I didn't have a good night's sleep. My regular nightmares interwove with my idiotic worries about Gennie and Cole, with Cole leaving Gennie crying and alone. As I woke up, I hit my head severly on the pillow. Cole would never hurt Gennie. They had been through too much together to even consider breaking up.

"Stop attacking your pillow, and get up!" Gennie said, sounding irritable. I sat up, to see her putting her earrings in. "Molly's going mental--saying we'll miss the train. I told Ron we could just enchant a flying car again, but he didn't find that funny..."

"I'm not surprised, seen as you crashed into the whomping willow the last time." I grumbled, rolling out of bed to pull on my jeans.

There was a lot of commotion in the house. From what he heard as he dressed at top speed, I gathered that Fred and George had bewitched their trunks to fly downstairs to save the bother of carrying them, with the result that they had hurtled straight into Ginny and knocked her down two flights of stairs into the hall.

Mrs. Black, Lacey Mrs. Weasley were both screaming at the top of their voices. From what I could hear, Ginny pulled Hollie down the stairs with her as well.

 “- COULD HAVE DONE THEM A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS -”

"--WHY DO YOU HAVE TO USE MAGIC FOR EVERYTHING? WHY CAN'T YOU WIZARDS DO IT THE NORMAL WAY FOR ONCE?" 

 “- FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS -” 

I un-cerimoniously dragged my trunk out of the bedroom, my hair surrounding my head like a bird's nest, glasses slipping down my nose. Hollie darted up the stairs, limping slightly. She had Minnie in her arms.

"Here you go!" She said, and she draped Minnie over my shoulders.

 “WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!” Mrs. Weasley bellowed, and with great difficulty, Hollie helped me drag my trunk and yowling cat down the flights of stairs.

Mrs. Black’s portrait was howling with rage but nobody was bothering to close the curtains over her; all the noise in the hall was bound to rouse her again, anyway. 

 “Harry and Rory, you’re to come with me and Tonks,” shouted Mrs. Weasley - over the repeated screeches  of “MUDBLOODS! SCUM! CREATURES OF DIRT!” - “Leave your trunk, cat and your owl, Alastor’s going to deal with the luggage… oh, for heaven’s sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!” 

 A bear-like black dog had appeared at Harry’s side as he was clambering over the various trunks cluttering the hall to get to Mrs. Weasley. 

 “Oh honestly…” said Mrs. Weasley despairingly. “Well, on your own head be it!’ 

 She wrenched open the front door and stepped out into the weak September sunlight. Harry and the dog and I followed her. The door slammed behind them and Mrs. Blacks screeches were cut off instantly. 

 “Where’s Tonks?” Harry said, looking round as they went down the stone steps of number twelve, which vanished the moment they reached the pavement. 

 “She’s waiting for us just up here,” said Mrs. Weasley stiffly, averting her eyes from the lolloping black dog beside Harry. 

 An old woman greeted them on the corner. She had tightly curled grey hair and wore a purple hat shaped like a pork pie. 

 “Wotcher,” she said, winking. “Better hurry up, hadn’t we, Molly?” she added, checking her watch. 

 “I know, I know,” moaned Mrs. Weasley, lengthening her stride, “but Mad-Eye wanted to wait for Sturgis… if only Arthur could have got us cars from the Ministry again… but Fudge won’t let him borrow so much as an empty ink bottle these days… how Muggles can stand traveling without magic.” 

 But the great black dog gave a joyful bark and gamboled around them, snapping at pigeons and chasing its own tail. I couldn’t help laughing. Sirius had been trapped inside for a very long time. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips in an almost Aunt Petunia-ish way. 

 It took them twenty minutes to reach King’s Cross on foot and nothing more eventful happened during that time than Sirius scaring a couple of cats for our entertainment. Once inside the station they lingered casually beside the barrier between platforms nine and ten until the coast was clear, then each of them leaned against it in turn and fell easily through on to platform nine and three-quarters.

I grinned widely. I was really going back. It had been so long, and now at last I was returning home where everything could finally look up.

