Hogwarts Express – The Malfoy Heir
Harry stopped a passing guard but didn’t dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts, and when Harry couldn’t even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Harry was being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, Harry asked for the train that left at eleven o’clock, but the guard said there wasn’t one. In the end, the guard strode away, muttering about time-wasters. Harry was now trying hard not to panic. While Dudley was just awkwardly trailed after Harry, his parents had just left him, and they had to locate platform nine and three-quarters. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, Dudley and I had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts, and Harry had no idea how to do it; he was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money and a large owl, although Dudley only has a Heavy trunk.
McGonagall must have forgotten to tell them something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. He wondered if he should get out his wand and tap the ticket box between platforms nine and ten. At that moment, a group of people passed just behind them, and he caught a few words of what they were saying.
“– packed with Muggles, of course –”
Harry swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Harry’s in front of him – and they had an owl.
Heart hammering, Harry pushed his trolley after them. They stopped, and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying. Dudley noticed Harry was walking in a specific direction and awkwardly followed him; Dudley was sure Harry wasn't sure where they were going either. Yet, he didn't want to be alone in Kings Cross Station.
“Now, what’s the platform number?” said a plump woman.
“Nine and three-quarters!” piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand. “Mum, can’t I go …”
“You’re not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first.” said the plump woman.
What looked like the oldest boy marched towards platforms nine and ten. Harry watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it – but just as the boy reached the divide between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him, and by the time the last rucksack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.
“Fred, you next,” the plump woman said.
“I’m not Fred; I’m George,” said the boy. “Honestly, woman, call yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I’m George?”
“Sorry, George, dear.” the boys’ mother said.
“Only joking, I am Fred,” said the boy, and off he went.
His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done because a second later, he had gone – but how had he done it?
Now, the third brother was walking briskly towards the ticket barrier – he was almost there – and then, quite suddenly, he wasn’t anywhere. There was nothing else for it.
“Excuse me,” Harry said to the plump woman.
Dudley awkwardly behind Harry with his truck and watched his cousin talk to a woman.
“Hullo, dear,” she said. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.”
She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.
“Yes,” said Harry. “The thing is – the thing is, I don’t know how to –”
“How do you get onto the platform?” she said kindly, and Harry nodded.
“Not to worry,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. You best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.”
“Er – OK,” said Harry.
As soon as Dudley heard that, he froze. They were supposed to run into a brick wall.
Harry pushed his trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid. As he stared at his cousin in shock, Dudley realized that he was actually going to run into a brick wall.
Harry started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box, and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley, he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash –
It didn’t come ... he kept on running ... he opened his eyes.
A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and ThreeQuarters on it. He had done it.
Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted at each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.
Dudley saw his cousin disappear into a brick wall and stared in astonishment, and then the woman noticed him.
“Are you going to Hogwarts as well?” the woman asked.
Dudley awkwardly nodded.
Dudley watched The other boy go through the brick wall. While still staring at the brick wall, he turned his head, and the woman gave him an expectant look. He stared back at the wall before running hesitantly toward it. Even though Harry and the boy who thought his name was Ron went straight through the brick wall, Dudley had expected to crash right into it.
It never happened, and after running for a few seconds, Dudley reluctantly opened his eyes, froze, and then looked up, seeing a sign for platform nine and three-quarters.
The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats; Harry pushed his trolley off down the platform for an empty seat.
Harry passed a round-faced boy who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.”
“Oh, Neville,” he heard the old woman sigh.
A small crowd surrounded a boy with dreadlocks. “Give us a look, Lee, go on.”
The boy lifted a box lid in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.
Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end, and twice, he dropped it painfully on his foot.
“Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box.
“Yes, please,” Harry panted.
“Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!” With the twins’ help, Harry’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.
“Thanks,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.
“What’s that?” exclaimed one of the twins, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.
“Blimey,” said the other twin. “Are you –?”
“He is,” said the first twin.
“Aren’t you?” he added to Harry.
“What?” said Harry.
“Harry Potter,” chorused the twins.
“Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.”
The two boys gawped at him, and Harry felt himself going red.
