No Turning Back Now.

The end of the summer holidays came too quickly for my liking. I was looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts, but my two months at The Burrow had been the happiest I’d been for ages. It was difficult not to feel jealous of Ron when I thought of home, and not having anyone around most of the time.

On our last evening, Mrs Weasley conjured up a sumptuous dinner which included with all mine and Harry’s favourite things, ending with a mouth-watering treacle pudding. Fred and George rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they filled the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed.

It took a long while to get started the next morning. We were up at cock-crow, but somehow we still seemed to have a great deal to do. Mrs Weasley dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills, people kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed with bits of toast in their hands, and Mr Weasley nearly broke his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying Ginny’s trunk to the car.

I couldn’t see how nine people, seven large trunks, three owls and a rat were going to fit into one small Ford Anglia. I had reckoned, of course, without the special features which Mr Weasley had added.

“Not a word to Molly,” he whispered to Harry and I as he opened the boot and showed us how it had been magically expanded so that the trunks fitted easily.

When at last we were all in the car, Mrs Weasley glanced into the back seat, where, Harry, Ron, Fred George, Percy and I were all sitting comfortably side by side, and said, ‘Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don’t they?’ She and Ginny got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a park bench. ‘I mean, you’d never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?’

Mr Weasley started up the engine and we trundled out of the yard, me turning back for a last look at the house. I barely had time to wonder when I’d see it again when we were back.

George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes after that, we skidded to a halt in the yard so Fred could run in for his broomstick. We had almost reached the motorway when Ginny shrieked that she’d left her diary. By the time she had clambered back into the car, we were running very late, and tempers were running high.

Mr Weasley glanced 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’s 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.”

We reached King’s Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys for out trunks and we all hurried into the station. We had all caught the Hogwarts Express the previous year, apart from Ginny, of course. The tricky bit was getting onto the platform nine and three quarters, which wasn’t visible to the Muggle eye. What you had to do was walk through the solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. It didn’t hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muffles noticed you vanishing.

“Percy first,” said Mrs Weasley, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed we had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier.

Percy strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr Weasley went next, Fred and George followed.
“I’ll take Ginny and you three come right after us,” Mrs Weasley told us, grabbing Ginny’s hand and setting off. In the blink of an eye they were gone.

“Let’s go together, we’ve only got a minute,” Ron said.

I made sure Calandra’s cage was safely wedged on top of my trunk and wheeled my trolley about to face the barrier. I felt perfectly confident; this wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as using Floo powder. The three of us bent low over the handles of our trolleys and walked purposefully towards the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, we broke into a run and –

All three trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backwards. Ron’s trunk fell off with a loud thump, Harry was knocked to off his feet and Hedwig’s cage bounced onto the shiny floor and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly. People all around us stared and a guard nearby yelled, “What in the blazes d’you think you’re doing?”

“Lost control of the trolley,” Harry gasped, clutching his ribs as he got up.

I ran to pick up Hedwig, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd.

“Why can’t we get through?” I hissed to the boys.

“I dunno-“

Ron looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching us.

“We’re going to miss the train,” I whispered. “I don’t understand why the gateway’s sealed itself...”

I looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ten seconds... nine seconds...

“It’s gone,” said 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 gave a hollow laugh. “The Dursleys haven’t given me pocket money for six years.”
Ron pressed his ear to the cold barrier.

“Can’t hear a thing,” he said tensely. “What’re we going to do? I don’t know how long it’ll take Mum and Dad to get back to us.”

We look around. People were still watching us, mainly because of Hedwig’s continuing screeches, and Calandra, who had decided to join in.

“I think we’d better go and wait by the car,” said Harry. “We’re attracting too much atten-“

“Harry!” I said, my eyes gleaming. “The car!”

“What about it?”

“We can fly the car to Hogwarts!”

“But I thought –“

“We’re stuck, right? And we’ve got to get to school, haven’t we? And even under-age wizards are allowed to use magic if it’s a real emergency, section nineteen or something of the Restriction of Thingy..”

I felt my panic turn into excitement.

“Can you fly it?” I asked Ron.
“No problem,” said 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.”

We marched off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station and back into the side road where the old Ford Anglia was parked. Ron unlocked the cavernous boot witha series of taps from his wand. We heaved our trunks back in, put Hedwig and Calandra on the back seat and got into the front.

“Check no one’s watching,” said Ron, starting the ignition with another tap of his wand. I stuck my head out of the window; traffic was rumbling along the main road again, but our street was empty.

