The first of September found Harry and Blaise scrambling for departure. Millie had been packed and ready for the start of term for days. She waited at the base of the stairs, scribbling away in a leather-bound notebook as Harry searched among his clothes for his practice snitch and Blaise called out anxiously for Ouroboros, the name he'd decided to give his snake. Mrs. Zabini waited at the base of the stairs next to Millie, the tapping of her foot the only sign of her mounting impatience. Finally, Harry found his snitch and Blaise had his snake wrapped around his wrist. Soon they were out the door, and Torsh was driving them with all speed toward the the train station.
Once arrived, they disembarked in a hurry. Traffic had been more troublesome than anticipated, and they knew they were cutting it close to the scheduled departure time. The Hogwarts Express was notoriously punctual, and Harry didn't want to miss it. Mrs. Zabini gave quick orders to Torsh to circle the street until she had seen off the children while Blaise and Harry rushed inside to grab trolleys for their luggage.
The three friends raced through the station in spite of Mrs. Zabini's assurances that they still had time to spare, and warnings not to roll over any muggles. They moderated their speed accordingly, but weren't above stepping on the backs of each others shoes, purposely trying to trip one another in a sort of game bent on winning their race through sabotage.
Millie proved to be particularly gifted at this competition, and after successfully pinning down the backs of Blaise and Harry's shoes to the point where they fell off, she reached the solid brick wall between platforms nine and ten first. Pausing only to turn and laugh at the sight of her friends sitting on the platform, pulling their trainers back on and cursing, she quickly dashed straight through the wall, unnoticed by any of the surrounding muggles.
"What are you two doing?" Mrs. Zabini asked, catching them up at her own leisurely pace. "Hurry up and get to the platform! The train won't wait for you."
"Even if you are the famous Harry Potter," Blaise whispered with a wink at his friend.
"Shut up," Harry whispered back, though he couldn't help but smile.
The boys lined up their trolleys side by side, prepared to rush the entrance at the same time. Mrs. Zabini looked on as they proceeded at a run, gathering speed, drawing closer to the brick wall until
CRASH!
They struck the wall at a full sprint, the handlebars of their trolleys cutting into their stomachs before toppling over entirely. Hedwig's cage went rolling away as the owl screeched in terror, drawing whispers and disapproving looks from passerby. Mrs. Zabini ran to fetch the fallen cage and calm poor Hedwig before rushing back to her son, asking with worry if they were both alright.
"Yeah, fine," said Blaise, rubbing his bruised stomach.
Harry stared at the wall between platforms in disbelief. "What happened?"
Mrs. Zabini put her hand against the red brick and gave it a push. Nothing happened. She was as incapable of passing through the wall as Harry or Blaise had been. She uttered a tsk of irritation while Blaise and Harry stared.
"Perhaps they've locked it early?" she wondered aloud.
"But it isn't three yet!" Blaise protested, "And Millie was able to pass through before us with no problem!"
Mrs. Zabini frowned, glanced around at the surrounding muggles, and covertly removed her wand from her long coat to give the wall a few probing taps.
Blaise and Harry picked themselves up off the ground and gathered their things, disgruntled. Blaise nudged Harry in the side and whispered one word. "Dobby."
Harry understood instantly, but he was incredulous at the idea that Malfoy would send his elf to harass him a second time. That is, until he remembered the encounter with Malfoy and his father in Diagon Alley. This stunt could be a petty act of retaliation. And yet it did seem odd that only Harry and Blaise were prevented from going on the platform while Millie passed through just fine. Hadn't she done more to insult the Malfoys than Harry had?
Mrs. Zabini ceased her tapping and stared up at the clock above their heads in frustration. Harry and Blaise looked up as well, their stomachs sinking as they realized the time of departure was already upon them. As the second hand moved its way past the twelve, they knew it was too late.
"That's it," said Harry, feeling his stomach drop, "It's gone."
"Wait, wait. That can't be it," Blaise said, his panic rising, "Students must show up late all the time! There's got to be another way... Maybe we can fly our brooms! We've got them with us. We can just follow the train from the air and send for our luggage later..."
Harry was prepared to agree to this insane scheme, but Mrs. Zabini overheard them and was already shaking her head at Blaise's absurd idea.
