Chapter 8
iiit!" Harry exclaimed, startled and seeming to wake up.
Snapping his eyes open with his heart hammering in his chest, Harry sat almost bolt upright.
"Harry?!" exclaimed Hermione, wide-eyed from where she was sitting next to him in the taxi.
Harry quickly looked about. He was sitting in the middle in the back of a muggle taxi weaving it's way through London traffic. On his left was Hermione; on his right was Ron. Mrs Weasley was sitting in the front, and had turned around to look at him, quite curiously.
"Sorry! Sorry!" he stammered. "I think I was having a bit of a scary dream. It's gone now."
"Merlin, mate!" said Ron, a little rattled. "You near scared the life out of me!"
"Well, as long as you're alright, dear," said Mrs Weasley. "She took another long look at him before she added, "We're almost there." And turned back around in her seat.
After a long look at Harry, Ron had turned to look back out the side window on his side, so Harry used the opportunity to lightly grasp Hermione's hand where it was resting on the seat between them. He gave it a light squeeze and turned to look at her.
She was looking at him in both surprise and worry. And... something else.
Making sure neither Weasley was watching him, Harry leaned over and whispered in Hermione's ear. "I'm back," he simply and quietly said.
Pulling back, he looked for confirmation in Hermione's face. And he saw it, when she looked back at him with surprise and happiness. She gave his left hand a gentle, quick squeeze in return.
Turning to look at his so-called best mate, Harry could feel the loyalty potion in his system make him want to tell the boy everything. His Occlumency helped him out there.
The remainder of the journey was uncomfortable, owing to how they were jammed in the back of the taxi with one of their trunks... the other two sticking out of the boot... and, owing to how both Harry and Hermione were feeling uncomfortable around the two Weasleys. Crookshanks had also taken quite a while to recover from the fireworks that had gone off earlier, as the twins' trunks were being loaded into their taxi. It also took Harry a few minutes to remember the taxi behind them carried Charlie, the twins and Ginny.
By the time they entered London, Harry, Ron and Hermione were all severely scratched. 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.
Harry was very much used to getting onto Platform 9¾, by now. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms 9 and 10. The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention. They did it in groups today; Harry, Hermione and Ron (the most conspicuous, since they were accompanied by Hedwig, Pigwidgeon and Crookshanks) went first; they leaned casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and slid sideways through it. As they did, Platform 9¾ 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; while Hedwig remained quiet and aloof.
The three then set off to board the train and 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, Charlie and Bill... Bill had apparated direct to the platform.
"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny goodbye.
"Why?" Fred keenly asked. Of course, Harry and Hermione already knew but couldn't and wouldn't say anything.
"You'll see," replied 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 were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.
"Why?" George impatiently asked.
"You're going to have an interesting year," replied Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it."
"A bit of what?" asked a clearly confused Ron.
But, at that moment, the whistle blew; and Mrs Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Missus 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, Missus Weasley," said Harry, though it grated on his nerves to do so.
"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."
Of course, both Harry and Hermione knew what they weren't saying... the Tri-Wizard Tournament and the Yule Ball.
"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?" asked Ron, Fred, and George together.
"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 Missus Weasley, Bill, and Charlie appeared to speed 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, Hermione and Ron 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 on one of the bench seats. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what..."
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