“OK,” I said.

Ron pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard. The car around us vanished – and so did we. I could feel the seat vibrating beneath me, hear the engine, feel my hands on my knees and my hair on my neck, but for all I could see, I had become a pair of eyeballs, floating a few feet above the ground in a dingy street full of parked cars.

“Let’s go,” said Ron’s voice to my right.

The ground and the dirty buildings on either side fell away, dropping out of sight as the car rose; in seconds, the whole of London lay, smoky and glittering, below us. There was a popping noise and the car, Harry, Ron and I reappeared.

“Uh oh,” said Ron, jabbing at the Invisibility Booster. “It’s faulty –“

Harry and Ron both pummelled it. The car vanished. Then it flickered back again.

“Hold on!” Ron yelled, and he slammed his foot on the accelerator; we shot straight into the low woolly clouds and everything turned dull and foggy.

“Now what?” I said, blinking at the solid mass of cloud pressing in on us from all sides.

“We need to see the train to know what direction to go in,” said Ron.

“Dip back down again – quickly-“

We dropped back beneath the clouds and twisted around in our seats, squinting at the ground –

“I can see it!” Harry yelled. “Right ahead – there!”

The Hogwarts Express was streaking along below us like a scarlet snake.

“Due north,” said Ron, checking the compass on the dashboard. “OK, we’ll just have to check on it every half an hour or so. Hold on ...” And we shot up through the clouds. A minute later, we burst out into a blaze of sunlight.

It was a different world. The wheels of the car skimmed the sea of fluffy cloud, the sky a bright, endless blue under the blinding white sun.

“All we’ve got to worry about now are aeroplanes,” I said.

We all looked at each other and started to laugh; for a long time, we couldn’t stop.

It was as though we had been plunged into a fabulous dream. This, I thought, was surely the only way to travel: past swirls and turrets of snowy cloud, in a car full of hot, bright sunlight, with a fat pack of toffees in the glove compartment, and the prospect of seeing Fred and George’s jealous faces when we landed smoothly and spectacularly on the sweeping wan in front of Hogwarts castle.

We made regular checks on the trains as we flew further and further north, each dip beneath the clouds showing us a different view. London was soon far behind us, replaced by neat green fields which gave 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 had to admit that some of the fun was wearing off. The toffees had made us extremely thirsty and we had nothing to drink. We all pulled off our jumpers, and my back stuck to the seat of the car. I had stopped noticing the fantastic cloud shapes now, and was thinking longingly of the train miles below, where you could buy ice-cold pumpkin juice from a trolley pushed by a plump witch. Why hadn’t we been able to get onto platform nine and three quarters?

“Can’t be much further, can it?” croaked Ron, hours later still, as the sun started to sink into the flood of clouds, staining it a deep pink. “Ready for another check on the train?”

It was still right below us, winding its way past a snow-capped mountain. It was much darker beneath the canopy of clouds. Ron put his foot on the ecceleraator and drove us upwards again, as he did so, the engine began to whine.

We exchanged nervous glances.

“It’s probably just tired,” said Ron. “It’s never been this far before...”

And we all pretended not to notice the whining growing louder and louder as the sky became steadily darker. Stars were blossoming in the blackness, and I pulled my jumper back on, trying to ignore the way the windscreen wipers were now waving feebly, as though in protest.

“Not far,” said Ron, more to the car than Harry and me, “not far now,” and he patted the dashboard nervously.

When we flew back beneath the clouds a little while later, we had to squint through the darkness of a landmark we knew.

“There!” Harry shouted, making the owls, Ron, and I jump. “Straight ahead!”

Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on the cliff over the lake, stood the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts castle. But the car had begun to shudder and was losing speed.

“Come on,” Ron said cajolingly, giving the steering wheel a little shake, “nearly there, come on-“

The engine groaned. Narrow jets of steam were issuing from under the bonnet. I found myself gripping the edges of my seat very hard as we flew towards the lake. The car gave a nasty wobble. Glancing out of my window, I saw the smooth, black, glassy surface of the water, a mile below. Ron’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The car wobbled again.

“Come on,” Ron muttered.

We were over the lake... the castle was right ahead... Ron put his foot down. There was a loud clunk, a splutter, and the engine died completely.

“Uh oh,” said Ron, into the silence.

The nose of the car dropped. We were falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the solid castle wall.

“Noooooo!” Ron yelled, swinging the steering wheel around; we missed the dark stone wall by inches as the car turned 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 let go of the steering wheel completely and pulled his wand out of his pocket.

