The morning of 1 September was unusually quiet. Almost no one spoke over breakfast. Mum tried to say something several times, but each time she fell silent without finishing. Dad was studying the newspaper far too intently, although Hermione was almost certain he had been looking at the same paragraph for several minutes. She herself ate slowly, barely tasting the food, and kept catching herself thinking that this was her last ordinary breakfast before something completely unknown.
After breakfast, the trunk and bags were loaded into the car, and soon the Granger family were on their way to King's Cross Station. Outside the car window, the city was going about its usual business on the first of September. The streets were full of children in school uniform. Some held tightly to their parents' hands and looked around. Others laughed with friends they had not seen all summer. Some trudged along as though the holidays had ended in the most unfair way in the world.
Hermione watched them through the car window and suddenly found herself envying the familiar mixture of excitement and nerves they felt. Those children knew where they were going. They knew where their school was, what the classrooms looked like, which teachers were strict and which only pretended to be.
She did not.
Somewhere ahead, a school hidden from ordinary people was waiting for her, along with a whole world in which, so far, she knew only a few names from textbooks and magazines. Even so, she decided to act confident. Not overconfident, of course, but enough to make sure no one thought she was an outsider.
The Grangers arrived at the station a little earlier than the agreed time. After parking the car and loading Hermione's things onto a trolley, they went inside. The station was busy with the morning rush. Announcements of train arrivals and departures blended with the endless noise of the crowd hurrying in every direction. People rushed past, overtaking one another. Some were saying goodbye, some were meeting someone, while others, like the Grangers, stood uncertainly, trying to work out where to go next.
Hermione suddenly realised that they had not been given any exact instructions. For some reason, she had never thought about how they were supposed to find the right person in the vast main hall of King's Cross. A Ministry representative was meant to meet them at the station, but Mr Bridge had not said where exactly. Near the ticket offices? By the platforms? At the main entrance? It now seemed like an annoying oversight.
She was about to mention it to her parents when her eyes settled on a woman in a long, dark green cloak. The woman was pushing a trolley with a huge, worn trunk on it and an owl cage perched on top. A boy of about eleven walked beside her. He looked nervous and kept glancing at his mother. The woman cast quick looks around, as though checking whether anyone was watching them too closely.
A few moments later, Hermione spotted another family like them. Then another. They almost disappeared into the crowd, but now that Hermione knew what to look for, more and more of them seemed to appear: children with unusually large trunks, cages with animals, and parents who spoke in low voices and kept a little apart from the other passengers. And all of them, one by one or in small groups, were moving in the same direction. Towards platforms nine and ten.
A light bump from a boy running past brought her back to the present. Apparently, his rucksack had caught her, and he had not even noticed.
"Sweetheart, where do we go next?" Emma asked, sounding slightly puzzled. "Did Mr Bridge tell you anything about that?"
Hermione looked around once more. Seeing no one who looked as though they worked for the Ministry of Magic, she said confidently,
"Follow me."
She headed in the same direction as the other groups of people who had caught her attention. But she had barely taken a couple of steps when a short, thin man seemed to appear out of nowhere and blocked her path. He was wearing a shabby tailcoat and a top hat, and a monocle glinted in his right eye. His mouth, framed by a thin moustache, curved slightly into something resembling a smile as he spoke in a raspy voice with feigned politeness.
"Miss Granger, if I am not mistaken?"
"Yes, that's me," Hermione replied, recoiling slightly from the stranger who had appeared so suddenly.
"I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long?" he said indifferently, then immediately added, "Theodore Flibust, Ministry of Magic. At your service."
"Pleased to meet you," Hermione replied.
In truth, she was not pleased at all. She had disliked him from the moment she saw him. This wizard seemed the complete opposite of Gareth Bridge, who had accompanied them last time. Unlike the friendly wizard with his dignified appearance, Theodore Flibust looked like a vain little dandy who was clearly annoyed at having to carry out his duties. Every word he said sounded insincere.
