking a bit calmer. “Thanks for helping, guys. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
Harry gave him an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry. Like Ron said, Trevor will turn up.” He glanced at the pile of sweets still sitting untouched. Turning to Dean, he said, “Why don’t you and Seamus join us? It’d be a shame to let all this go to waste.”
Dean looked at Ron and Neville. “You guys okay with that?”
“No problem at all,” Neville said immediately. “The more, the merrier.”
Seamus grinned. “Perfect! Still a few hours left to go, and there’s nothing better than having fun to pass the time.”
The group settled into the compartment, quickly falling into an easy rhythm of laughter and chatter as they worked their way through the pile of sweets. They discussed Hogwarts, the world of magic, and the kinds of animals that students were allowed to bring.
“You know,” Seamus said, leaning forward and eyeing Hedwig, “your owl is incredible, Harry. I’ve always thought owls are the best pets—practical, useful, and they look amazing. But toads? I don’t get it. If I had a toad, I’d probably lose it on purpose.”
Seamus stopped abruptly as he caught Harry giving him a pointed look and subtly gesturing toward Neville. Realizing his mistake, he flushed slightly and added, “No offense, Neville... I mean, I’m not one to talk. I’ve got this rat, Scabbers.”
Ron, who was reclining in his seat, held up his own rat, Scabbers. He regarded the creature with a mix of affection and disgust. “Trust me, if this one were to disappear, I wouldn’t even notice. He sleeps all day, eats like a pig, and contributes absolutely nothing.”
The others laughed, and Ron added, “Yesterday, I tried to turn him yellow to make him a little more interesting, but the spell didn’t work. Hang on, I’ll show you.”
Everyone leaned forward curiously as Ron rummaged through his trunk and pulled out his wand. It was battered and slightly chewed, with a frayed end where something silvery glinted faintly.
“The unicorn hair’s about to fall out,” Ron admitted, holding it up.
Neville, who was watching nervously, said, “Doesn’t matter, Ron. As long as it works, right?”
Ron raised his wand, looking uncertain, and began to cast the spell when the compartment door suddenly slid open. The group turned to see a girl standing in the doorway.
“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost his,” she said briskly. She had bushy brown hair, slightly prominent front teeth, and was already wearing her Hogwarts robes neatly.
She gave everyone a quick once-over, her sharp gaze lingering on Neville. “Oh, Neville, there you are. Have you found it yet?”
Neville shifted nervously in his seat. “Not yet... but don’t worry. He always turns up. These guys were really nice—they helped me look.”
The girl glanced at the others critically, as if assessing whether Neville was telling the truth. Then her eyes fell on the wand in Ron’s hand.
“Are you doing magic?” she asked with a note of curiosity.
Caught off guard, Ron hesitated. “Er... yeah,” he said finally, lowering his wand slightly. “I was about to.”
He cleared his throat and recited dramatically, “Sunshine daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid rat yellow!”
He waved his wand in a wide arc over Scabbers, who was sprawled lazily on his lap. The rat remained resolutely gray, motionless, and unimpressed. A faint giggle rippled through the group.
“Is that a real spell?” the girl asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. “It didn’t seem to work very well. I’ve been practicing some simple spells at home, and they’ve all worked fine. My family isn’t magical, so it was a huge shock to get my letter. But of course, I started studying right away. Hogwarts is the best school of witchcraft and wizardry, you know.”
She spoke rapidly, barely pausing for breath. “I’ve memorized all the textbooks,” she continued, looking quite pleased with herself. “Oh, and by the way, I’m Hermione Granger. Who are you?”
Harry, who was trying not to laugh at Ron’s stunned expression, was the first to answer. “I’m Harry Potter.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “Really? Harry Potter? That’s incredible! I’ve read all about you, of course—Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. You’re in all of them. Didn’t you know?”
Harry felt suddenly uncomfortable under her intense gaze. “Er... no, I didn’t,” he said awkwardly.
“Oh, but you should!” Hermione said, sounding as though she were scolding him. “If I were you, I’d want to know everything there is to know.” She turned to the group. “Do you all know which house you’ll be in? I hope I’m in Gryffindor. It sounds by far the best. Though Ravenclaw wouldn’t be bad either...”