Then, to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train’s open door.
“Fred? George? Are you there?” asked their mother.
“Coming, Mum.” said the twins.
With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train.
Harry sat down next to the window where, half-hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.
“Ron, you’ve got something on your nose.”
The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and rubbed his nose's end.
“Mum – geroff.” He wriggled free.
“Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?” said one of the twins.
“Shut up,” said Ron.
“Where’s Percy?” said their mother.
“He’s coming now.”
The oldest boy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and Harry noticed a shiny red and gold badge with the letter P on it on his chest.
“Can’t stay long, Mother,” he said. “I’m upfront, the Prefects have got two compartments to themselves –”
“Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?” said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. “You should have said something; we had no idea.”
“Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it,” said the other twin.
“Once –”
“Or twice –”
“A minute –”
“All summer –”
“Oh, shut up,” said Percy the Prefect.
“How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?” said one of the twins.
“Because he’s a Prefect,” said their mother fondly.
“All right, dear, well, have a good term – send me an owl when you get there.”
She kissed Percy on the cheek, and he left. Then she turned to the twins.
“Now, you two – this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you’ve – you’ve blown up a toilet or –” Their mother warned them.
“Blown up a toilet? We’ve never blown up a toilet.”
“Great idea, though, thanks, Mum.”
“It’s not funny. And look after Ron.”
“Don’t worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us.”
“Shut up,” said Ron again.
He was almost as tall as the twins already, and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.
“Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?”
Harry leaned back quickly so they couldn’t see him looking.
“You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?”
“Who?”
“Harry Potter!”
Harry heard the little girl’s voice.
“Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, Mum, oh please …”
“You’ve already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really Fred? How do you know?”
“Asked him. Saw his scar. It’s really there – like lightning.”
“Poor dear – no wonder he was alone. I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get on to the platform.”
“Never mind that do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?”
Their mother suddenly became very stern.
“I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don’t you dare? As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school.”
“All right, keep your hair on.”
A whistle sounded.
“Hurry up!” their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train.
They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them goodbye, and their younger sister began to cry.
“Don’t, Ginny, we’ll send you loads of owls.”
“We’ll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat.”
“George!” yelled the mother.
“Only joking, Mum.”
Dudley stared at the train; looking around he saw a sign that said Platform 9 and 3/4. Looking around, Dudley couldn't see his cousin anywhere, so he walked to the train. His heavy trunk makes it difficult for Dudley to lift onto the train, but after huffing for a few minutes, he drags it onto the train.
Dudley searches for an empty compartment but can't find any, so he decides to look to his cousin instead since he knows nobody in the Wizarding World. He starts walking up the train hallway, dragging his heavy trunk behind him as the train begins to move.
The train began to move. Harry saw the boys’ mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed; then, she fell back and waved.
Harry watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a great leap of excitement. He didn’t know what he was going to – but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind. The compartment door slid open, and the youngest redheaded boy came in.
“Anyone sitting there?” he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry.
“Everywhere else is full.” the redhead boy said.
Harry shook his head, and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and looked quickly out the window, pretending he hadn’t looked. Harry saw he still had a black mark on his nose.
“Hey, Ron.” the doy said.
The twins were back.
“Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train – Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.” said a twin.
“Right,” mumbled Ron.
“Harry,” said the other twin, “did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then.”
“Bye,” said Harry and Ron.
The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.
“Are you really Harry Potter?” Ron blurted out.
Harry nodded.
“Oh – well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes,” said Ron. “And have you really got – you know …”
He pointed at Harry’s forehead. Harry pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar.
Ron stared. “So that’s where You-Know-Who –?”
“Yes,” said Harry, “but I can’t remember it.”
“Nothing?” said Ron eagerly.
“Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.”
“Wow,” said Ron.
He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.
“Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him.
‘Er – yes, I think so,” said Ron, “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”
“So you must know loads of magic already.” said Harry.
The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families that his tutor taught him about.
“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron. “What are they like?”
“Horrible – well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle, and cousin are, though. Wish I’d had three wizard brothers.” Harry remarked.