"Don't be ridiculous. We'll just send and owl to Dumbledore and send you off to school tomorrow," she said.
The practicality of this plan instantly broke over them, and they felt very silly for having entertained the thought of flying all the way to Hogwarts. Disappointed that they would have to wait another day, but nonetheless grateful that they had Mrs. Zabini's guidance, they walked their trolleys out the front of the station and packed their luggage back into the boot of the car.
Mrs. Zabini wasted no time in sending a letter to the headmaster as soon as they were home. Harry, though despondent, was still impressed by her bold gesture. If she really had sent that howler to Dumbledore earlier in the summer, it was rather presumptuous to be asking his assistance now. For a brief moment, Harry entertained the theory that it was Dumbledore, not Dobby, behind the trick of the brick wall, and that it was Dumbledore's way of expelling Blaise and Harry for Mrs. Zabini's impertinence.
Harry dismissed this idea as soon as it was formed. Dumbledore must get complaints form parents all the time. That was no reason to expel any student. No, it was definitely Dobby's doing that was causing him to miss out on the sorting and start of term feast. Harry was sorry that Blaise was being kept out of the fun on his account. Harry had no doubt that if he'd tried to pass through on his own, he'd be on the train with Millie right now, enjoying iced pumpkin juice and chocolate frogs from the kind witch who pushed the trolley.
In spite of Torsh's efforts to cheer them with a well-prepared meal, Harry and Blaise spent a very dull evening together. They tried to lift their spirits with a game of exploding snap, but even this failed to entertain for long. It was eventually decided that they would go to bed early, their disappointment making them fit for little else.
The following morning brought good news. Dumbledore had sent his response back by Mephistopheles faster than Mrs. Zabini expected, and only slightly slower than the boys had hoped. The letter arrived just as the family was sitting down to a light brunch, the boys having no appetite for more. Mrs. Zabini opened the letter while Blaise and Harry waited anxiously. They were relieved at the smile that spread over her features, and she was evidently pleased announce, "Good news. Dumbledore has approved a temporary passage to Hogwarts via Floo Powder. You'll be at school before the evening meal."
Harry had no idea what Floo Powder was, but he immediately joined Blaise in pressing Mrs. Zabini to let them set off immediately. But Mrs. Zabini insisted that they complete their meal first, and the boys set to work on the food in front of them with gusto, their appetites infinitely improved on the prospect of soon being at school again.
Their plates were barely cleaned before they were begging to go once more. Harry assumed that whatever Floo Powder was, and however it was to be used, it would involve them getting into the car again, and driving to some yet unknown location before setting out, and he wanted to waste no time in getting to Hogwarts.
Blaise was more educated on the use of Floo Powder than Harry, and while he was no less eager to be among his schoolmates, he understood that their was less need for haste. He directed Harry to gather his things together, and suggested that he let Hedwig out of her cage to find her own way to Hogwarts. The flight would be no trouble, he was sure, and he wasn't certain the owl would enjoy travel through the fireplace.
Harry gave an involuntary start, certain he had misheard his friend. Did he say through the fireplace? Harry had visions of Father Christmas, and wondered if wizards had contrived some way of flying up the chimney and launching themselves to their destination, as ridiculous as that idea seemed. He was certain he'd prefer to take his broom.
His alarm mounted as he realized that it was no joke, and Blaise was in actuality leading him to the fireplace. Harry waited with trepidation as Mrs. Zabini lifted a small decorative jar from the mantelpiece and offered its contents to Blaise. Harry soon realized what he took to be merely a decoration was actually a receptacle for a strange glittering powder. Harry was instructed to pay attention, and Blaise, who had apparently traveled in his manner several times before, stepped forward to demonstrate the proper way of traveling by Floo Powder.
First, Mrs. Zabini lit a fire in the grate with a wave of her wand. The fire burned a natural yellow-orange, its heat slightly stifling in the late-summer heat. Blaise appeared not to mind, as he dipped his hand into the jar and pulled out a handful of the sand-like powder. He tossed the powder into the fire, which instantly turned a vibrant green, and its heat seemed somewhat diminished. Blaise stepped into the flames without hesitation. This was not Harry's first encounter with enchanted flames, and he was not surprised to see that Blaise was not instantly consumed by the fire. Blaise turned to face them, offered Harry a smile, shouted "Hogwarts!" and the flames leapt up, covering him completely in a blinding flash.