"John Granger." Hermione's father stepped forward to greet him and held out his hand.
Mr Flibust shook it reluctantly, then quickly pulled away and wiped his palm with a handkerchief.
"Well then, please follow me to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."
"Which platform?" Hermione asked in surprise, but the Ministry official did not bother to answer. He quickly headed towards the same part of the station that Hermione had already singled out as suspicious. She hurried after him, followed by her parents.
For the next few minutes, they walked in silence, trying not to fall behind Mr Flibust, who strode ahead without looking back. At last, they stopped in front of Platform Nine. The Ministry official came to an abrupt halt, turned to Hermione's parents, looked them over condescendingly and asked in a dry voice,
"Would you like to say goodbye to your daughter?"
"Yes, of course," Emma Granger replied, sounding slightly surprised.
"Then now is your chance. I'm afraid Muggles cannot go any further."
Emma hugged Hermione and held her tightly, unable to hold back her tears. John stood beside them, his face tense and grim. He was clearly trying to stay calm, but his deep breaths betrayed how he felt.
"Please write to us as often as you can," Mum reminded her. "And make sure you brush your teeth every day."
"I promise, Mum," Hermione replied with a smile, feeling a heavy mix of nervous excitement and reluctance to part with her parents.
Saying goodbye was hard enough already, and Mr Flibust's presence only made everything worse. He stood nearby looking as though her parents were an irritating nuisance to be got rid of as quickly as possible.
Trying to control his own emotions, John gave his daughter a steady, encouraging look.
"Be as brave as we know you are, Hermione," he said, his voice faltering slightly.
Hermione nodded. At that moment, Mr Flibust glanced at his watch yet again and said curtly,
"We have to go, Miss Granger."
Hermione looked at her parents one last time and followed her guide with a heavy heart. The Ministry official walked a few steps ahead and stopped beside the barrier separating Platforms Nine and Ten.
"Now all you have to do is walk through this wall, and you'll be on the right platform," he explained briefly.
"What do you mean, through the wall?" Hermione asked in surprise.
Mr Flibust rolled his eyes. Then, speaking with exaggerated slowness as though explaining something to a small child, he said,
"Just follow me, Miss Granger. Don't stop, and you'll see."
With that, he turned and walked straight into the wall.
Taken aback for a moment, Hermione quickly recovered and ran after him, pushing the trolley in front of her. As she emerged on the other side, she crashed into the Ministry official at full speed and knocked him off his feet.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" she cried in alarm.
Anger flashed in Mr Flibust's eyes, but a moment later his face returned to its usual indifferent expression. Grunting, he got to his feet, brushed himself off and gave Hermione a cold look.
"No harm done."
The insincerity in his voice was even more obvious now, and there was a barely concealed dislike beneath it.
Then he continued in an official tone.
"You have arrived at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, Miss Granger. Now all you need to do is board that train."
He pointed to the train standing nearby, which looked like a steam train from the previous century. The words Hogwarts Express were written on its side.
"Have a pleasant journey."
With that, Mr Flibust gave a grimace that was apparently meant to be a smile and stepped back through the wall.
Hermione was left standing there alone. Her bags and trunk lay scattered around her, having fallen from the trolley when she crashed into him.
"Welcome, Hermione," she whispered to herself, staring in bewilderment at the wall through which the Ministry official had disappeared.
***
Before long, Hermione was sitting in a compartment with three other pupils who seemed to be about her age. The train had left the station only a short while ago, and they had a long journey to Hogwarts ahead of them. Hermione had entered the compartment in low spirits. The day of her departure had turned out nothing like she had imagined. Her parents had been left far behind, and the Ministry official had turned out to be a rather unpleasant sort. Her first introduction to the magical world had not gone particularly well. She sighed and looked around, trying to take her mind off it.
Beside her, by the window, sat a girl with black curly hair. Lost in thought, she silently watched the scenery flashing past outside. Her striking features and graceful posture gave her a certain elegance and a quiet air of refinement. She reminded Hermione of the princesses in old fairy tales, and Hermione smiled at the thought before turning her attention to the boy sitting opposite the 'princess'.
