Harry Potter (fan fiction)

CHAPTER 6- The Journey From Platform Nine And Three- Quarters

They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry and Lilian's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for them. Harry and Lilian thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

"Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine – platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

"Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Harry and Lilian turned and saw the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing. Harry and Lilian's mouth went rather dry. What on earth were they going to do? They were starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Hedwig and Celeste. They'd have to ask someone.

Harry stopped a passing guard, but didn't dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when Harry couldn't even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Harry was being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, Lilian asked for the train that left at eleven o' clock, but the guard said there wasn't one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. Harry and Lilian was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, they'd had ten minutes left to get on the train to Hogwarts and they had no idea how to do it; they were stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk they could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a large owl.

Hagrid must have forgotten to tell them something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. He wondered if he should get out his wand and start tapping the ticket inspector's stand between platforms nine and ten.

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 and Lilian swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each one of them was pushing a trunk like Harry and Lilian's in front of him – and they had an owl.

Heart hammering, Harry and Lilian pushed their cart after them. They stopped and so did the siblings, 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 towards platforms nine and ten. Harry and Lilian watched, careful not to blink in case they 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 talking briskly toward the barrier – he was almost there – and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't anywhere.

There was nothing else for it.