There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when Harry awoke next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the window as he got dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt; they would change into their school robes on the Hogwarts Express.
He, Ron, Fred, and George had just reached the first-floor landing on their way down to breakfast, when Mrs. Weasley appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.
“Arthur!” she called up the staircase. “Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!”
Harry flattened himself against the wall as Mr. Weasley came clattering past with his robes on back-to-front and hurtled out of sight. When Harry and the others entered the kitchen, they saw Mrs. Weasley rummaging anxiously in the drawers - “I've got a quill here somewhere!” - and Mr. Weasley bending over the fire, talking to -
Harry shut his eyes hard and opened them again to make sure that they were working properly.
Amos Diggory's head was sitting in the middle of the flames like a large, bearded egg. It was talking very fast, completely unperturbed by the sparks flying around it and the flames licking its ears.
“…Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-‘ems - please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there -”
“Here!” said Mrs. Weasley breathlessly, pushing a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a crumpled quill into Mr. Weasley's hands.
“- it's a real stroke of luck I heard about it,” said Mr. Diggory's head. “I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and I found the Improper Use of Magic lot all setting off - if Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur -”
“What does Mad-Eye say happened?” asked Mr. Weasley, unscrewing the ink bottle, loading up his quill, and preparing to take notes.
Mr. Diggory's head rolled its eyes. “Says he heard an intruder in his yard. Says he was creeping toward the house, but was ambushed by his dustbins.”
“What did the dustbins do?” asked Mr. Weasley, scribbling frantically.
“Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as I can tell,” said Mr. Diggory. “Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up -”
Mr. Weasley groaned.
“And what about the intruder?”
“Arthur, you know Mad-Eye,” said Mr. Diggory's head, rolling its eyes again. “Someone creeping into his yard in the dead of night? More likely there's a very shell-shocked cat wandering around somewhere, covered in potato peelings. But if the Improper Use of Magic lot get their hands on Mad-Eye, he's had it - think of his record - we've got to get him off on a minor charge, something in your department - what are exploding dustbins worth?”
“Might be a caution,” said Mr. Weasley, still writing very fast, his brow furrowed. “Mad-Eye didn't use his wand? He didn't actually attack anyone?”
“I'll bet he leapt out of bed and started jinxing everything he could reach through the window,” said Mr. Diggory, “but they'll have a job proving it, there aren't any casualties.”
“All right, I'm off,” Mr. Weasley said, and he stuffed the parchment with his notes on it into his pocket and dashed out of the kitchen again.
Mr. Diggory's head looked around at Mrs. Weasley.
“Sorry about this, Molly,” it said, more calmly, “bothering you so early and everything…but Arthur's the only one who can get Mad-Eye off, and Mad-Eye's supposed to be starting his new job today. Why he had to choose last night…”
“Never mind, Amos,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?”
“Oh go on, then,” said Mr. Diggory.
Mrs. Weasley took a piece of buttered toast from a stack on the kitchen table, put it into the fire tongs, and transferred it into Mr. Diggory's mouth.
“Fanks,” he said in a muffled voice, and then, with a small pop, vanished.
Harry could hear Mr. Weasley calling hurried good-byes to Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the girls. Within five minutes, he was back in the kitchen, his robes on the right way now, dragging a comb through his hair.
“I'd better hurry - you have a good term, boys, said Mr. Weasley to Harry, Ron, and the twins, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. “Molly, are you going to be all right taking the kids to King's Cross?”
“Of course I will,” she said. “You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine.”
As Mr. Weasley vanished, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen.
“Did someone say Mad-Eye?” Bill asked. “What's he been up to now.”
“He says someone tried to break into his house last night,” said Mrs. Weasley.
“Mad-Eye Moody?” said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. “Isn't he that nutter -”
“Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody,” said Mrs. Weasley sternly.
“Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?” said Fred quietly as Mrs. Weasley left the room. “Birds of a feather.…”
“Moody was a great wizard in his time,” said Bill.
“He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?” said Charlie.
“Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?” said Fred. “I mean, I know he's a genius and everything.…”
“Who is Mad-Eye?” asked Harry.