The round-faced boy with closely cropped hair looked around, clearly unsure of himself. Hermione immediately felt the urge to say something encouraging to him, even though they did not even know each other yet. A remarkably large toad sat on his lap and caught her eye at once. She thought it was a strange choice of pet, but then remembered that toads were among the animals pupils were allowed to bring to Hogwarts.
Sitting directly opposite Hermione was a red-haired girl. Her hair just brushed her shoulders, and her bright blue eyes and slightly pointed nose made her face lively and memorable. Her bright red handbag was just as eye-catching. She was looking curiously at the other passengers in the compartment. When she met Hermione's eyes, she gave her a friendly smile and held out her hand.
"Nancy Magwort," she said, introducing herself.
"Hermione Granger," Hermione replied, shaking her hand.
"Granger?" Nancy raised one eyebrow slightly. "I've never heard that surname before. And I've studied the family trees of magical families quite a lot. I thought I knew most of them! What do your parents do?"
"They're dentists," Hermione replied a little tensely, feeling herself begin to grow nervous.
"Dentists? Is that some kind of department at the Ministry of Magic?" Nancy looked completely baffled.
"No, my parents aren't wizards. They look after people's teeth," Hermione explained with an uncertain smile.
Surprise showed on Nancy's face. She turned away and stared out of the window, as though trying to hide her feelings. Hermione felt indignation rising inside her. After meeting Mr Flibust, she had already realised that some wizards looked down on Muggles. But apparently, the same attitude extended to children born into Muggle families.
"What's the matter?" she asked defiantly.
Everyone turned to look at Nancy. She glanced around and, sensing the tension hanging in the compartment, said slowly and reluctantly,
"My parents say that Muggles can't have children who are real witches or wizards. And if such children do appear, they shouldn't be allowed to study at Hogwarts."
"Then where are they supposed to study?" Hermione asked sharply.
Nancy did not seem to have thought about that, but the black-haired girl sitting beside Hermione spared her from having to answer.
"In my opinion, that's all prejudice," she said unexpectedly. "If someone has magical abilities, then by definition they are a witch or wizard. Anything else is just the envy of those less gifted in magic."
"And who are you?" Nancy rounded on her, clearly offended by what she had said. "Are you from a Muggle family too?"
"No. My name is Miranda Ravenclaw," the girl replied with dignity.
A strange mixture of admiration and irritation flashed across Nancy's face. The boy with the toad also stared at Miranda, his mouth open in surprise.
"Is that the same as one of the houses at Hogwarts?" Hermione could not help asking.
"Yes, exactly," the black-haired girl replied, a hint of pride in her voice.
"Well, then I know which house you'll be sorted into," Hermione said cheerfully.
"Really?" Miranda replied with mild irony.
Unlike Nancy, however, there was neither arrogance nor rejection in her voice. Nancy, meanwhile, looked as though she was struggling with herself. At last, she said defiantly,
"But what about our traditions?" She turned to Miranda, pointing at Hermione. "She clearly knows very little about our world. People like her bring their Muggle ways into it instead of embracing ours."
"I'm almost certain that's exactly what your parents say," Miranda said with a friendly, teasing smile. "But what do you think about it?"
Nancy hesitated. It was obvious that Miranda had hit the mark.
"Well... I... think my parents are right," Nancy grumbled. Then she pulled a copy of 'Wizarding Chic' from her handbag and hid behind it, shutting herself off from the others.
Miranda's support could not have come at a better time. After meeting Mr Flibust, it was especially important for Hermione to hear that not all wizards looked down on people like her.
Hermione's eyes then fell on the round-faced boy, who was occupied with his toad.
"What's your name?" she asked him.
The boy looked up from the toad and turned to her.
"Neville Longbottom," he replied uncertainly, lowering his eyes in embarrassment.
