Fred and George were quickly called away by Lee Jordan, who seemed to have gotten hold of something exciting again—his pocket was bulging and moving.
Hermione and Ginny didn't return to their original carriage. Instead, they sat down here. Hermione was engrossed in listening to Ron describe the trouble they encountered at the station earlier.
She had arrived relatively early and didn't know about the Platform 9 3/4 entrance being blocked. Now, hearing about it, she was startled.
She could hardly imagine how terrible it would be to be late on the first day of school.
"But why was the platform blocked?"
"Good question. That's what I want to know too." Ron rubbed his forehead. Like Harry, he had run straight into the barrier wall.
If it hadn't been for the trolley blocking him, he might have ended up with another scar on his forehead.
"That's a mistake by the Ministry of Magic. The school can't expel you."
"Of course, the school can't expel us—we caught the train."
"Then did you ever think about what you would do if you hadn't caught the train?" Hermione suddenly asked.
Her question immediately piqued everyone's interest.
"Go home and try again tomorrow," Ginny answered first, then quickly glanced at Harry.
If everyone went home, would Harry have to go back to the Burrow too? she thought to herself, not daring to look up.
"Have Dad drive us there," Ron continued, his face full of excitement. "I've always wanted to try the flying function of that car."
Mr. Weasley owned a Ford Anglia, modified with several magical enhancements—like expanding the interior and enabling flight.
During the summer, Fred and George had flown it to Privet Drive to rescue Harry from the attic.
Ron had always wanted to drive it himself again.
"Uh… take the Knight Bus?" Harry offered in a low voice. He only knew about that option because Robert had mentioned it to him once.
"Oh, honestly, I'd rather be late all day than take the Knight Bus to school," Ron said with a frown. "Robert, isn't there any other way?"
"Yes," Robert said. "You could go to the Ministry of Magic, apply for a Portkey to Hogsmeade, or just use the Floo Network. Once you explain the reason, they definitely won't refuse."
"That's a good idea," Ron said with a smile.
It did seem to be the most reliable method.
"Wait a minute—did none of you think about writing to the Professors?" Hermione looked at them in disbelief, then glanced at Hedwig in her cage.
"Harry, you have an owl, don't you?"
"I… I forgot," Harry admitted awkwardly. He truly hadn't thought of asking the Professors for help.
After that, everyone continued to discuss with great interest. What if they encountered a similar situation again? These experiences might come in handy.
Around noon, a plump witch pushing a trolley passed by their carriage. Harry quickly bought a large pile of snacks—more than last year—filling the table completely.
He liked these snacks very much, and since they weren't available at school, he always stocked up on the train.
But this wasn't their actual lunch. Mrs. Weasley had prepared ham sandwiches for them ahead of time, and Robert received a portion too. They tasted quite good.
"You're lucky Mum didn't make corned beef sandwiches today," Ron said, clearly displeased by that particular flavor.
Robert also took out the Butterbeer he had bought at the Leaky Cauldron. He had originally planned to buy lunch but couldn't stand the smell of garlic filling the carriage, so he gave up.
Butterbeer proved more popular than iced pumpkin juice. The three bottles were quickly shared among the five of them.
With the ham sandwiches and cauldron cakes for dessert, it could just barely be considered a hearty lunch.
After lunch, they played Wizard Chess and Exploding Snap together for a while.
Robert hadn't been very interested at first, but after losing to Ron twice in a row at chess, he got a bit competitive.
The sky outside began to darken, and the temperature in the carriage dropped considerably.
Outside the window, the turrets and towers of Hogwarts Castle could already be seen silhouetted against the darkening horizon, perched high atop the cliffs.
Yellow light bathed the dim carriage.
"We're almost there," Hermione said, remembering that last year the train arrived shortly after the lights came on.
"The train will reach Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train…"
The familiar announcement sounded. Harry and the others quickly tidied up the table and put on their Hogwarts robes.
The train arrived, and they squeezed through the crowd on the platform to get off.
"First years, first years this way…"
Harry instinctively followed Ginny toward Hagrid before catching the clear eyes of the first years and Hagrid's puzzled look.
"Harry, you're going the wrong way," Robert said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. "You're in your second year now—you don't need to take the boat."
"Sorry, I forgot." Harry lowered his head and returned to Ron's side. "Why didn't you remind me?"
"I didn't expect you to move so fast!" Ron replied. As soon as Harry got off the train, he had darted toward Hagrid. Ron really hadn't reacted in time.
After parting ways with Ginny, they followed the crowd toward a rough, muddy path, where at least a hundred carriages were parked—or rather, carriage compartments.
"Looks like we'll be taking those to the Castle," Hermione noted as she saw older students boarding the carriages.
Each carriage fit exactly four people. After they all climbed in, it started to sway forward.
"It's amazing—it's moving on its own," Harry said in surprise.
"It must be magic," Hermione said. "Just like the boats last year. Not many of us knew how to row, right?"
Harry nodded. That made sense.
The carriage passed through two grand, wrought-iron gates and traveled up a long, uphill driveway, steadily approaching the Castle.
Finally, the carriage came to a stop. Robert was the first to hop off and happened to catch sight of the Whomping Willow not far away.
Under the moonlight, the Whomping Willow looked calm, occasionally shaking a leaf as if stretching.
Suddenly, a thought struck Robert.
If Harry and Ron hadn't boarded the train that morning, they might've flown the Ford Anglia straight into the Whomping Willow by now.
How many branches would they break? Maybe even the main trunk.
If he were standing nearby, he could have picked them all up…
No. He had to stop thinking about that.
Robert felt a pang in his chest and stood there in a daze, until Professor McGonagall came over to urge them inside.
Only then did he slowly walk toward the Castle, looking back every few steps.
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