Dean exchanged a look with Seamus and whispered to Harry, “Does she ever stop talking?”
Hermione seemed oblivious and turned to Neville. “Have you checked the corridor? Trevor might have jumped into another compartment.”
Neville nodded but told Hermione not to worry. She marched toward the door purposefully. “I’ll keep looking for you, Neville. Don’t worry. And you all should change into your robes. We’ll be there soon.”
With one last glance at Scabbers, Hermione left, pulling the door shut behind her.
There was a moment of silence before Ron tossed his wand back into his trunk and groaned. “Whatever house I’m in, I hope it’s not the same as hers.”
Everyone, except Neville, burst out laughing.
“Fifteen years from now, we’ll all be gathered at your wedding,” Seamus teased, grinning mischievously.
Harry, Dean, and Neville laughed, while Ron’s ears turned bright red.
“Shut it, Seamus,” Ron grumbled.
“Oh, come on! You know what they say—‘the ones who bicker the most, love the most,’” Seamus said with a shrug.
The group laughed again, and Dean leaned toward Ron. “You really don’t like her, huh? I think she’s alright... maybe just a little too eager.”
Ron crossed his arms. “A little eager?” Ron said skeptically, leaning back in his seat. “We’ll see what you think after you’ve had to sit through every class with her.”
The laughter died down, and Seamus turned to Ron. “So, which house are your brothers in?”
“Gryffindor,” Ron replied, though his tone became more serious. “Mum and Dad were there too. Imagine what they’ll say if I don’t get in... I wouldn’t mind Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, but if I end up in Slytherin...” He trailed off, slumping back in his seat with a gloomy expression.
Harry felt a chill. “Slytherin... that’s where... uh, You-Know-Who was, right?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Ron muttered. “But I’m sure I won’t end up there.”
Neville, who had been silent until now, spoke up, his face pale. “I’ll probably be in Hufflepuff. It’s not like I’m good at anything else.”
Seamus scratched his head. “Come on, not every dark wizard comes from Slytherin. It’s just a house.”
Dean tried to lighten the mood. “Exactly. Besides, it’s not like you get to choose, right? The hat decides for you.”
Harry, sensing Ron’s unease, pointed at Scabbers, the rat dozing on his lap. “You know, I think the tips of Scabbers’ whiskers look a bit lighter. Must be your spell,” he said with a grin.
Ron snorted but gave a small smile. “Maybe I need to try something stronger. Bet George has another wonky wand I could borrow.”
Seamus leaned in, squinting at Scabbers. “I don’t know, Ron. Scabbers looks like he’s already been through enough.”
The group burst out laughing, and the mood lightened again. Curious, Harry turned to Ron. “So, what do your older brothers do now that they’ve finished school?”
Ron perked up a little. “Charlie’s in Romania studying dragons, and Bill works for Gringotts in Africa.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Gringotts? The bank with the vaults and goblins? I went there with my mum to exchange some pounds for Galleons.”
“Yeah,” Ron said. “Have you heard about that break-in at the high-security vault? It was all over the Daily Prophet. Dad says whoever did it must’ve been really powerful to even try.”
Harry sat up straighter. “A break-in? What happened to them?”
“Nothing. That’s the weird part,” Ron explained. “They didn’t catch them, and apparently, nothing was taken. It’s strange, isn’t it? Whenever something like that happens, people start worrying it’s... well, You-Know-Who.”
Neville shivered visibly, and Harry felt the same unease. He ignored it and quickly changed the subject. “What’s your favorite Quidditch team, Ron?”
“Chudley Cannons,” Ron said proudly.
Seamus laughed loudly, leaning forward. “The Cannons? Seriously, Ron? The team everyone beats at least once in their lifetime?”
Ron shot him a glare. “And who do you support?”
Seamus puffed out his chest with mock pride. “The Kenmare Kestrels, of course. At least we’re a real team, not a bunch of circus performers like your Cannons.”
Ron scowled. “Circus performers? At least we don’t spend every match throwing flowers around like you lot.”
Seamus grinned. “We celebrate our victories. Something your Cannons haven’t seen in... how long? A century?”
Harry, watching the exchange with amusement, chimed in. “Wait, the Kestrels are the ones who play harps and throw clovers, right?”
