Harry Potter and the Third War

Chapter 1: The Recovery

Harry Potter fan-fic, never done it…here goes. Be sure to criticize, there are things to criticize.

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(Harry’s POV)

Chapter 1

The Recovery

Finally, my excellent four-poster bed. As Ron sank into the one beside me, I really started to realize what we had done. Hermonie had come up with us, so I decided to not fall asleep. I was exhausted, but there would be time for sleep…I needed friends too. I suggested calling Kreacher to get some food. Hermonie looked not-so-good about it (she was still into S.P.E.W), but agreed. Ron being the always hungry agreed.

"Rather eventful day it's been hasn't it?" he said. We all laughed.

“I think that, what was it, breaking into Gringotts, destroying a couple of horcruxes, and finishing off Voldemort could be considered an eventful day.” said Hermione, a small smile budding on her lips.

“Bloody Hell, more than I thought…” Ron’s voice faded as memories came:

~*~

At that moment a group of people passed just behind him and he caught a

few words of what they were saying.

"-- packed with Muggles, of course --"

Harry swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four

boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like

Harry's in front of him -- and they had an owl.

Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them. They stopped and so

did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

"Now, what's the platform number?" said the boys' mother.

"Nine and three-quarters!" piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was

holding her hand, "Mom, can't I go... "

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten.

Harry watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it -- but just as

the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large

crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last

backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.

"Fred, you next," the plump woman said.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call

yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went. His twin called

after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later,

he had gone -- but how had he done it?

Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier he was

almost there -- and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.

There was nothing else for it.

"Excuse me," Harry said to the plump woman.

"Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too."