His name seemed to be known in the wizarding world as well. Miranda, at least, looked at him with interest. Hermione also remembered seeing the Longbottom name in one of her books on the modern history of the wizarding world. After learning why Harry Potter was famous, she had ordered several books on the subject and studied it quite thoroughly.
Then she remembered.
"Your parents... they... they were..." she blurted out without thinking, then immediately broke off. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
Neville visibly shrank into himself.
"It's all right," he said quietly without looking up.
Hermione felt her cheeks burn. For a few moments, the compartment fell completely silent. Even Nancy stopped rustling the pages of her magazine, while Neville went back to stroking the toad on his lap as though it were the most important thing in the world at that moment.
***
A few hours had passed since the train left the station. Everyone in the compartment was occupied with something. Miranda was knitting a delicate lace scarf and occasionally admiring the scenery outside the window. Neville was giving all his attention to his toad. Nancy was reading a wizarding fashion magazine with interest. All in all, it was fair to say that conversation in their compartment had not really taken off.
Hermione was also reading in silence, but she could not concentrate. Her thoughts kept returning to Hogwarts and to what lay ahead of her. Eventually, she put the book aside and decided to explore the train.
It vibrated and swayed gently as it moved. As Hermione passed the open doors of other compartments, she saw all sorts of scenes. In some, children were laughing and chatting; in others, they were arguing, while elsewhere they were sharing magical sweets, probably bought from the plump witch with a trolley whom Hermione had met along the way.
In one of the carriages, Hermione came across something that caught her interest. A pale, fair-haired boy stood in the corridor, surrounded by a large group of children. Hermione moved a little closer and listened to what he was saying.
"...and anyway, my father is an important man at the Ministry of Magic," he was saying in a very confident and slightly arrogant voice. "Minister Fudge himself often asks his advice on all sorts of matters."
He paused to give the children around him time to appreciate the importance of what he had said, then continued.
"So I'm sure everyone at Hogwarts already knows who I am. And they'll treat me accordingly."
The other children looked at him enviously and nodded. They clearly had no doubt that his connections would immediately give him a special status at the school.
'So, quite predictably, parents' status matters here too,' Hermione thought, remembering Barbara and her father. 'I wonder what this boy's father does at the Ministry that makes him so important.'
"So, if you want to make the right sort of friends at Hogwarts, stick with me," the boy continued, puffing out his chest slightly. "You certainly won't go wrong with me."
Then he turned to one of the biggest boys in the group and asked,
"What's your name? You look like you might make a decent wizard."
"Crabbe," he replied in a rough but pleased voice.
Hermione looked Crabbe up and down appraisingly. He looked more like the leader of a school gang than any kind of decent wizard. He would have fitted right in with Jake's crowd at her old school.
"And this is Goyle," Crabbe added, nodding towards another boy about the same size. "My friend."
"Crabbe and Goyle. Remember those names," the fair-haired boy announced solemnly. "They are future great wizards."
Everyone looked at Crabbe and Goyle again, and the pale boy continued, now addressing the two of them directly.
"I think you understand that if you stay on my side, you'll have the right connections, protection and, of course, respect."
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances and nodded. Hermione noticed how closely the fair-haired boy was watching the reactions of those around him, checking what impression his words were making. Some of the children were already beginning to copy the way he carried himself. Others looked embarrassed and unsure, but nodded all the same, clearly not wanting to stand out from the crowd.
Hermione remained by the door for another moment. She wanted to find friends at Hogwarts as soon as possible, but what was happening here did not look anything like friendship. It was more like a bargain. The thought made her feel uneasy, and she turned around and headed back to her compartment.
When she reached the compartment, she stopped at the door after hearing some commotion inside and Nancy's annoyed voice. Hermione looked in and saw a rather unusual scene. Neville was on his knees, searching for something under the seats, while the girls sat with their legs drawn up, watching him with obvious annoyance.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked in surprise.
Neville got up from the floor.