“Five,” said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy, and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks, and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand, and Percy’s old rat.”
Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat grey rat, which was asleep.
“His name’s Scabbers, and he’s useless; he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a Prefect, but they couldn’t aff– I mean, I got Scabbers instead.” Ron said.
Ron’s ears went pink. He seemed to think he’d said too much because he returned to staring out the window. Harry didn’t think anything was wrong with being unable to afford an owl. After all, he’d never had any money in his life until a month ago, and he told Ron all about having to wear Dudley’s old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up.
“... and until McGonagall told me, I didn’t know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort—” Harry spoke.
Ron gasped.
“What?” said Harry.
“You said You-Know-Who’s name!” said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. “I’d have thought you, of all people –”
“I’m not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name,” said Harry.
“I just never knew you shouldn’t. See what I mean? I’ve got loads to learn ... I bet,” he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, “I bet I’m the worst in the class.”
“You won’t be. There’s loads of people who come from Muggle families, and they learn quick enough.” Harry reassured.
While they were talking, the train carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.
Around half past twelve, there was a great clattering outside in the corridor, and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, “Anything off the trolley, dears?”
Harry, who hadn’t had any breakfast, leaped to his feet, but Ron’s ears went pink again, and he muttered that he’d brought sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor. He had never had any money for sweets with the Dursleys, and now that he had pockets rattling with gold and silver, he was ready to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry – but the woman didn’t have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands, and several other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Saddles and seven bronze Nuts.
Ron stared as Harry brought it all back into the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.
“Hungry, are you?” Ron asks.
“Starving,” said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.
Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches in there. He pulled one of them apart and said, “She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.”
“Swap you for one of these,” said Harry, holding up a pasty. “Go on –”
“You don’t want this, it’s all dry,’” said Ron.
“She hasn’t got much time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.”
“Go on, have a pasty,” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or anyone to share it with. Sitting there with Ron, eating their way through all Harry’s pasties and cakes (the sandwiches were forgotten), it was a nice feeling.
“What are these?” Harry asked Ron, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs.
“They’re not really frogs, are they?” He was starting to feel that nothing would surprise him.
“No,” replied Ron, “But see what the card is, I’m missing Agrippa.”
“What?” Harry asks, confused.
“Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know – Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect – Famous Witches and Wizards. I’ve got about five hundred, but I haven’t got Agrippa or Ptolemy.” explains Ron.
Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man’s face. He wore half-moon glasses, a long crooked nose, flowing silver hair, a beard, and a mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.
“So this is Dumbledore!” said Harry.
“Don’t tell me you’d never heard of Dumbledore!” said Ron, “Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa – thanks –”
Harry turned over his card and read:
Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.
To his astonishment, Harry turned the card back over and saw that Dumbledore’s face had disappeared.
“He’s gone!” Harry exclaimed.
“Well, you can’t expect him to hang around all day.” said Ron.
“He’ll be back. No, I’ve got Morgana again, and I’ve got about six of her ... do you want it? You can start collecting.”
Ron’s eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.
“Help yourself,” said Harry. “But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos.”
“Do they? What, they don’t move at all?” Ron sounded amazed. “Weird!”
Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his card and gave him a small smile.
Ron was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Soon he had not only Dumbledore and Morgana but also Hengist of Woodcraft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. He finally tore his eyes away from the druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans.
“You want to be careful with those,” Ron warned Harry.
“When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour – you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate, peppermint, and marmalade, but then you can get spinach, liver, and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavored one once.” Ron continues.
Ron carefully picked up a green bean, looked at it, and bit into a corner.
“Bleaaargh – see? Sprouts,” said Ron.
They had a good time eating the Every-Flavour Beans. Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, and sardine and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny grey one Ron wouldn’t touch, which turned out to be pepper.
The countryside, now flying past the window, was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now, there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.
There was a knock on the door of their compartment, and the round-faced boy Harry had passed on platform nine and threequarters came in. He looked tearful.
“Sorry,” he said, “but have you seen a toad at all?”
He wailed when they shook their heads, “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!”