“Exactly!” Seamus said, pointing at Harry.
“What about you, Harry?” Ron asked curiously.
“Montrose Magpies,” Harry said with a smile. “It was my dad’s favorite team. That’s why I support them.”
Seamus smirked. “Didn’t they lose to the Kestrels last season? Or am I remembering wrong?”
Harry straightened, accepting the jab. “The Magpies are the most successful team in Quidditch history, and you know it, Seamus. You only beat us because Maddock decided to use football tactics instead of Quidditch ones.”
Seamus burst out laughing. “Oh, Maddock! That poor guy really thought he was on a soccer field. But admit it, Harry, the loss still stings.”
“Not at all,” Harry replied with a grin. “But I don’t think your Kestrels have much else to brag about besides last year.”
Dean, who had been quiet, looked puzzled. “Wait... isn’t Quidditch just a sport?”
Neville turned to him. “It is, but apparently, it’s also an excuse for fans to argue.”
Harry chuckled and turned to Dean. “Think of Quidditch like football, but in the air on broomsticks. There are three balls: the Quaffle, which you use to score; the Bludgers, which try to knock you off your broom; and the Golden Snitch, which is worth loads of points.”
Dean looked intrigued. “And how do you win?”
Harry was about to answer when the compartment door swung open, cutting the conversation short.
Three boys stepped in.
Harry immediately recognized the pale boy from Madam Malkin’s shop. He was staring at Harry with much more interest than he had shown at Diagon Alley.
“So it’s true?” the boy asked. “They’re saying all over the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment. Is it you?”
“Yes,” Harry said, glancing at the other two boys. They were stocky, with mean expressions, standing on either side of the pale boy like bodyguards.
“Oh, this is Crabbe, and that’s Goyle,” the pale boy said casually, noticing Harry’s look. “And I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.”
Ron let out a loud cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Draco Malfoy turned to him, his eyes narrowing.
“Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask yours. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”
Ron stood up, glaring at Malfoy, but Malfoy turned his gaze to Neville, who was fidgeting nervously.
“Oh, look, it’s the boy who lost his toad. Starting a club for losers, Potter?” Malfoy sneered, turning back to Harry.
Dean crossed his arms protectively. “Maybe you should learn some manners, Malfoy.”
Malfoy slowly turned to Dean, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, interesting,” he said venomously. “You’re new to our world, aren’t you? Tell me, do you even know how to hold a wand, or do you think it works like a flashlight?”
Dean didn’t flinch. “And can you go anywhere without these two gorillas following you, or do they even guard you in the bathroom?”
Crabbe and Goyle clenched their fists, but Harry stepped forward, cutting off the exchange.
“Is there something you want, Malfoy, or are you just here to show off?”
Malfoy’s pale face turned red before he smirked. “I’m here to give you some advice, Potter. Fame attracts the wrong sorts. Sure you’re not surrounding yourself with people who want something from you?”
Seamus scoffed. “And you’re here for his fame too, I suppose? Hypocrite.”
Malfoy ignored him. “You’ll find out soon enough that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. I can help you avoid the wrong crowd.”
“I think I can figure that out on my own, thanks,” Harry said coldly.
Malfoy’s smirk faded into a scowl. “Careful, Potter,” he said slowly. “You don’t want to end up like your parents... or your godfather. Didn’t you know he was disowned by his own family? Stick with the wrong people, and you’ll be just like them.”
Harry took a step forward, fists clenched. “Don’t you dare talk about my father or Sirius. It won’t end well for you.”
Crabbe and Goyle moved forward threateningly, but Ron, Dean, and Seamus stepped up beside Harry, with Neville lingering behind them.
“Three against five,” Seamus said with a cheeky grin. “Not great odds for you, Malfoy.”
Malfoy glared but sneered. “Oh, are you going to fight us?”
Harry, feeling emboldened by the numbers, said, “If you don’t leave, we might.”
Goyle reached for a Chocolate Frog near Ron, but Scabbers leapt forward, biting Goyle’s finger. Screaming, Goyle swung Scabbers away, and the three fled the compartment just as Hermione entered.
“What on earth happened here?” Hermione asked, watching Neville and Seamus pick up sweets from the floor and Ron lift Scabbers by his tail.