"I've lost my toad," he replied uncertainly. "It keeps getting away from me. Maybe I'm doing something wrong?"
He sounded so lost that Hermione immediately wanted to help him. She looked around the seats and bags, then peered under the bench, just as Neville had done before she arrived. After that, she straightened up, dusted off her hands and said,
"Don't worry. We'll find it. It couldn't have jumped out of the train while it was moving."
Neville shrugged, and Hermione immediately got to work. First, they carefully searched the entire compartment again. The toad was nowhere to be found. Hermione then began asking Neville questions. Had the door been open while she was away? Had anyone come into the compartment? It turned out that the witch selling magical treats from a trolley had stopped by, and the toad had disappeared after her visit.
"Then that explains it!" Hermione concluded at once. "There's no point looking for it in here. It probably got out into the corridor while you were choosing something to eat."
Neville lowered his eyes guiltily. Hermione immediately realised that he was already blaming himself for being distracted by the sweets and failing to keep an eye on his toad.
"Come on," she said firmly.
Without giving him time to get even more upset, she took Neville by the hand and led him out of the compartment. Together, they set off in search of Trevor, Neville's toad.
They began by heading towards the back of the train. Hermione and Neville took turns looking into compartments and asking whether anyone had seen a toad. Most people simply said no, sometimes irritably, making no attempt to hide their annoyance at being disturbed over something so trivial. A few times, they were told to get out. They were often laughed at as well. Toads, it seemed, were considered the sort of pet only losers chose, so some pupils tried to 'comfort' Neville with remarks such as, 'It ran away? Good. You should be glad, not looking for it.'
With every answer like that, Hermione grew more irritated. Eventually, she decided that they needed to be more persistent, or no one would ever take them seriously. From then on, whenever she entered another compartment, she put on the most official manner she could manage and asked her question in a firm tone that invited no argument. There were indeed fewer jokes, though noticeably more irritated replies. But that did not stop Hermione.
Near the very end of the train, she followed Neville into another compartment and asked firmly,
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."
There were two boys in the compartment, both clearly first-years. One was thin and black-haired, with glasses. The other was red-haired and freckled and, judging by his expression, very unhappy to see them. He was holding a wand.
"We've already told him we haven't seen it," the red-haired boy said, nodding at Neville.
Hermione was about to leave, but her eyes came to rest on the wand. The red-haired boy was clearly about to do some magic. For a moment, she forgot both about Trevor and the fact that they had not been invited into the compartment.
"Oh, are you doing magic?" she asked quickly. "Let's see it then."
Without waiting for an answer, she sat down in an empty seat. The red-haired boy visibly grew nervous. It seemed that an audience had not been part of his plan. He cleared his throat, muttered a strange string of words and waved his wand.
Nothing happened.
Hermione raised an eyebrow in surprise. She looked at the wand again, then at the boy, and finally at the rat the spell seemed to have been intended for. This was completely different from everything she had read about magic. The books described precise movements and clear, short phrases. This sounded more like a silly children's rhyme.
"Are you sure that's the right spell?" she asked. "Well, it's not very good, is it?"
The red-haired boy frowned. Hermione immediately realised that she should not have said that, but she could no longer stop herself. All morning, she had been dealing with people who looked down on her and her parents. Now she badly wanted to show that she was not an outsider here.
So Hermione started talking. She told them that she had already read several textbooks, that she had tried casting spells, and that a few had even worked. She tried to sound confident, as though all of this were perfectly ordinary to her. At the same time, she badly wanted them to understand that she was every bit a real witch.
When Hermione finally felt that she had made enough of an impression, she remembered her manners.
"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"
"I'm Ron Weasley," the red-haired boy muttered sullenly.
"Harry Potter," said the other boy.
Hermione turned sharply towards him.
Harry Potter. So this was what he looked like.
After everything she had read, Hermione had somehow imagined him differently. Maybe taller. More confident. But sitting in front of her was an ordinary thin boy with glasses.
"Are you really?" Hermione studied him closely. "I know all about you, of course."
