Chapter Six- Fan-fricking-tastic!
The end of the summer holidays comes too quickly for my liking.
Ew, school.....
On our last evening, Mrs Weasley conjures up an amazing dinner. Fred and George round off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they fill the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounce from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour.
It takes a long time to get started this morning. We're up at cock-crow, but somehow we still seem to have a lot to do.
Mrs Weasley dashes about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills, I keep colliding with people (whoops!), and Mr Weasley nearly brakes his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying my trunk to the car.
I really don't see how eight people, six large trunks, three owls/phoenix, one dog, one cat and a rat are going to fit into one small Ford Anglia.
But I forgot that well, magic!
"Not a word to Molly," Mr Weasley whispers to Harry and I as he opens the boot and shows us how it's been magically expanded.
When at last we are all in the car, Mrs Weasley glances into the back seat, where Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Percy and I are all sitting for comfortably side by side, and says, "Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" She and Ginny get into the front seat, which has been stretched so that it resembles a park bench. "I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?"
Mr Weasley starts up the engine and we trundle out of the yard. A minute later, we are back at the Burrow; George forgot his fireworks. Five minutes after that, we skid to a halt in the yard so that Fred can run in for his broomstick. We've almost reached the motorway when Ginny shrieks that she's forgotten her diary. By the time she's clambered back into the car, we are running very late.
Uh, it gives me anxiety. I don't like being late for things. Blah!
Mr Weasley glances at his watch and then at his wife. "Molly, dear -"
"No, Arthur."
"No one would see. This little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed - that'd get us up in the air - then we fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser ..."
"I said no, Arthur, not in broad daylight."
They bicker like an old married couple!
That's because they are, duh!
Well not old, but they are the rest of it.
We reach King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr Weasley dashes across the road to get trolleys for our trunks and we all hurry into the station, towards the barrier between platform nine and ten.
"Percy first," says Mrs Weasley, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which shows that we have only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier.
Percy strides briskly forward and vanishes. Mr Weasley goes next, Fred and George follow.
"I'll take Ginny and you three come right after us," Mrs Weasley tells Harry, Ron and I, grabbing Ginny's hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye they're gone.
"You two first," I tell them.
I'm glad that my pets are with Ginny right now, just in case.
I make sure that Hedwig's cage is secure and then Harry wheels around to face the barrier. Both Harry and Ron bend low over the handles of their trolleys and walk purposefully towards the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they break into a run and -
CRASH.
I burst into a fit of laughter, clutching my side.
Both trolleys had hit the barrier and bounced backwards. Ron's trunk falls off with a loud thump, Harry is knocked off his feet, and Hedwig's cage bounces onto the shiny floor and she rolls away, shrieking indignantly. Immediately, I grab the cage, and try to calm her down.
People all around us stare and a guard nearby yells, "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?"
"Lost control of the trolley," Harry gasps, clutching his ribs as he gets up. I stop laughing, and glance up at the barrier.
"Why can't we get through?" Harry hisses to Ron and I.
"I dunno -"
Ron looks wildly around. A dozen curious people are still watching us.
"We're going to miss the train," Harry whispers. "I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself ..."
I look up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ten seconds ... nine seconds ...
I wheel my trolley forward cautiously until it's right against the barrier, and push with all my might. The metal remains solid. Three seconds ... two seconds ... one second ...
"It's gone," says Ron, sounding stunned. "The train's left. What if Mum and Dad can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?"
Harry gives a hollow laugh. "The Dursleys haven't given me pocket money for about six years."
"My money's in my bag," I turn to my trolley, then groan. "which is with Mrs Weasley. Great."
At least I have my phone though!
Ron presses his ear to the cold barrier. "Can't hear a thing," he says tensely. "What're we going to do? I don't know how long it'll take Mum and Dad to get back to us."
I look around. People are still watching us, mainly because of Hedwig's (though they are getting quieter) continuing screeches.
"I think we'd better go and wait by the car," I say, puzzled. "We're attracting to much atten-"
"Emily!" says Ron, his eyes gleaming. "The car!"
"What about it?"
"We can fly the car to Hogwarts!"
"But I thought -" Harry says.
