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┄┄ .•* 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟖 *•. ┄┄

𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚

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There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when Hermione awoke the next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as she got dressed in some skinny jeans and a t-shirt, her leather knee-high boots, and her jacket.

Instead of going down right away, Hermione decided to instead stay up a few more minutes, laying on her bed and staring at the ceiling. Since the previous night, she couldn't help but drown in her thoughts. She couldn't understand what Lily had meant by her mum. As far as she was concerned her parents were in another universe, dead, or somewhere in the world, not giving a crap about her. But now she didn't know what to think anymore. Did Lily know her mum?

Now that Hermione thought of it, a lot of people had been making comments lately. The rat had even mentioned how she looked like her. Whatever the hell that meant. Maybe Hermione was adopted and they just didn't give a background story in the books.

Hermione hadn't even noticed she fell asleep again until she was shaken awake by Ginny.

"Hey, Mione," the red-haired girl said softly, "We're going now."

"Mmm, kay. . . ." Hermione mumbled, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"The twins already took your trunk down, no need to worry about that. Vader too," Ginny said and Hermione smiled sleepily.

"Thanks, Gigi."

Both of them went outside to find everyone watching as the taxi drivers but their heavy Hogwarts trunks into the cars.

"Hermione, honey, you're awake!" Mrs. Weasley smiled after saying something to Harry.

"You should've woke me up, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione, smiling sheepishly.

"Nonsense, dear. You looked so peaceful and exhausted, we decided to let you sleep a bit more," Mrs. Weasley said with a soft smile which Hermione returned.

The journey to the station was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that they were jammed in the back of the taxis with their trunks. They were very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the busy road and into the station—though Hermione was cursing the rain all the way there, for ruining her hair; which started to frizz, making Hermione reluctantly put her hair up in a bun.

By now, she was used to getting to platform nine and three quarters, however, she was always apprehensive the barrier would close, and she'd break her neck and die.

They did it in groups today; Harry, Ron, and Hermione (the most conspicuous, since they were accompanied by Pigwidgeon and Vader) went first; they leaned casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and slid sideways through it . . . and as they did so, platform nine and three-quarters materialized in front of them.

The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist, and Vader rolled its eyes at the owl on crack.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off to find seats and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. They then hopped back down onto the platform to say goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.

"Thank you for letting me stay this summer, Mrs. Weasley, I had a great time," said Hermione gratefully as she smiled at the older woman.

"You're most welcome, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, crushing Hermione in a hug.

Then Hermione turned to Bill.

"I'll miss you, William. No one gets me as you do," Hermione said dramatically.

"Fair well, my fair lady, and if ever in doubt seek an expert," he said, flailing his hands around jus as dramatically as Hermione, causing the two to burst out laughing. Hermione hugged him and then went to hug Charlie.

"You'll have to send me letters about that dragon you were telling me about," Hermione demanded with a smile, and then shrugged her shoulders, saying in afterthought, "About everything really." 

Charlie laughed as he crushed her in a bear hug.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny goodbye.

"Why?" said Fred keenly.

"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it . . . it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I was back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.

"Why?" said George impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it. . . ."

"A bit of what?" said Ron.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

"Thanks again, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but . . . well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with . . . one thing and another."

"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting — mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules —"

"What rules?" said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together and Hermione sniggered.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you. . . . Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?"

The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"

But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what—"

"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry and Ron listened and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

". . . Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore—the man's such a Mudblood-lover—and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do. . . ."

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

"Please. He'd die in Drumstrang," Hermione scoffed.

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yeah," said Hermione.

"I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Not sure. North?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows. 

"North isn't a country," Ron deadpanned and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Obviously. But I can't know where it is, now can I?"

"Er—why not?" said Harry.

"The schools are hidden," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts—how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

"Well, seeing as Hogwarts is hidden. . . . I'd say is possible," said Hermione.

"So go on—how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?" said Ron.

"Magic," Hermione deadpanned and Harry burst into laughter as Ron scowled.

"But how?"

"I don't know the technicalities. If a Muggle looks at it, they will see ruins or some shit." Hermione shrugged. "I'm not a bloody walking encyclopedia, Ronald. But I do know Drumstrang is somewhere North. That's about it."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident. . . . Shame his mother likes him. . . ."

"Speaking of ferrets. . . ." Hermione began as she turned to check if the door was locked. Once she did she turned to the boys. "I need to talk to you guys."

"What about?" they both asked curiously.

"About the Animagi project, you bimbos," Hermione said obviously. "You still haven't answered."

"I'm in," said Harry with no hesitation, a fond smile on his face."I want to make my dad proud." 

Hermione smiled at him, shifting her gaze to a proud-looking James Potter sitting in the free spot next to his son.

"He is, Prongslet," she said softly and Harry grinned.

"Why not? I'm in," Ron answered with a shrug, a smile tugging at his lips. "Besides, if we ever do go to Azkaban we can always get out. Snuffles did."

"Great! But you're helping me."

"Yes, Hermione."

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share.

Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus, Dean, and Neville. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking "Troy—Mullet—Moran!" but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way. Hermione had beamed at the three when they arrived and jumped to hug them. Taking a picture of all of them (of course) and then they proceeded to talk about the Quidditch Cup.

Neville listened jealously to the others' conversation as they relived the Cup match.

"Gran didn't want to go," he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"It was," said Ron. "Look at this, Neville. . . ." 

He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum.

"Oh wow," said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.

"We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box—"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

"I met the Irish team!" Hermione said, ignoring the Slytherins who had just walked in the doorway. Dean and Seamus turned to her with their mouths agape, them too, ignoring the Slytherins.

"You did?"

"Mhm. They're really nice," said Hermione with an excited grin. "Aidan Lynch said he would owl me."

"I wouldn't count on it, mudblood." she heard Malfoy say, and, in an instant, she and Neville were grabbing their four friends to prevent them lunging at the blond boy—who staggered back.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly glaring at Malfoy.

"Weasley . . . what is that?" said Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage—attempting to distract the four fuming lions. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, sway- ing with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean—they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety. . . ."

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" said Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.

"So . . . going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know . . . you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won. . . ."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Malloy, don't you have a date with your hand?" Hermione asked him with a sweet smile and while the others snorted, Malfoy turned pink but didn't acknowledge her.

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago . . . heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry. . . . Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley . . . yes . . . they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him. . . ."

Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared.

Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.

"That was awesome!" said Hermione high-fiving Ron, as Dean and Seamus nodded approvingly. "Reparo!" she then said, pointing her wand at the door, and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well . . . making it look like he knows everything and we don't. . . ." Ron snarled. " 'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry.'. . . Dad could've got a promotion any time . . . he just likes it where he is. . . ."

"Of course he does," said Hermione. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron—"

"Him! Get to me!? As if!" said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

"So, Mione, what about Aidan Lynch?" asked Dean, as Seamus nodded eagerly, and Hermione grinned, proceeding to tell them the story.

Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey—Seamus, and Dean had left them a while later. At some point, Hermione had gone to the bathroom to change into her uniform, her leather jacket on top of it, and even when she got back to the compartment Ron was fuming. And he was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder over- head. Hermione bundled up Vader in her jacket and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.

"Poor Firsties, their hair is going to get all frizzy and ugly," said Hermione said looking at the rain disapprovingly as her friends laughed. 

Shivering as they inched slowly along with the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred carriages pulled by Thestrals—creatures Hermione found dazzling—stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.

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