“He's retired, used to work at the Ministry,” said Charlie. “I met him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror - one of the best…a Dark wizard catcher,” he added, seeing Harry's blank look. “Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though…the families of people he caught, mainly…and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere.”
Bill and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.
“I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment,” he told them. “Mr. Crouch is really starting to rely on me.”
“Yeah, you know what, Percy?” said George seriously. “I reckon he'll know your name soon.”
Mrs. Weasley had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary Muggle taxis to take them into London.
“Arthur tried to borrow Ministry cars for us,” Mrs. Weasley whispered to Harry as they stood in the rain-washed yard, watching the taxi drivers heaving six heavy Hogwarts trunks into their cars. “But there weren't any to spare.…Oh dear, they don't look happy, do they?”
Harry didn't like to tell Mrs. Weasley that Muggle taxi drivers rarely transported overexcited owls, and Pigwidgeon was making an earsplitting racket. Nor did it help that a number of Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks went off unexpectedly when Fred's trunk sprang open, causing the driver carrying it to yell with fright and pain as Crookshanks clawed his way up the man's leg.
The journey was uncomfortable, owing to the fact that they were jammed in the back of the taxis with their trunks. Crookshanks took quite a while to recover from the fireworks, and by the time they entered London, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all severely scratched. They were very relieved to get out at King's Cross, even though the rain was coming down harder than ever, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the busy road and into the station.
Harry was used to getting onto platform nine and three-quarters by now. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention. They did it in groups today; Harry, Ron, and Hermione (the most conspicuous, since they were accompanied by Pigwidgeon and Crookshanks) went first; they leaned casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and slid sideways through it…and as they did so, platform nine and three-quarters materialized in front of them.
The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts. Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off to find seats, and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. They then hopped back down onto the platform to say good-bye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.
“I might be seeing you all sooner than you think,” said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.
“Why?” said Fred keenly.
“You'll see,” said Charlie. “Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it…it's ‘classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,’ after all.”
“Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year,” said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.
“Why?” said George impatiently.
“You're going to have an interesting year,” said Bill, his eyes twinkling. “I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it.”
“A bit of what?” said Ron.
But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.
“Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley,” said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.
“Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry.
“Oh it was my pleasure, dears,” said Mrs. Weasley. “I'd invite you for Christmas, but…well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with…one thing and another.”
“Mum!” said Ron irritably. “What d'you three know that we don't?”
“You'll find out this evening, I expect,” said Mrs. Weasley, smiling. “It's going to be very exciting - mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules -”
“What rules?” said Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.
“I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you.…Now, behave, won't you? Won't you, Fred? And you, George?”
The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.
“Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!” Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. “What rules are they changing?”
But Mrs. Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.
“Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts,” he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. “At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what -”
“Shh!” Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Harry and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.
“…Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore - the man's such a Mudblood-lover - and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do.…”
Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.
“So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?” she said angrily. “I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him.”
“Durmstrang's another wizarding school?” said Harry.
“Yes,” said Hermione sniffily, “and it's got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts.”
“I think I've heard of it,” said Ron vaguely. “Where is it? What country?”
“Well, nobody knows, do they?” said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.
“Er - why not?” said Harry.
“There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets,” said Hermione matter-of-factly.
“Come off it,” said Ron, starting to laugh. “Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts - how are you going to hide a great big castle?”
“But Hogwarts is hidden,” said Hermione, in surprise. “Everyone knows that…well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway.”
“Just you, then,” said Ron. “So go on - how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?”
“It's bewitched,” said Hermione. “If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE.”
“So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?”
“Maybe,” said Hermione, shrugging, “or it might have Muggle-repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable -”
“Come again?”
“Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?”
“Er…if you say so,” said Harry.
“But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north,” said Hermione thoughtfully. “Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms.”
“Ah, think of the possibilities,” said Ron dreamily. “It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident.…Shame his mother likes him.…”
The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share.
Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, extremely forgetful boy who had been brought up by his formidable witch of a grandmother. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of its magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking “Troy - Mullet - Moran!” but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way. After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm.
Neville listened jealously to the others’ conversation as they relived the Cup match.