"We're stuck, right? And we've got to get to school, haven't we? And even underage wizards are allowed to use magic if it's a real emergency, section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Thingy ..."
Harry grins suddenly. "Can you fly it?"
"No problem," says Ron, wheeling his trolley around to face the exit. "C'mon, let's go, if we hurry we'll be able to follow the Hogwarts Express."
And we march off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station and back into the side road where the old Ford Anglia is parked.
Ron unlocks the boot with a series of taps from his wand. We heave our trunks back in (well, they do, I'm a weakling), put Hedwig on the back seat and I climb in next to her, while the boys get into the front.
"Check no one's watching," says Ron, starting the ignition with another tap of his wand. I stick my head out of the window: traffic is rumbling along the main road ahead, but our street is empty.
"Okay," I say, leaning back in my seat.
Ron pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard. The car around us vanishes - and so do we.
Wow this is weird! I can feel my seat vibrating, hear the engine but I can't see it.
"Let's go," says Ron's voice.
The ground and the dirty buildings on either side fall away, dropping out of sight as the car rises; in seconds, the whole of London lies, smoky and glittery, below us.
There's a sudden popping noise and the car, Harry, Ron and I reappear.
"Uh oh," says Ron, jabbing at the Invisibility Booster. "It's faulty -"
Harry joins in pushing the button. The car vanishes. Then it flickers back again.
"Hold on!" Ron yells, and he slams his foot on the accelerator; we shoot straight into the woolly clouds and everything turns dull and foggy.
"Now what?" Harry asks.
"We need to see the train to know what direction to go in," I answer. "Dip back down again - quickly -"
We drop back beneath the clouds and twist around in our seats, squinting at the ground.
I can't see it. I have bad vision.
That would be a good band name.
Very..... rock!
"I can see it!" Harry yells and I jump. "Right ahead - there!"
The Hogwarts Express is streaking along below us like a scarlet snake.
That reminds me, I want a pet snake.
A venomous one!
Or is that considered 'dangerous'?
"Due north," says Ron, checking the compass on the dashboard. "Okay, we'll just have to check on it every half an hour or so. Hold on ..." And we shoot up through the clouds. A minute later, we burst out into a blaze of sunset.
Like the ending of a love story....
It's different up here. The wheels of the car skim the sea of fluffy cloud, the a sky a bright, endless blue under the blinding white sun.
"All we've got to worry about now are aeroplanes," says Ron. We look at each other and start to laugh; for a long time, we can't stop.
It's quite fun actually. At least it's warm. We talk for a while and eat a whole pack of toffees.
I only had three! Or five.....
Maybe eleven....
Don't judge me!
We make regular checks on the train as we fly further and further north, each dip beneath the clouds showing us a different view. London is soon far behind us, replaced by neat green fields which give way in turn to wide, purplish moors, villages with tiny toy churches and a great city alive with cars like multi-coloured ants.
Several uneventful hours later, however, I have to admit that some of the fun is wearing off. The toffees have made us extremely thirsty and we have nothing to drink.
We've all taking off our jumpers. I'm basically melting. I still don't get why we couldn't get through the barrier. Maybe we're to fabulous!
"Can't be much further, can it?" croaks Ron, hours later still, as the sun starts to sink into our floor of cloud, staining it a deep pink. "Ready for another check on the train?"
It's still right below us, winding its way past a snowcapped mountain. It's much darker beneath the canopy of clouds.
Ron puts his foot on the accelerator and drives us upwards again, but as he does, the engine begins to whine.
Ummmm.... I look up from my phone nervously.
"It's probably just tired," says Ron. "It's never been this far before ..."
So the car is like alive???
We pretend not to notice the whining growing louder and louder as the sky becomes steadily darker. Stars are blossoming in the blackness. I pull my jumper back on, trying to ignore the way the windscreen wipers are now waving feebly, as though in protest.
"Not far," says Ron, more to the car than to Harry or I, "not far now," and he pats the dashboard nervously.
When we fly back beneath the clouds a little while later, we have to squint through the darkness for a landmark we know.
"There!" I shout, making Harry and Ron jump. "Straight ahead!"
Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on the cliff over the lake, stand the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts castle.
But the car begins to shudder and is losing speed.
"Come on," Ron says cajolingly, giving the steering wheel a little shake, "nearly there, come on -"
The engine groans. Narrow jets of steam are issuing from under the bonnet. I find myself gripping the edges of my seat very hard as I fly towards the lake.
The car gives a nasty wobble. Glancing out of my window, I see the smooth, black, glassy surface of the water, a mile below, Ron's knuckles are white on the steering wheel. The car wobbles again.
"Come on," Ron mutters.
We are over the lake ... the castle is right ahead ... Ron puts his foot down.
There's a loud clunk, a splutter, and the engine dies completely.
"Uh oh," says Ron, into the silence.
Shit.....
The nose of the car drops. We're falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the solid castle wall.
"Noooooo!" Ron yells, swinging the steering wheel around; we miss the dark stone wall by inches as the car turns in a great arc, soaring over the dark greenhouses, then the vegetable patch and then out over the black lawns, losing height all the time.
Ron lets go of the steering wheel completely and pulls his wand out his back pocket.
"STOP! STOP!" he yells, whacking the dashboard and the windscreen, but we're still plummeting, the ground flying up towards us ...
"DO SOMETHING!" I screech, punching Ron on the arm.
Don't know how it helps, but it makes me feel better!
"MIND THAT TREE!" Harry bellows, lunging for the steering wheel, but too late -
CRUNCH.
With an ear-splitting bang of metal on wood, we hit the thick tree trunk and drops to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam is billowing from under the crumpled bonnet; Hedwig is shrieking in terror, a gold-ball size lump has appeared on Harry's head, and next to him, Ron lets put a low, despairing groan.
Well, at least I'm fine!
"Are you okay?" I ask.
"Yeah," Harry mutters.
"My wand," says Ron, in a shaky voice. "Look at my wand."
It has snapped, almost in two; the tip is dangling limply, held on by a few splinters.
"Be thankful it wasn't your neck," I mutter, glaring out the window. "Stupid car!"
Suddenly, something hits my side of the car with the force of a charging bull, sending me lurching sideways, just as an equally heavy blow hits the roof.
"What's happen-?"
Ron gasps, staring through the windscreen, and I look around just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree we've hit is attacking us.
Fan-fricking-tastic!
Its trunk is bent almost double, and its gnarled boughs are pummelling every inch of the car it can reach.
"Aaargh!" says Ron, as another twisted limb punches a large dent into his doo; the windscreen is now trembling under a hail of blows from knuckle-like twigs and a branch as thick as a battering ram is pounding furiously on the roof, which seem to be caving in -
We're going to die, aren't we?
"Run for it!" Ron shouts, throwing his full weight against his door, but next second he has been knocked backwards into Harry's lap by a vicious upper cut from another branch.
Wayyyyyyyyyyy! Didn't know Ron swung that way!
"We're done for!" Ron moans, as the ceiling sags, but suddenly the floor of the car is vibrating - the engine has re-started.
Neither of the boys react. Oh for fucks sake.
"Reverse!" I yell and the car shoots backwards. The tree is still trying to hit us; I can hear its roots creaking as it almost rips itself up, lashing out at us as we speed out of reach.
"That," I pant, "was close. Well done, car."
The car, however, has reached the end of its tether. With two smart clunks, the doors fly open and I feel my seat tip sideways: next thing I know I'm sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thumps tell me that the car is ejecting our luggage from the boot. Hedwig's cage flies through the air and bursts open; she rises out of it with a loud, angry screech and speeds off towards the castle without a backwards look. Then, dented, scratched and steaming, the car rumbles off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.
"Come back!" Ron yells after it, brandishing his broken wand. "Dad'll kill me!"
But the car disappears from view with one last snort from its exhaust.
"Can you believe our luck?" says Ron miserably, bending down to pick up Scabbers. "Of all the trees we could've hit, we had to get one that hits back."
I glance over my shoulder at the ancient tree, which is still flailing its branches threateningly.
"Come on," says Harry wearily, "we'd better get up to the school ..."
This is a great start to the school year, bruised and battered.