When the fire had calmed and resumed its natural orange glow, Blaise was nowhere to be seen. Harry looked at Mrs. Zabini expectantly, awaiting the explanation he was sure would come.
"You see, Harry. You have only to toss some of the powder into the flames, step into the fire, and clearly state the destination you want to go. You will come out at the nearest available fireplace to your destination."
Harry took a handful of the soft powder and stared at the fire curiously.
"If it's that easy, why don't all the students travel to Hogwarts this way?" he asked aloud, "I'm sure there are enough fireplaces for everybody. I could come out right in the middle of the Slytherin common room!"
"Oh Harry, Dumbledore has made special arrangements for you. Hogwarts is usually closed off from the Floo Network."
"But why?" Harry persisted, "Why it is cut off?"
"Well, for security reasons, of course. We don't want just anyone coming onto the grounds whenever they please."
Harry was still curious. Why should a school for children require such strict security measures? But then he recalled that Blaise was waiting for him on the other side, and Harry tossed in his own handful of the powder, and stepped into the green flames.
He coughed in the warm, dry air, his throat irritated by the ash stirred up in the grate, but he managed to catch his breath and state clearly, "Hogwarts!" just as he'd seen Blaise do.
The flames climbed high, but Harry felt as if he was sinking down into a raging inferno. It seemed to him that he was rocketing through the center of the earth. Tears streaming from the corners of his eyes with the speed of his travel, he could barely make out the image of other fireplaces, acting as windows to rooms beyond, but it was far too fast for him to make out individual features.
It seemed to him that he was falling a very long time, and he was beginning to wonder if something had gone wrong, when all at once he fell out of the fire and flopped gracelessly onto a cold stone floor.
He had expected to arrive in Dumbledore's office, as it was the headmaster who had made these arrangements especially for them. And so it was with dismay that he lifted his head, and saw that he had landed in Professor Snape's office.
Professor Snape was easily his least favorite teacher. Though the head of Slytherin House, he had never shown Harry the same favor he bestowed on his other students. Harry had long suspected that the Potions Master hated him, and at the end of last year, Professor Snape had admitted as much himself. Still, he had come to Harry's rescue in the forbidden corridor, when Harry made a desperate effort to steal the Philosopher's Stone, only to come face to face (to face) with none other than Lord Voldemort, the dark wizard who had killed Harry's parents eleven years before.
Harry lamented that he should owe anything to Professor Snape, but all the same, he might have died down in that chamber if not for Snape's interference. That thought alone prevented Harry from an outcry of pure horror upon seeing the professor seated behind his desk, glowering at Harry with open dislike.
"Well, well... So Harry Potter has finally decided to grace us with his presence. Was the train too pedestrian for you? Had to make a special entrance, no matter who it my be inconveniencing?"
Harry knew better than to engage him in this discourse. Instead, he looked about the room, expecting to see Blaise loitering around for Harry's arrival. But Blaise was no where to be found. Harry was only met with the sight of shelves filled with various dusty potion bottles and glass jars filled with all sorts of disgusting pickled potion ingredients.
"Where is Blaise?" Harry asked.
"I sent Mr. Zabini to the common room. Did you think he should wait for you?"
"We left together," Harry said, unable to hide his irritation, "I see no reason why we shouldn't return together."
Snape's wicked smile told Harry he'd given him exactly the opening he'd hoped for. Harry was forced to submit to more of his verbal assault.
"Do you always expect people to wait on you hand and foot? I see your fame has gone to your head. I should have expected as much. Not content with defeating the darkest wizard of our age, you have required new stunts to spread your fame."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Snape was clearly waiting for this opportunity. With a look of spiteful enjoyment, he slid a copy of the Daily Prophet in Harry's direction. Harry was not surprised to see his own face staring at him from the front page. He should have known Lockhart's prediction would come true. Harry was only grateful to realize that Mrs. Zabini, who was a regular Daily Prophet subscriber, had shielded this report from him and Blaise, no doubt sparing Harry the embarrassment.
After a moment's reflection, Harry stepped forward, plucked the quill from the ink well sitting atop Snape's desk, and signed his name next to his picture.
"If you wanted an autograph, you could have just said so," Harry said brightly.