“Gran didn't want to go,” he said miserably. “Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though.”
“It was,” said Ron. “Look at this, Neville…”
He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum.
“Oh wow,” said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.
“We saw him right up close, as well,” said Ron. “We were in the Top Box -”
“For the first and last time in your life, Weasley.”
Draco Malfoy had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.
“Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy,” said Harry coolly.
“Weasley…what is that?” said Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious.
Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.
“Look at this!” said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, “Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety…”
“Eat dung, Malfoy!” said Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.
“So…going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know…you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won.…”
“What are you talking about?” snapped Ron.
“Are you going to enter?” Malfoy repeated. “I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?”
“Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy,” said Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.
A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face
“Don't tell me you don't know?” he said delightedly. “You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago…heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry.…Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley…yes…they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him.…”
Laughing once more, Malfoy beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared.
Ron got to his feet and slammed the sliding compartment door so hard behind them that the glass shattered.
“Ron!” said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered “Reparo!” and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.
“Well…making it look like he knows everything and we don't.…” Ron snarled. “'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry'…Dad could've got a promotion any time…he just likes it where he is.…”
“Of course he does,” said Hermione quietly. “Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron -”
“Him! Get to me!? As if!” said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.
Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. He didn't talk much as they changed into their school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.
As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.
“Hi, Hagrid!” Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.
“All righ', Harry?” Hagrid bellowed back, waving. “See yeh at the feast if we don’ drown!”
First years traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.
“Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather,” said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle.
哈利在第二天清晨醒来时，明显感觉到空气中充满假期结束了的忧郁气像，大雨依旧拍打着窗户，噼啪作响，哈利穿上了牛仔裤，套上了运动衫。他准备到了霍格瓦彻再将校服换上。
罗恩、弗来德、乔治和哈利下楼吃早餐，他们一下到一楼就看见威斯里太太站在楼梯口，一副忧心忡忡的样子。
“亚瑟！”她朝着楼梯口叫，“亚瑟！部长传来紧急消息了！”
哈利紧贴着墙站着，看着穿反了衣服的威斯里急急忙忙地走过来，然后很快消失在视线中。哈利和其他人走进厨房时，见到威斯里太太在焦急地翻寻着橱柜，威斯里先生弯腰对着火炉，口中喃喃着，“我记得这儿有一支羽毛笔的呀！”
哈利使劲地闭了下眼睛，然后又睁开，确定他的眼睛运作正常。
阿姆斯。迪格端的头正在火焰中间，看上去像一个有胡子的大鸡蛋，它飞快地说着，丝毫未受到周围飞溅的火星和舔着它耳朵的火焰的影响。
马格邻居听见了砰砰的响声和尖叫声，于是他们去叫来了那些他们所谓的警察。
“亚瑟，你快点去那儿——”
“给你。”威斯里太太气喘吁吁地说着，一边将一张牛皮纸，一瓶墨水和一支弯曲的羽毛笔塞到了威斯里先生手中。
“听说这件事，确实很幸运。”迪格瑞先生的头说道，“早些时候我去办公堂送两只猫头鹰，我发现不正确的魔法都被启动了——如果理特。史姬特控制了这个，亚瑟——”
“魔眼，怎么说。”威斯里问道，拧开墨水瓶，吸了水，准备记录。
威斯里先生眼睛溜溜的转，说道：“他说他听到一个入侵者进入他的后院，他们正爬向他的房子。但他已经用垃圾桶设了埋伏。”
“垃圾桶能有什么用？”威斯里先生边记一边问道。
“用它们来制造恐怖的噪声，点燃各处的垃圾，我所知道的就这些。”迪格瑞先生说道，很显然，他们中有一个在警察出现时正发动进攻！
威斯里先生皱了皱眉，“那些人侵者呢？”