And she started talking again, this time about the books she had read, modern wizarding history, and everything she had learned so far. Harry listened as though she were talking about someone else, while Ron looked more and more sullen. It was only when Hermione noticed that Neville was still standing beside her, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other, that she came to her senses.
"Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad," she said, getting to her feet. "You two would better change. I expect we will be there soon."
They quickly made their way back to their compartment, then resumed asking the other pupils about the toad. They were nearing the front of the train when Hermione suddenly heard loud shouting, whistling and whooping from the next carriage.
"What's going on in there?" Neville muttered in alarm.
"Let's find out," Hermione said firmly.
She walked over to the door, pulled it open and froze on the threshold.
Children were leaning out of every compartment. They were shouting, stamping their feet, laughing and calling out to one another. Every eye was fixed on the almost empty corridor, where a large toad sat in the middle of the floor.
For a moment, Hermione thought that the children were somehow frightened of the toad and were hiding from it in their compartments, trying to drive it away with all the stamping and shouting. Then, at the far end of the carriage, she spotted two tall, red-haired boys who were as alike as two peas in a pod. Both strongly reminded her of Ron Weasley, whom she had met not long before, except that they looked far more self-assured.
One of them stood on a small suitcase and called out loudly,
"Last bets, ladies and gentlemen! Last bets! Our green champion hasn't shown much speed so far, but we have faith in his mighty legs!"
"Come on! Jump!" yelled a boy from one of the compartments.
"Let it stay where it is! I bet two Sickles it won't make it to the door!" another boy shouted back.
"And I say it will!"
Meanwhile, the other red-haired twin pointed his wand towards the toad, and a shower of sparks flew from it. The sparks scattered across the floor right beside the toad, making it leap to one side.
"And our contestant makes a determined leap!" the twin standing on the suitcase announced cheerfully. "The direction may be rather unexpected, but that only makes the race more interesting!"
The carriage erupted in laughter.
Neville, who was standing just behind Hermione, still could not see properly. He craned his neck, trying to look over her shoulder.
"What is it?" he asked anxiously. "What's happening?"
Hermione had already realised which toad it was. A dangerous glint appeared in her eyes, but she still stepped aside to let Neville through.
He looked inside and, with a cry of "Trevor!", rushed towards his toad. At that same moment, the toad sprang into action. With several powerful leaps, it bounded straight towards Neville.
"The finish! The finish is near!" one of the twins shouted. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing an incredible burst of speed!"
Neville held out his hands and caught the toad in mid-air. The carriage erupted in shouts.
"That's not fair!"
"The race has been ruined!"
"I want my money back!"
"Did he cross the line, or was he taken out of the race?"
"That's blatant interference in the competition! I demand another race!"
Several pupils immediately crowded around the twins, demanding their winnings or their money back. Others began arguing over whether the race was over.
Hermione stood in the middle of all the commotion looking as though she had just uncovered a criminal organisation.
"How dare you!" she suddenly shouted, trying to make herself heard over the noise.
To her satisfaction, most of the children fell quiet. Hermione stepped forward, glaring angrily at the red-haired twins.
"You stole someone else's toad, tormented it for your own amusement, and you still think it's funny? That is completely unworthy of Hogwarts pupils!"
For a moment, the carriage fell completely silent. Then someone snorted with laughter, and that set everyone off.
"Completely unworthy! Did you hear that?"
"Repent at once, Weasleys!" shouted a pupil who looked about the same age as the twins. "Go on, new girl, give them what for! Sort them out!"
The noise returned twice as loud. Hermione's outrage did not seem to faze anyone. If anything, it only amused them more.
'Weasleys. Just as I thought,' Hermione snorted inwardly, glaring at the twins.
The twins exchanged a look. Then one of them stepped forward, pretended to take off a hat and gave Hermione a deep bow.
"Oh, forgive us, Mrs Filch," he said in a voice that trembled theatrically. "We had no idea you were patrolling the train. Otherwise, we would never have dared do such a thing."