“He’ll turn up,” said Harry.
“Yes,” said the boy miserably, “Well, if you see him …”
He left.
“Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” Ron pointed out, “If I’d brought a toad, I’d lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can’t talk.”
The rat was still snoozing on Ron’s lap.
“He might have died, and you wouldn’t know the difference,” Ron said disgustingly.
“I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn’t work. I’ll show you, look …” Ron said.
He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places, and something white glinted at the end.
“Unicorn hair’s nearly poking out. Anyway –” Ron said.
He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back but had a girl with him this time. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.
“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.
“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening; she was looking at the wand in his hand.
“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.” the girl says.
She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.
“Er – all right,” He cleared his throat.
“Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.” Ron says.
He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed grey and fast asleep.
“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” said the girl. “Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice, and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course; I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard – I’ve learned all our set books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”
She said all this very fast.
Harry looked at Ron and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn’t learnt all the set books off by heart either.
“I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron muttered.
“Harry Potter,” said Harry.
“Are you really?” said Hermione. “I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”
“Am I?” said Harry, feeling dazed.
“Goodness, didn’t you know, I’d have found out everything I could if it was me,” noted Hermione.
“Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m in Gryffindor; it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad ... Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better change, you know; I expect we’ll be there soon.” Hermione says, and she leaves, taking the toadless boy with her.
“Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Ron.
He threw his wand back into his trunk.
“Stupid spell – George gave it to me; bet he knew it was a dud.” Ron shrugs.
“What house are your brothers in?” asked Harry.
“Gryffindor,” said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. “Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.”
“That’s the house Vol– I mean, You-Know-Who was in?” Harry inquired.
“Yeah,” said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.
“You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’s whiskers are a bit lighter,” said Harry, trying to take Ron’s mind off houses.
“So what do your oldest brothers do now they’ve left, anyway?”
Harry was wondering what a wizard did once he’d finished school.
“Charlie’s in Romania studying dragons, and Bill’s in Africa doing something for Gringotts,” said Ron.
“Did you hear about Gringotts? It’s been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don’t suppose you get that with the Muggles – someone tried to rob a high-security vault.” asked Ron.
Harry stared.
“Really? What happened to them?” asks Harry.
“Nothing, that’s why it’s such big news. They haven’t been caught. My dad says it must’ve been a powerful Dark wizard to get around Gringotts, but they don’t think they took anything; that’s what’s odd. ’Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who’s behind it.”
Harry turned this news over in his mind. He started to get a prickle of fear every time You-Know-Who was mentioned. He supposed this was all part of entering the magical world, but it had been a lot more comfortable saying ‘Voldemort’ without worrying.
“What’s your Quidditch team?” Ron asked.
“Er – I don’t know any,” Harry confessed.
“What!” Ron looked dumbfounded.
“Oh, you wait, it’s the best game in the world –” And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he’d been to with his brothers and the broomstick he’d like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Harry through the game's finer points when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn’t Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time.
Three boys entered, and He looked at Harry with much more interest than he’d shown back in Diagon Alley.
“Is it true?” he said. “They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?”
“Yes,” said Harry.
He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.
“Oh, this is Crabbe, and this is Goyle,” said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. “And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”
Harry remembering his pure blood Manners lessons from Mrs. Ettington, Harry got up from his seat, ignoring Ron's slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger.
“Hello to you as well, Heir Malfoy.” Harry said politely. “My name's Harry Potter, Heir to the most ancient and Noble House of Potter.”
At that moment, Draco Malfoy, who had turned around about to make a comment in response to Ron snickering at him, froze and immediately turned back to Harry.
“Apologies, Heir Potter, for forgetting my manners. It is nice to meet you.” Draco responded, forgetting about Ron momentarily. He held out his hand to shake Harry’s, and Harry shook Draco's hand.
Draco turned to Ron and said, “You need to improve your manners.” he turned, “I hope we will speak again, Heir Potter.”
“I hope as well, Heir Malfoy,” Harry says as he nods.
“Why were you nice to Malfoy and polite?” Ron asked.