“亚瑟，你都知道魔眼的啦！”迪格瑞先生说道，又眼睛溜溜的转，“有人在深夜爬进他的后院，更像是一只金甲壳虫用土豆皮掩护自己在哪里荡悠。如果不正确的魔法控制了魔眼，他已有前科了——想想他的记录——我们得以一个较小的罪名来让他得以从轻发落，用你屋里的某样东西——会爆炸的垃圾桶有什么用？”
“不过还是小心起见，”威斯里先生说，依然飞速地写着，眉头紧锁。“魔眼没用他的魔杖？他真的没袭击任何人？”
“我敢打赌，他肯定从床上跳了起来，然后把他抓到的东西都排到窗外，想把晦气扔走……”迪格瑞先生说，“但他们得费番工夫去证明，还没听说有什么伤亡损失呢。”
“得了，我要走了。”威斯里先生说，他把记着笔记的羊皮纸塞进口袋，又冲出了厨房。
迪格瑞先生转过头来看着威斯里太太。
“很抱歉，摩莉，”他说，稍平静一些，又说，“这么早就打扰了你，并且每一件事……但亚瑟是唯一的可以让魔眼得以从轻发落的人，而且魔眼正打算从今天开始他的新职业，他为什么偏要选在昨晚……”“
“没关系，阿姆斯，”威斯里太太说，“我想你在离开之前会要点面包或别的什么吧。”
“噢，那么请给我来点吧。”迪格瑞先生说。
威斯里太太从厨房饭桌上的袋子里拿出一片徐了黄油的面包片，用火钳夹着，把它塞进迪格瑞先生的嘴里。
“谢了！”他鼓着嘴含糊地说，随即，一声轻微的“啪”，不见了。
哈利能听到威斯里先生向比尔、查理、伯希和那些女孩们匆匆地道别，五分钟后，他回到了厨房，这回他的袍子穿正了，头发上插着梳子，垂了下来。
“我得快点——你们不用急，孩子们。”威斯里先生向哈利、罗恩和双胞兄弟说道，他拖过斗篷技在肩上，准备隐身，“摩莉，你带孩子们到凯罗斯王街去，没问题吧？”
“我会的，”她说，“你照看魔眼就行了，我们没事的。”
威斯里先生刚消失，比尔和查理走进了厨房。
“有谁说到魔眼了吗？”比尔问道，“他现在怎么样了？”
“听说，昨晚有人想闯进他的屋子。”威斯里太太说。
“魔眼莫迪？”乔治若有所思地说，一边往他的面包片上涂桔子酱，“他不就是那个怪人——”
“你爸爸对魔眼莫迪评价不菲！”威斯里太太正色地说。
“呀，爸爸老是说好话，对吧？”弗来德在威斯里太太离开房间时悄悄地说，“物以类聚……”
“莫迪是他那时的大魔法家。”比尔说。
“他是丹伯多的一个老朋友，对吗？”查理说。
“但丹伯多可不是你说的‘常人’，是不是？”弗来德说，“我的意思是，我知道他是个天才，无所不能……”
“谁是魔眼？”哈利问道。
“他以前在部里干过，现在退休了。”查理说，“当爸爸带我去上班时，我遇见过他一次，他是个——一位最好的……恶巫克星。”
他补充道。看着哈利一副茫然的神情，“他使阿兹克班一半的监房住满了，然而，他给自己树立了无数的仇敌，……主要是他抓获的那些人的家人……我还听说他在老年真的得了幻觉症，再也不相信任何人，到处都看到恶巫。”
比尔和查理决定去凯罗斯王街车站，为大家送行，但伯希极力道歉，说他实在离不开工作。
“我就是没理由在那时走开，”他告诉他们，“克劳斯先生真的是开始依靠我了。”
“哎，你知道什么，伯希？”乔治严肃地说，“我想他很快就会知道你的名字的。”
威斯里太太在村邮局里打了电话，订了三部普通的马格的士载他们去伦敦。
“亚瑟试着为我们借部里的车，”威斯里太太悄声对哈利说。他们站在让雨冲刷过的院子里，看的士司机把六个笨重的霍格瓦彻行李箱堆到车里，“但没有一部空着的车……噢，天啊，他们看上去并不高兴，对吧？”
哈利不想告诉威斯里太太关于马格的土司机极少动载太兴奋的猫头鹰，因为皮威军制造出震耳欲聋的声音。也不想告诉威斯里太太当弗来德的行李箱弹开时，菲利巴特医生的无热湿动火药突然爆炸了，这些使得司机在忍受克路殊克爬上他的腿的同时，不得不又怕又痛地大叫着。
由于他们和行李箱一起被塞在的士的后部，旅行很不舒服，克路殊克花了好长时间才从火药中苏醒过来，当他们抵达伦敦时，哈利、罗恩和荷米恩全都被重重地抓伤了，在凯罗斯王街，雨下得比先前更大了，但他们从车里出来的都大大舒了一口气，抬着箱子穿过繁忙的马路，进入车站，他们全都湿透了。
哈利现在习惯在九又四分之三站台上车，只要穿过显目的九号与十号站台间的栏障，直走下去就行了。不起眼地走着，以免招惹马格的注意是唯一的难处。今天他们分组走，哈利、罗恩和荷米恩（最显眼的，他们由皮威军和克路殊克陪同）先走，他们悠闲地靠着障栏，随意地聊天，从小路溜过，他们就这么做。九又四分之三站台出现在面前了。