“I think he’s done for,” Ron said gloomily, holding the limp rat up. Dean leaned in to inspect him more closely. “No… relax, Ron. He’s just fallen asleep again!”
And indeed, that was the case.
“Do you already know Malfoy?” Hermione asked.
Harry explained their encounter at Diagon Alley.
“I’ve heard about his family,” Neville said darkly. “They were some of the first to switch sides after You-Know-Who disappeared. Claimed they’d been under a spell.”
Ron nodded and added, “Dad doesn’t buy it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need much convincing to join the Dark Side.”
Then, turning to Hermione, he asked, “Need help with anything?”
“You should hurry up and get dressed,” Hermione said. “I just came from the front of the train, and the conductor said we’re almost there. You didn’t get into a fight, did you?”
“Unfortunately, no. We didn’t have time,” Seamus said, feigning disappointment.
“You’re joking, right? You’d be in trouble before we even arrived!” Hermione replied, scandalized, as the others laughed.
“Luckily, Scabbers handled it for us,” Ron muttered, shooting her a sideways glance. “Now, would you mind stepping out while we change?”
“Fine,” Hermione said loftily. “I only came in because there are people acting like children out there, running up and down the corridors.” She paused, then added, “By the way, your nose is dirty. Did you know?”
Ron stared after her as she left, his expression blank. Seamus immediately mimicked Hermione, pointing at his own nose, and the others laughed.
Harry glanced out the window. Twilight was settling in, with the mountains and forests silhouetted against a deep purple sky. The train seemed to be slowing.
The five boys shrugged off their jackets and pulled on their black robes. Ron’s were a little short, leaving his sneakers visible, while Seamus’s were slightly too long. The others fit perfectly.
A voice echoed through the train: “We’ll be arriving at Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately.”
Harry felt his stomach twist with excitement. He noticed that Ron and Neville had gone pale, while Seamus seemed positively thrilled, and Dean shared Harry’s mix of anticipation and nerves. They stuffed the last of the sweets into their pockets and joined the crowd filing into the corridor.
After a final lurch, the train came to a stop. The students jostled toward the doors, stepping out onto a narrow, dark platform. Harry shivered as the cold night air hit him.Above the sea of heads, a lantern flared, and Harry heard a booming, familiar voice. “First years! First years, over here! All right, Harry?”
Hagrid’s beaming, hairy face was unmistakable.
“Come on, follow me... Any more first years? Watch your step! First years, this way!”
Slipping and stumbling, the group followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. The darkness on either side was so deep that Harry guessed the trail was lined with thick trees. Few people spoke, and Neville, still missing Trevor, sniffled quietly a couple of times.
“Just round this bend, you’ll get your first look at Hogwarts!” Hagrid called over his shoulder. “There it is!”
A collective gasp followed.
The narrow path had suddenly opened up onto the edge of a vast, black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the opposite shore was an enormous castle, its many towers and turrets illuminated against the starry sky.
“No more than four to a boat!” Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of small wooden boats bobbing at the water’s edge.
Harry and Ron climbed into a boat, joined by Dean and Seamus. Neville and Hermione paired up with two identical girls who giggled quietly.
“All ready? Right then—off we go!” Hagrid shouted from his own, much larger boat.
The small boats glided smoothly across the glassy surface of the lake. No one spoke, their gazes fixed on the towering castle that grew closer with each passing moment. Its windows shimmered like jewels, casting warm reflections on the water below.
“Mind your heads!” Hagrid bellowed as the first boats neared the cliff face. The students ducked as the boats passed through a curtain of ivy that concealed a large opening in the rock. They entered a long, dark tunnel, which seemed to lead directly beneath the castle, until they emerged at an underground harbor.
“Hey, is this your toad?” Hagrid asked, holding up a small, wriggling figure as he checked the boats.
“Trevor!” Neville cried, overjoyed, as he reached out to take his toad.
The group climbed out of the boats, scrambling over rocks and gravel as Hagrid led them up a passageway carved into the stone. Finally, they emerged onto soft, damp grass at the base of the castle.
The students followed Hagrid up a flight of stone steps, crowding together in front of an enormous oak door.
“Everyone here? And you’ve still got your toad?” Hagrid asked, winking at Neville.
With one massive fist, he knocked three times on the great door.