“My muggle relatives raised me, and I didn't know about the Wizarding World until I received my Hogwarts letter. However, Professor McGonagall set me up to take etiquette courses and other lessons on The Wizarding World as I am the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potters. The tutor she had set me up with told me I needed to act appropriately for my station, and knew this. She talked about families; the Malfoys were one of the noble families and part of the Sacred 28. We only learned some of the basics of family history and their position. We didn't have time for more in-depth information on each family. Why do you ask?” Harry explained.
“I’ve heard of his family,” said Ron darkly. “They were some of the first to return to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.”
“So they're part of the dark faction of families?” Harry asked.
“Yes,” Ron responded. Ron looked about to continue, but the compartment door was abruptly shoved open.
Harry saw a Haggard-looking Dudley dragging his trunk.
“There you are,” Dudley said, wheezing, roughly shuffled into the seat, dragging his trunk behind him.
Dudley dragged his trunk through the train, looking for his cousin; he loathed his cousin, but he was the only one he knew, and he would not sit with random Wizards who could curse him, which was no use. He noticed Harry's trunk stored up along with the other person Harry was sitting with. When Dudley looked at his trunk, it was too heavy; he wasn't dragging it up there; he had already dragged it for a while and had even had to stop and take a break leaning against the wall, struggling to catch his breath, in between dragging it up there. As the train moved, he was knocked over several times by the trunk's weight, which knocked him over several times.
Dudley was covered in sweat and was hungry. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and he had also exhausted himself when he had followed the trolley cart. Only when he finally caught up to it learn that they did not accept muggle pounds and he did not have any Wizarding money and couldn't get anything.
Dudley noticed the handful of sweets he had seen on the trolley lying in the seats. Dudley realized that the person Harry was sitting with must have gotten a few things from the trolley and shared them with him. Dudley grumbled but quickly grabbed what was left of the stuff and shoved it into his lap.
Harry just ignored as Dudley proceeded to stuff his face with the remaining sweets that were left. Suddenly, the compartment door opened again, and he saw Hermione.
He asked, “Can we help you with something?”
“You’d better hurry up and put your robes on. I’ve just been up the front to ask the driver, and he says we’re nearly there.” Hermione said.
“All right – I came here because I saw a guy barge in dragging a trunk through the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffy voice. “And you’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?”
Ron glared at her as she left. Harry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky.
Ron asked, “Who are you?” once Hermione had left the compartment.
Harry responded, “Oh, his name's Dudley. It turns out my muggle cousin is a wizard, although I don't know how that happened,” Harry shrugged.
A few minutes later, the train seemed to be slowing down.
Taking off their jackets, Harry and Ron pulled on their school uniform shirts, sweaters, ties, and long black robes. Ron’s were a bit short for him; you could see his trainers underneath them.
Dudley looked up after stuffing his face and noticed the others were changing into their uniforms, and Dudley reluctantly changed into his. However, Dudley noticed that he wasn't the only one in second-hand clothes because the red-headed boy in the compartment where Harry was sitting with his robes was a bit short. Although Dudley's weren't short on him, they did look worn and weren't the proper black they were supposed to be.
A voice echoed through the train: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately.”
Harry’s stomach lurched with nerves, and Ron, he saw, looked pale under his freckles. Also, Dudley appeared to be nervous. Harry and Ron joined the crowd, thronging the corridor; Dudley reluctantly followed.
The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way towards the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: “Firs’-years! Firs’-years over here! All right there, Harry?”
Hagrid’s big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.
“C’mon, follow me – any more firs’-years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’-years follow me!” Hagrid shouted.
Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.
“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called over his shoulder, ‘jus’ round this bend here.”
There was a loud “Oooooh!”
The narrow path suddenly opened onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.
Harry and Ron were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione. As a result, Dudley had to board another boat.
“Everyone in?” shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself, “Right then – FORWARD!”
And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.
“Heads down!” yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads, and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy which hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered onto rocks and pebbles.
“Oy, you there! Is this your toad?” said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.
“Trevor!” cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid’s lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the castle's shadow.
They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge oak front door.
“Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?”
Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.