霍格瓦彻快车，闪亮的红色蒸汽车，早已停在那儿了，蒸汽一团团地从中升起，透过蒸汽，许多霍格瓦彻学生和家长像灰暗的鬼魅般出现在站台上，皮威军比以前更吵闹了，和从迷雾中传来的许多猫头鹰的叫声相和着。哈利，罗恩和荷米思去找座位，很快就把行李装进火车中部的一个车厢里，然后，他们跑回站台，向威斯里太太、比尔和查理道别。
“我可能会比你们所想的更早些见到你们。”查理笑着说，他拥抱了金妮作告别。
“为什么呢？”弗来德急切地问。
“你等着看吧。”查理说，“别告诉伯希我提到的事……那是机秘消息，等时机成熟时，部长自会公开。”
“哎，我想今年回霍格瓦彻去就好了。”比尔说，他的手插在衣袋里，几乎是若有所思地望着火车。
“为什么？”乔治不耐烦地问。
“你今年将会觉的很有趣的。”比尔眨着眼睛说，“我甚至可能会抽空来看它一下……”
“看一下什么？”罗恩说。
但在那时，哨声响了，威斯里太太把他们推向火车门。
“多谢你的款待，威斯里太太。”荷米恩他们爬进车厢，关上门，又探出头来和她说话。
“哎，是啊，谢谢你为我们做的每一件事，威斯里太太。”哈利说。
“噢，亲爱的，我很乐意那样的。”威斯里太太说，“我想请你们来过圣诞节，但……好了，我想你们全都希望待在霍格瓦彻做点什么……”
“妈！”罗恩恼怒地说，“你们三个知道什么我们不知道的？”
“我想今晚你就可以知道了，”威斯里太太微笑着说。“那将很让人兴奋——提醒你一声，我很高兴他们已经改变了规则。”
“什么规则？”哈利，罗恩，弗来德和乔治异口同声地问。
“我肯定丹伯多教授会告诉你们的……现在，规矩点，知道吗？
弗来德，明白了吗？还有你，乔治？“
汽塞咝咝作响，火车开始移动了。
“告诉我们在霍格瓦彻要发生什么！”弗来德的叫声从窗户中传出来，威斯里太太，比尔和查理正迅速地远离他们，“他们改变了什么规则？”
但威斯里太太只是微笑，向他们招手。火车还没拐弯，比尔和查理已经消失了。
哈利、罗恩和荷米恩回到他们的车厢，密密的雨敲击着窗户，这使得他们很难看清外面，罗恩解开行李箱，抽出他紫酱色的衣抱，把他们盖在皮威军的笼子上，以掩住它的叫声。
“巴格蒙想告诉我们在霍格瓦彻发生的事。”他咕哝着，在哈利身旁坐下，“世界杯那时，记得吗？但我妈妈不会说的，我想知道到底是什么——”
“嘘！”荷米恩突然压低声音，手指按在唇上，指向隔壁车厢，哈利和罗恩一听，一个熟悉的拖长的嗓音从开着的门中飘过来。
“你知道，爸爸事实上考虑把我送往丹姆斯安而不是霍格瓦彻的，他认识那校长，嗯，你知道他对丹姆斯安的看法——那人很奇怪——丹姆斯安不承认那种不体面的东西，但妈妈不乐意我去那么远的地方上学，爸爸说丹姆斯安在巫术方面比霍格瓦彻更为高明。
丹姆斯安的学生事实上是在学法术，而不仅仅是像我们一样，做些防卫这种无意义的事。“
荷米恩站了起来，蹑足走到车厢门边，缓缓关上门，阻挡了马尔夫的嗓音。
“看来他认为丹姆斯安会适合他，对吗？”她生气地说，“我希望他早点滚开，那样我们就不必容忍他了。”
“丹姆斯安是另一所魔法学校吗？”哈利问。
“是的。”荷米恩哼了一声，“它的名声极为恶劣，据欧洲魔法教育评论，这学校非常注重巫术。”
“我想我已听说了。”罗恩含糊地说，“它在哪儿？哪个国家？”
“哎，谁都不知道，对吗？”荷米恩抬抬眉头说道。
“嗯，怎么会这样？”哈利问。
“传统上在所有的魔法学校间存在着很多竞争，丹姆斯安和比尔贝顿喜欢隐藏他们的行踪，这样就没有人能够窃取他们的秘密。”
荷米恩若有其事地说。
“别逗了，”罗恩开始大笑，“丹姆斯安大概就和霍格瓦彻一样大，你如何隐藏一个脏肮的大城堡？”
“但霍格瓦彻是隐形的。”荷米恩惊讶地说，“谁都知道……嗯，不管怎样，看了霍格瓦彻，读历史的都知道。”
“就只有你了。”罗恩说，“往下说吧——你怎么隐藏像霍格瓦彻那样的地方的？”
“它被施了魔法。”荷米恩说，“如果一个马格观察它，他们所见不过是一堆废墟，门口挂着写有‘危险勿进’的告示牌。”
“那么丹姆斯安在外人眼中也只是像堆废墟吗？”
“可能吧。”荷米恩耸耸肩，“或许它上面有马格禁地咒语，像世界杯体育馆一样，不让外来的魔法师找到它，他们把它弄成不可勘测的——”
“又来了？”
“哎，你可以施法于一个建筑，使它不可能在地图上被勘测到，是不是？”
“嗯……要是你这样说的话。”哈利说。
“但我认为丹姆斯安一定在远处北部的某个地方，”荷米恩思索着说，“一个很冷的地方，因为他们制服中有毛斗篷。”
“啊，想想那可能性，”罗恩梦呓般说，“不可能会这么容易把马尔夫推进冰河然后把这制造成一场意外……他妈妈那么喜欢他，多可惜啊……”