“STOP! STOP!” he yelled, whacking the dashboard and the windscreen, but we were still plummeting, the ground flying up towards us...

“MIND THAT TREE!” I bellowed, 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 dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from under the crumpled bonnet; the owls were shrieking in terror, a golf-ball sized lump was throbbing on my head where I’d had hit the windscreen, and to my right, Ron let out a low, despairing groan.

“Are you OK?” I said urgently.

“My wand,” said Ron, in a shaky voice. “Look at my wand.”

It had snapped, almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on by a few splinters.
Me and Harry opened our mouths, probably to say that we’d be able to end it up at school, but we never even got the chance to get start. At that very moment, something hit my side of the car with the force of a charging bull, sending me lurching sideways into Harry, just as an equally heavy blow hit the roof.

“What’s happen –?”

I gasped, staring through the windscreen, as a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree we had hit was attacking us. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled boughs were pummelling every inch of the car it could reach.

“Aaargh!” said Ron, as another twisted limb punched a large dent into his door; the windscreen was now trembling under a hail of blows from knuckle-like twigs and a branch as thick as a battering ram was pounding furiously on the roof, which seemed to be caving in –

“Run for it!” Ron shouted, throwing his full weight against his door, but next second he had been knocked backwards into Harry’s lap by a vicious upper cut from another branch.
“We’re done for!” I moaned, as the ceiling sagged, but suddenly the floor of the car was vibrating – the engine had re-started.

“Reverse!” Harry yelled, and the car shot backwards. The tree was still trying to hit us; we could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped itself up, lashing out at us as we sped out of reach.

“That,” I panted, “was close. Well done, car.”

The car, however, had reached the end of its tether. With two smart clunks, the doors flew open and I felt the seat tip sideways: next thing I knew I was sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thuds told me that the car was ejecting our luggage from the boot. Hedwig’s and Calandra’s cages flew through the air and burst open: both of them rose out of them with a loud, angry screech and sped off towards the castle without a backwards look. Then, dented, scratched and steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.
“Come back!” Ron yelled after it, brandishing his broken wand. “Dad’ll kill me!”

But the car disappeared from view with one last snort from its exhaust.

“Can you believe our luck?” said Ron miserably, bending down to pick up Scabbers the rat. “Of all the trees we could’ve hit, we had to get one that hits back.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the ancient tree, which was still flailing its branches threateningly.

“Come on,” I said wearily, “we’d better get up to the school....”

It wasn’t at all the triumphant arrival we had pictured. Stiff, cold and bruised, we seized the ends of our trunks and began dragging them up the grassy slope, towards the great oak front doors.

“I think the feast’s already started,” I said, dropping my trunk at the foot of the front steps and crossing quietly to look through a brightly lit window. “Hey, guys, come and look – it’s the Sorting!”

They hurried over and together, we peered in at the Great Hall. Innumerable candles were hovering in mid-air over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars.

Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, I could see a long line of scared-looking first years filing into the Hall. Ginny was amongst them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, a bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun, was placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.

Every year, this aged old hat, patched, frayed and dirty, sorted new students into four Hogwarts houses (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin). I remembered putting it on, exactly one year ago, and waiting, petrified, for its decision. Last term, Harry, Ron and I had helped Gryffindor win the House Championship, beating Slytherin for the first time in seven years.

A very small, mousey-haired boy had been called forward to place the hat on his head. My eyes wandered past him to where Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, I saw Gilderoy Lockhart, dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Hagrid, huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.

“Hang on...” I muttered. “There’s an empty chair at the staff table... Where’s Snape?”

Professor Severus Snape was, without a doubt, my least favourite teacher. Cruel, sarcastic and disliked by everybody except the students from his own house (Slytherin), Snape taught Potions.

“Maybe he’s ill!” said Ron hopefully.

“Maybe he’s left,” Harry said, “because he missed out on the Defence Against the Dark Arts job again!”

“Or he might have been sacked!” said Ron enthusiastically. “I mean, everyone hates him –“
“Or maybe,” said a very cold voice right behind us, “he’s waiting to hear why you three didn’t arrive on the school train."

I spun around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze, stood Severus Snape. He was a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked nose and greasy, shoulder-length black hair, and at this moment, he was smiling in a way that told us we were in very deep trouble.

“Follow me,” said Snape.

Not daring to even look at each other, we followed Snape up the steps into the cast, echoing entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches. A delicious smell of food was wafting from the Great Hall, but Snape led us away from the warmth and light, down a narrow staircase that led into the dungeons.