Chapter 21 — The Journey to Hogwarts
The next morning, I woke up before the alarm rang. My heart was already racing. Today was the day — Hogwarts day. For a moment, I just lay there staring at the ceiling, letting it sink in. Then I jumped up, washed, dressed, and double-checked my trunk for the tenth time. Everything was packed and ready.
Downstairs, the house was already awake. Mum was fluttering around the kitchen with her usual energy, but I could tell she was nervous. Dad was pretending to read the newspaper, though he'd been staring at the same page for ages. Dudley was sitting at the table, chewing toast lazily, glancing at me now and then with a strange look. Harry was quiet, trying not to bounce in excitement.
Breakfast was quick and a little awkward. Nobody seemed to know what to say. Even Mum's usual chatter was replaced with small sighs and quick looks in my direction.
When the clock struck eight, Dad stood up and said, "Right then. Let's get this show on the road."
We all piled into the car. It was a bright, crisp morning. The drive to King's Cross took a while, and for most of it, no one spoke. I stared out of the window, watching the scenery roll by, my stomach a knot of excitement and nerves.
When we finally pulled up at the station, the big clock above the entrance showed ten minutes to ten. The usual rush of people filled the station — businessmen in suits, families with luggage, students with travel bags. To anyone else, we were just another family seeing someone off.
We made our way through the crowd to the main concourse. Platforms Nine and Ten stood side by side, with rows of brick pillars and signs above them. I knew from the letter that I needed Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, but standing there between two perfectly ordinary platforms, it suddenly felt ridiculous.
"Platform nine and three-quarters," Dad muttered, reading the ticket again. "There's no such thing. Utter nonsense."
Mum gave him a warning look. "Vernon, not now."
I smiled a little and said, "It's fine. I'll manage."
Mum turned to me, eyes shining a bit. "Write to us, Arthur. Every week, you hear?"
"I will," I promised. "I'll send letters with an owl, so make sure you don't faint when it lands."
That got a tiny laugh out of her. Dad just gave me a curt nod. "Well, off you go, son. Do… well, whatever they teach you there."
Dudley stepped forward awkwardly. "You'll tell me what magic classes are like, yeah?"
"Of course," I said, smiling.
And then Harry — small, bright-eyed Harry — tugged at my sleeve. "You'll come back for Christmas, right?"
I crouched down and looked him in the eye. "Of course Yes. We will all celebrate Christmas together."
He grinned wide, and that made it harder to leave.
After a round of hugs, I waved and started off with my trolley, following the crowd of travelers. I'd left Brigid, the cat, at home — she was better off there, keeping Harry company.
I looked around the area between Platforms Nine and Ten. The place was full of families rushing for trains, but one brick pillar caught my attention — it looked a bit different from the rest. I noticed a family ahead, a mother and her children, walking straight toward it. And then, to my amazement, they simply vanished.
That had to be it.
"Right then," I muttered under my breath, gripping my trolley tightly. "Here goes."
I walked straight toward the pillar — and instead of crashing into it, I felt a cool, tingling rush all over my body, like walking through a thin veil of mist.
And then — just like that — the world changed.
I was standing on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
The noise hit me first — laughter, chatter, the hiss of steam. The air smelled of metal, smoke, and something sweet, like chocolate. Before me stood a magnificent scarlet steam engine, gleaming under the morning light, with a shining sign reading Hogwarts Express — 11 o'clock.
Families were everywhere — hugging, calling out instructions, chasing after pets. Cats meowed from baskets, owls hooted in cages, and trunks clattered along the platform. There was a sort of magic in the air.
For a moment, I just stood there, drinking it all in. It felt great.
Then I found an empty spot near the back of the train, loaded my trunk, and climbed aboard. The corridor was narrow and full of chatter as students looked for seats. I walked along until I found a compartment that was mostly empty and slipped inside.
I sat down, took out A History of Hogwarts, and tried to read, though my eyes kept drifting to the window. The platform outside was still busy, steam curling around the people as they said their last goodbyes.
A few minutes later, the door slid open, and two boys stepped in.
"Mind if we sit here? Everywhere else is packed," said one — a boy with brown hair and a friendly grin.
"Sure," I said. "Go ahead."
They pulled their trunks inside.
"I'm Arthur," I said, offering a hand.
The brown-haired boy smiled. "Nice to meet you. First year too?"
"Yeah," I said. "First year."
His friend, a quiet boy with sandy hair, nodded. "Feels strange, doesn't it? Like we're stepping into a dream."
"More like the start of one," I said.
The train gave a loud whistle, and the platform outside began to blur as the Hogwarts Express started to move. Parents waved, some crying, some smiling proudly.
And then the station was gone.
The countryside rolled past, fields and rivers and distant hills, all glowing in the late summer light. The three of us chatted about everything and nothing — what we'd heard about Hogwarts, which subjects sounded the hardest, what kind of food they might serve.
After a while, the trolley witch came by with her cart. I bought a Chocolate Frog and a Pumpkin Pastie, and one of the boys shared his Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. It all felt wonderfully ordinary and magical at the same time.
As the hours went by, the sun sank lower in the sky. The train slowed down, steam billowing outside the windows. We were told to put on our robes. The excitement in the air was almost electric.
When the train finally stopped, the door opened to cool evening air and the glow of lanterns. I stepped out, clutching my bag, and took in my first sight of Hogsmeade Station — dark wood, flickering lights, the smell of pine and damp stone.
Then a booming voice cut through the chatter.
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years this way!"
I turned and saw a giant of a man holding a lantern — unmistakably Hagrid.
We followed him down a narrow, slippery path that wound through the dark trees. The night air was cool, and our footsteps echoed softly on the wet ground. After a few turns, we came around a bend — and the view opened up.
Gasps rippled through the group.
Across the vast, black lake stood a castle, rising out of the rock like something out of a dream. Its windows glowed with golden light, towers and turrets stretching into the starlit sky. The reflection shimmered on the still water below, and for a long moment, I just stood there, staring.
That was Hogwarts.
End of Chapter 21 — Journey to Hogwarts