火车越往北开，雨也下的越大了，天空一片漆黑，窗户雾气蒙蒙，正午就点上灯笼。餐车嘎嘎地沿着走廊过来了，哈利买了一大叠大锅蛋糕分着吃。
下午有几个朋友，包括谢默斯，迪恩和尼维尔，来看望他们，谢默斯仍戴着他那爱尔兰缎结，它的一些魔力似乎消耗掉了，虽然它还是“特格！马利特！莫兰！”这样吱吱作响，但已是一种微弱，快耗尽的声音了，过了大约半个小时，荷米恩厌倦了无休止的快迪斯谈话，又开始埋头阅读《标准符咒课本。四年级》试图学一种召唤咒语。
尼维尔妒嫉地听着别人重温世界杯赛事的谈话。
“格林佐不想去，”他痛苦地说，“不会买票，虽说听起来让人大吃一惊。”
“是的。”罗恩说，“看这个，尼维尔……”
他翻检着放在行李架上的箱子，拖出一个维特。克伦的微型雕像。
“哇！”尼维尔羡慕地叫了起来，罗恩把克伦塞到他胖乎乎的手里。
“我们也很近地看过他。”罗恩说，“那时是在上等厢。”
“那是你一生中第一次也是最后一次，威斯里。”
杰高。马尔夫出现在走廊中，身后站着克来伯和高尔，他们是他的死党，长的又高又大，像个罪犯，这个夏天他俩至少长高了一英尺，很显然，当迪恩和谢默斯让门开着的时候，他们通过车厢门听到了谈话。
“别说你要加入我们，马尔夫。”哈利冷冷地说。
“威斯里……那是什么？”马尔夫指着皮威军的笼子问道。罗恩的衣袍的一只袖子从笼子上垂了下来，随着火车的移动摇晃着，那发霉的带花边袖子非常显眼。
罗恩试图把袍子塞起来，但马尔夫比他更快，他抓住袖子一抽。
“看哪！”马尔夫欣喜若狂。他举着罗恩的饱子给克来伯和高尔看。“威斯里，你不会想穿把。我说——这在1890年左右很时兴……”
“闭嘴，马尔夫！”罗恩喝道，他从马尔夫紧握的手中扯回饱子，他涨红的脸如同袍子的颜色。马尔夫由此而来的大笑响如嚎叫，而克来伯和高尔跟着傻笑。
“看来，你要报名参加了，是不是，威斯里？弄点荣誉光耀门桅？你知道，那还会有钱进帐的，你将能够担负得起一件体面的饱子的花费，如果你赢了……”
“你们在说什么？”罗恩厉声说。
“你要报名参加吗？”马尔夫重复道，“我想你会的，波特，你从不放过任何炫耀的机会，对吧？”
“要么解释你的话，要么滚开，马尔夫。”荷米恩从《标准符咒课本。四年级》上抬起头来生气地说。
马尔夫苍白的脸上掠过一丝的意外的微笑。
“别告诉我你们不知道。”他高兴地说，“你爸、你哥都在部里，而你居然不知道？上帝！我爸爸几年前就告诉了我……从可尼斯。
法治那听来的，但那时，爸爸经常和部里高层人物来往……可能你爸官位卑职小不知道这事，威斯里……是的，他们极可能不在他面前谈论部里的要事……“
又一次大笑起来，马尔夫向克来伯和高尔打着手势，他们三个便离开了。
罗恩站了起来，砰地在他们身后重重地关上车厢的门，他用力很大，玻璃都震碎了。
“罗恩！”荷米恩责备地喊了一声，她抽出魔杖，念道“恢复！”
碎玻璃飞起来重新合成一片，然后又飞回门上。
“好，就当他什么都知道，我们不……”罗恩吼道：“爸爸经常和部里高层人物来往……爸爸任何时候都可以得到升职的……他只是乐于在他现在的职位……”
“当然是这样的。”荷米恩平静地说，“别把马尔夫的话当真，罗恩——”
“哼！当真！做梦！”罗恩拿起一块剩下的蛋糕把它一起塞进口中。
接下来的行程中，罗恩仍是一副坏心情，他们换上了校袍，他并不多说话，当霍格瓦彻快车慢慢减速，最后停在漆黑的霍格马得车站时，他还是怒火冲天。
火车门打开了，一阵雷声响起，荷米恩把克路殊克捆起，放在斗篷里，罗恩则把衣抱盖在皮威军上边，下了火车。迎着倾泻而下的雨，他们低着头，眯着眼往前行。现在雨下的又密又快，似乎是成桶成桶的冰水不断地从他们头上倒下来。
“嗨，哈格力！”哈利看到在站台的远处一端有个高大的背影就叫了起来。
“哎！哈利？”哈格力回过头来，挥挥手，“要是没淹死的话，在庆典上见吧！”
一年级学生按传统总是和哈格力坐船通过湖泊抵达霍格瓦彻城堡的。
“唉，我不能想象在这种天气里穿过湖泊，”荷米患急切地说，他们和人群在一起，小步小步地慢慢沿着黑暗的平台往前走。一百辆没套马的车子在车站外等候他们。哈利、罗恩、荷米恩和尼维尔满怀感激，爬进其中的一辆，门叭地关上了。几分钟后，随着剧烈的晃动，车子嘎吱嘎吱地开始了它的征途，溅着泥水，蹒跚在通向霍格瓦彻城堡的路上。
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