He took advantage of Snape's moment of silent outrage to beat a hasty retreat, and he was sprinting down the hall toward the Slytherin common room before Snape could call him back and take away house points for his cheek.
It wasn't until he reached the common room entrance that he realized he had no idea what the new password was. He stood outside the entrance appalled at his lack of foresight. He would rather spend the night in the hall than go back to Snape and ask for the password.
At that moment, the secret entrance swung open, revealing Blaise on the point of stepping out.
"Harry! Finally," he said, pulling Harry through the entrance and into the common room, "How was Snape? I wanted to wait, but he told me I could go in a way that could not be refused."
"I know," said Harry with a sigh. "And I'm probably going to regret seeing him tomorrow."
"Harry! Blaise! Where have you been?"
They turned toward the new voice, and saw Millie angrily stomping down the stairs from the girl's dormitories. She punched them both on the arm, causing them to stagger, and glared at them.
"You've been having adventures without me!" she accused.
"What? That's ridiculous!" Blaise protested.
Harry nodded his head in agreement, "We weren't on an adventure! We weren't even enjoying ourselves! We got stuck in the train station and had to wait a whole day before Dumbledore let us come to school!"
Millie didn't look entirely convinced. She crossed her arms and continued to scowl. "What are you talking about?"
"It's like Harry said. When we tried to pass through the wall to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, we couldn't get through. My mum tried it too, but it was locked or something. We missed the train and had to come by Floo Powder."
"But why did the platform lock on you?"
"We have a theory, but it can wait. Have you got the new class schedules?"
Millie handed them each a folded piece of parchment from one of her cloak pockets.
"You'll be pleased," she said, "We've got Lockhart first thing tomorrow, Harry."
Harry groaned and examined the rest of their weekly schedule for the term. It looked like the second year Slytherin students would have double Herbology with Ravenclaw as well.
"Have our things arrived?" Harry asked, realizing for the first time that he wasn't sure what arrangements had been made for transporting their clothes and supplies to school.
"I haven't been up yet," said Blaise, "We should check."
Millie insisted that she go with them to discuss what she'd missed. Harry and Blaise, accustomed to sharing a room with her during their nightly sleepovers, saw no reason why she shouldn't come along, and they trooped up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. Millie wanted to talk about what they suspected regarding the blocked station entrance, but Blaise and Harry insisted she fill them in on the sorting and start of term banquet. Harry regretted that he didn't get to witness the sorting ceremony this year. He was curious to see who the new first years would be, and if any of them experienced the same unfair sorting he had...
Millie's explanations were cut short as they opened the door to their dormitory, now with a shining plaque reading "Second Years." Malfoy was seated cross-legged on his bed, holding court with his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, who jumped up and towered over the blond boy protectively at the sudden intrusion.
"Harry!" Malfoy said, his surprise evident.
"Surprised to see me, Draco?" Harry asked with scorn, "I suppose you thought with me out of the way, you'd have a better chance of getting on the Slytherin team?"
Draco shot a glance to Crabbe on his left, then to Goyle on his right. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said shiftily, unable to meet Harry's eye.
"Don't pretend like you don't know," said Blaise, "That was a pretty slimy trick you pulled."
"It's not a trick," Malfoy said with his nose in the air, "My father..."
"You expect me to believe your father sent a house elf to steal my letters and block the platform entrance?" Harry retorted. "Don't make me laugh."
Now Draco looked thoroughly confused.
"Elf?" he repeated, "Do you mean Dobby?"
Harry had to hand it to him, he was a good actor. Harry almost believed he didn't know what they were talking about.
"Whatever, Malfoy," said Harry, "Play dumb all you want, but cut it out with the lame pranks. In fact, just say away from me."
"We're in the same dorm. What do you expect me to do? Sleep in the common room?"
Harry didn't respond. He simply walked to his own four-poster bed, beckoned Blaise and Millie to join him, and closed the curtains to shield them from view.
"Oh sure, real mature, Potter." Malfoy called from the other side. He was acknowledged by a fit of whispering about what a stupid git he was.
"Girls aren't supposed to be in our dorms!" He whined when it was evident they planned to ignore him.
Millie poked her hand between the gap in the curtains and made a rude gesture at him. And that was the end of that.