The other twin jumped down from the suitcase he had been standing on, immediately lowered his head and placed a hand over his heart.
"We repent, Mrs Filch. Deeply and sincerely. Believe us!"
"Our behaviour was unworthy," the first twin continued. "We beg your generous forgiveness."
"And we promise that from now on we'll only have fun in ways worthy of Hogwarts," the second added. "By the way, could you give us a list of such activities?"
The carriage burst into laughter again. Hermione snorted loudly. Answering these clowns was beneath her dignity. She turned sharply and walked out of the carriage, with Neville hurrying after her, clutching Trevor tightly to his chest.
For quite some time, shouts continued to follow them from behind.
"Mrs Filch, where are you going?"
"Come back and punish the Weasleys!"
"Mrs Filch, we won't do it again! Forgive us!"
'I wonder who Mrs Filch is,' Hermione thought darkly. 'Probably not someone they're very fond of.'
"How can they behave like that?" she said indignantly to Neville once the noise was behind them. "And they're older pupils!"
Neville hurriedly nodded in agreement, holding the toad in his arms and stroking it. As they made their way back, Hermione became more and more worked up, while he only occasionally murmured his agreement. Deep down, he was already more afraid of this angry girl than of those red-haired boys.
"I think we absolutely have to report this," Hermione finally declared. "Do you know if there's a teacher on the train? Or someone responsible for keeping order? Maybe the train driver?"
Neville did not like that idea at all.
"Maybe we shouldn't?" he suggested quietly. "Trevor's all right. We found him. And they probably won't do it again –"
Hermione stopped and looked at him, her lips pressed tightly together.
"That is completely unacceptable," she said sharply. "Are you afraid of them? You can't let them behave like that and get away with it."
Neville nodded again, although it was clear from his face that he very much wanted to leave things as they were and simply go back to the compartment. Hermione gave him another disapproving look, then turned and walked quickly ahead. Neville sighed and trudged after her.
Leaving Neville in the compartment, Hermione set off in search of the teachers, or at least someone who could rein in those unbearable Weasleys. She made her way through the entire train to the very front and even looked into the driver's cab.
Unfortunately, the driver could not help her with punishing the twins, but he was more than happy to tell Hermione all sorts of fascinating details about the train and how it worked. To her surprise, she learned that despite its appearance, the Hogwarts Express did not run on steam at all, but was powered entirely by magic. Its old-fashioned appearance, which had hardly changed in more than a hundred years, had been chosen for a reason. Back when attention-diverting charms still left much to be desired, an ordinary-looking steam train had provided excellent cover from Muggles.
After spending a fascinating half-hour in the driver's cab, Hermione finally headed back. But after passing the first carriage, she suddenly stopped.
This was the prefects' carriage.
'This is where I can find someone who can deal with the Weasleys,' she thought at once.
Hermione turned around, went back and approached a dark-haired boy who looked old enough and confident enough to be in charge of keeping order.
"Excuse me," she began. "Could you help me? Are you a prefect?"
"Yes." The boy looked at her with curiosity. "Has something happened?"
"Do you happen to know the Weasley twins?" Hermione got straight to the point.
"Of course I do," he replied with a slight smirk. "Who doesn't?"
"What house are they in? And who is their prefect?" Hermione could barely contain her impatience.
"Gryffindor," the boy said. "And their prefect is their brother, Percy Weasley. So what happened?"
There was obvious interest in his voice now. Hermione froze for a moment.
Percy Weasley? Their brother?
Everything immediately fell into place. That explained why the twins misbehaved so freely and did not seem afraid of the consequences at all. Their brother probably just turned a blind eye to everything they did.
The dark-haired boy was still waiting for an answer.
"Nothing serious," Hermione said quickly. "I was just curious. I really want to be sorted into Gryffindor too. It would be nice to be in the same house as them."
