Chapter 92: Everyone On Board (Requesting First Subscription and Monthly Votes)

Fred and George were soon called away by Lee Jordan, who seemed to have gotten hold of something good—his pockets bulged and moved on their own.

Hermione and Ginny did not return to their original carriage; they sat down here, and Hermione was intently listening as Ron described the trouble he’d encountered at the station.

She had arrived earlier and did not know the platform entrance had been sealed, so she listened with wide-eyed astonishment.

She could hardly imagine how terrible it would be to be late on the first day of term.

“But why would the platform be sealed?”

“Good question—that’s exactly what I want to know,” Ron rubbed his forehead; he and Harry had both slammed hard into the partition wall.

If not for the cart blocking him, he might have gotten another scar on his forehead.

“This is the Ministry’s mistake—the school can’t expel you.”

“The school can’t expel us because we made it onto the train.”

“But have you ever thought about what you’d do if you hadn’t made it onto the train?” Hermione suddenly asked.

This question instantly sparked everyone’s interest.

“Go home and come back tomorrow,” Ginny said first, then quickly glanced at Harry.

If everyone went home, would Harry have to return to the Burrow too? she wondered, not daring to look up.

“Have Dad drive us,” Ron continued, his face alight with excitement. “I’ve always wanted to try the car’s flying function.”

Mr. Weasley owned a Ford Anglia and had modified it with special features, like expanding the interior space and adding flight capability.

During the holidays, 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… the Knight Bus?” Harry murmured; he only knew of that one, from what Silven had told him.

“Oh, honestly, I’d rather be late all day than take the Knight Bus to school,” Ron frowned. “Silven, isn’t there another way?”

“There is,” Silven said. “Apply to the Ministry for a Portkey to Hogsmeade, or use the Floo Network directly. Explain the situation—they won’t refuse.”

“That’s good,” Ron smiled.

It was the most reliable option available.

“Wait a minute—hasn’t anyone thought of writing to the professors?” Hermione stared at them in disbelief, then glanced at Hedwig in her cage.

“Harry, you’ve got an owl, don’t you?”

“I—I forgot,” Harry said awkwardly; he simply hadn’t thought to ask the professors for help.

After that, they continued enthusiastically discussing what they’d do if similar situations arose again—these experiences might prove useful someday.

By noon, a plump witch pushed a snack cart past their carriage; Harry quickly bought a large pile of treats—more than last year—filling the table completely.

He loved these snacks, but they weren’t available at school, so he bought extra on the train.

But this wasn’t lunch; Mrs. Weasley had already packed them ham sandwiches, and Silven had been given one too—it was quite tasty.

“You’re lucky today—Mom didn’t make corned beef sandwiches,” Ron said; he clearly disliked corned beef.

Silven also took out the butterbeer he’d bought at the Leaky Cauldron; he’d originally planned to buy lunch, but couldn’t stand the smell of garlic filling the carriage, so he gave up.

Butterbeer was clearly more popular than chilled pumpkin juice; three full bottles were quickly finished by the five of them, paired with ham sandwiches and dessert cauldron cakes, making a decent enough lunch.

After lunch, they played wizard’s chess and Exploding Snap together.

Silven hadn’t been interested at first, but after losing twice in a row to Ron, he gradually got hooked.

Outside, the sky grew darker, and the temperature inside the carriage dropped sharply.

Beyond the windows, the distant horizon’s dark edge now showed the towering spires and towers of Hogwarts Castle.

Yellow lights flickered on inside the dim carriage.

“We’re almost there,” Hermione said; she remembered that last year, the lights came on just before the train arrived.

“The Hogwarts Express will arrive in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train…”

The familiar announcement echoed; Harry and the others quickly cleared the table and hurriedly pulled on their Hogwarts robes.

The train stopped, and they were jostled out with the crowd.

“First-years, first-years this way…”

Harry instinctively moved to follow Ginny toward Hagrid, then met the clear eyes of the first-years and Hagrid’s puzzled gaze.

“Harry, you’re going the wrong way,” Silven grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “You’re in second year—you don’t need to take the boat.”

“Sorry, I forgot,” Harry mumbled, rushing over to Ron. “Why didn’t you remind me?”

“I didn’t expect you to move that fast,” Ron said; Harry had bolted straight for Hagrid the moment they stepped off, and Ron hadn’t reacted in time.

After parting from Ginny, they joined the crowd heading down a rough, muddy path where at least a hundred carriages—or rather, carriage bodies—were parked.

“Looks like we’re taking these to the castle,” Hermione noted, seeing older students boarding the carriages.

Each carriage could hold four people; once they were all seated, it began to lurch forward slowly.

“It’s amazing—it moves by itself,” Harry exclaimed.

“Probably magic,” Hermione said. “Like last year’s boats—we weren’t all able to row, were we?”

Harry nodded, finding that reasonable.

The carriage passed through two grand iron gates, then climbed a long uphill drive, drawing nearer to the castle.

Finally, the carriage stopped. Silven stepped out first and saw the Whomping Willow just ahead.

Under the moonlight, the Whomping Willow remained still, its leaves occasionally twitching as if stretching.

Silven suddenly realized something.

If Harry and Ron hadn’t boarded the train this morning, they’d now be crashing that flying Ford Anglia straight into the Whomping Willow.

How many branches would it snap? Maybe even the trunk? If he’d been standing nearby, he could’ve collected them all…

Oh no—he couldn’t keep thinking like this.

Silven felt his heart ache; he stood frozen, lost in thought, until Professor McGonagall came over to urge them inside, forcing him to walk slowly, glancing back again and again, into the castle.

…

(End of Chapter)