Having said that, and feeling that she had not been completely honest, Hermione did not linger and continued on her way. After leaving the prefects' carriage, she glanced back at it once more, shook her head and headed towards her own compartment. No matter how outrageously the Weasley twins had behaved, starting off with Gryffindor by complaining about the prefect's brothers was beginning to seem less and less like a good idea.
Just then, the train began to slow down. Hermione quickly looked out of the window and, seeing that they were almost there, hurried back to her compartment. Only then did she realise that she still had not changed into her robes.
***
When the train came to a stop with a low groan, the corridors immediately filled with bustle. Compartment doors opened one after another, pupils pulled out their trunks and hurried outside. Hermione followed the others and stepped onto the platform.
After the warmth of the train, it felt unexpectedly cool outside. Hermione shivered and looked around. Lamps flooded the platform with yellow light, but just beyond them the darkness began. The pupils around her moved with confidence, as though they knew exactly where to go, while Hermione stopped for a moment, unsure of what to do. Her parents were no longer with her. Neither was the Ministry official. Now she had to work out what to do next on her own.
Then a voice boomed across the platform.
"First-years! First-years, over here!"
Hermione jumped and turned around. At the far end of the platform, among clouds of steam, stood an enormous figure. The man, if he even was a man, was almost twice as tall as any adult Hermione had ever seen. His broad shoulders, tangled beard and huge hands, which he waved as he called the children over, did nothing to make him look trustworthy.
The youngest pupils began gathering around him from all directions. Hermione felt her heart tighten unpleasantly. Why were they going to him? Was he really the person who was supposed to meet the first-years? What if he was some kind of impostor taking advantage of the fact that the children were confused and did not know where to go?
She instinctively took a step back.
But then she noticed several older pupils calmly walking past the giant. One of them even waved to him and called out something cheerfully. The giant laughed loudly in reply. Hermione forced herself not to back away any farther. The older pupils seemed to know him and clearly were not afraid of him.
She looked at him more closely and suddenly remembered Diagon Alley. There had been a giant there too, just as huge and just as shaggy. It seemed to be the same man. Pushing aside her doubts, Hermione finally walked towards the group of first-years.
The giant's tangled hair and thick beard hid almost all of his face. He was wearing an old jacket of an incredible size and heavy boots, each of which would have reached almost to Hermione's waist.
"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry Potter called from nearby.
The giant turned and smiled broadly at him.
"Harry! There you are. Stay close to me."
Hermione looked at Harry with curiosity. Apparently, he already knew this giant too.
When Hagrid had finally gathered all the new pupils around him, he led them along a narrow path through the forest in the darkness of the night. Hermione walked beside Neville, carefully watching her step and trying not to trip.
"Just a few more seconds and you'll see Hogwarts!" their guide suddenly called out.
The path brought them to a lake, and Hermione stopped dead.
On the far shore, high above the water, stood a castle. Its towers rose against the dark sky. Hundreds of lights shone in its windows, their reflections trembling in the black water. Gasps and cries of amazement immediately rose from the shore. Hermione stared at Hogwarts, unable to look away. After everything strange and awkward that had happened that day, here at last was exactly what she had dreamed of: a real magical castle.
"Four to a boat, no more!" Hagrid's voice boomed.
Hermione quickly looked around and pulled Neville towards the nearest boat, where Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were already sitting.
'I wonder how many Weasleys there are at Hogwarts altogether,' she thought, giving Ron a slightly unfriendly look.
He did not seem particularly pleased to see her again either.
The boats set off across the lake, heading straight towards the castle, whose outline stood out against the dark sky. They moved on their own, without oars or sails, gliding silently over the black water. Hermione noticed it at once and felt a burst of excitement inside her. Another real miracle.
Before long, the boats slipped into a dark tunnel and came to a stop at an underground landing. Hagrid gathered the first-years and led them towards an old stone staircase leading upwards. When they reached the top, they found themselves on a wide lawn right by the castle gates. The giant looked over the first-years, made sure no one had fallen behind, and knocked loudly three times on the massive door.