 “I hope the others make it in time,” said Mrs. Weasley anxiously, staring behind her at the wrought-iron arch spanning the platform, through which new arrivals would come. 

 “Nice dog, Harry!” called a tall boy with dreadlocks. It was Lee Jordan, the twins friend.

 “Thanks, Lee,” said Harry, grinning, as Sirius wagged his tail frantically. 

 “Oh good,” said Mrs. Weasley, sounding relieved, “here’s Alastor with the luggage, look…” 

 A porter’s cap pulled low over his mismatched eyes, Moody came limping through the archway pushing a trolley loaded with their trunks. 

 “All okay,” he muttered to Mrs. Weasley and Tonks, “don’t think we were followed…” 

 Seconds later, Mr. Weasley emerged on to the platform with Ron and Hermione. They had almost unloaded Moody’s luggage trolley when the others turned up with Lupin. I noticed Lacey was holding George's hand, and I smirked at her.

Lacey and Hollie came over to me, and said their goodbyes. For a moment, my heart ached. I loved that they were a part of this life with me now, not excluded by what was clearly Mark's burning desire to keep them away.

But I wished Jenna was alive, that she was here to see all that had changed. I wanted her to see Lacey and George's clearly growing relationship, and Hollie's determination in house-elf rights. I wanted her to be here, hugging me goodbye. But no--she was dead. Because of me.

I pressed my fingers into my palm, a method I had come up with to stop all my sad thoughts. The pills, while helping me a bit, couldn't entirely control these thoughts that swirled into my head.

Lacey put her hand on my shoulder, her eyes serious. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, and blinked a few times to stop the tears. "Just wishing Jenna was here."

Lacey pulled me into a hug. "Me too, kid. Me too." she wiped at her eyes furiously, before saying: "I guess we'll see you at christmas. Don't forget to write!"

"Of course I won't!" I said, and I stroked Hollie's hair absently. "Now you have a good day at school tomorrow, okay?"

Hollie's first day was tomorrow, and more than anything I wanted to be there to see her off. It couldn't be done unfortunately, but at least I knew she would be okay.

"I will." Hollie said with a determined smile.

 “No trouble?” growled Moody. 

 “Nothing,” said Lupin. 

 “I’ll still be reporting Sturgis to Dumbledore,” said Moody, “that’s the second time he’s not turned up in a week. Getting as unreliable as Mundungus.” 

 “Well, look after yourselves,” said Lupin, shaking hands all round. He reached Harry last and gave him a clap on the shoulder. “You too Harry. Be careful.” 

 “Yeah, keep your head down and your eyes peeled,” said Moody, shaking Harry’s hand too. He just awkwardly patted me on the shoulder “And don’t forget, all of you - careful what you put in writing. If in doubt, don’t put it in a letter at all.” 

 “It’s been great meeting all of you,” said Tonks, hugging Hermione and Ginny “We’ll see you soon, I expect.” 

 A warning whistle sounded; the students still on the platform started hurrying on to the train. 

“Quick, quick,” said Mrs. Weasley distractedly, hugging them at random and catching Harry twice. “Write… be good… if you’ve forgotten anything we’ll send it on… on to the train, now, hurry…” 

 For one brief moment, the great black dog reared on to its hind legs and placed its front paws on Harry’s shoulders before nudging his head on my side, but Mrs. Weasley shoved Harry away towards the train door, hissing, “For heaven’s sake, act more like a dog, Sirius!” and then she turned, and said: "George, get on the train--stop kissing Lacey!"

And he was. Lacey and George were caught in an embrace that looked both very cute and passionate at the same time. I heard a wolf-whistle, and realised it was Fred and snickered.

George pulled away from Lacey, kissing her quickly on the cheek before leaping onto the train. I followed him, and shouted back to Lacey: "Told you he liked you back!"

She rolled her eyes at me, and started to wave as she pulled Hollie to her side. The train began to move, while the figures of Tonks, Lupin, Moody, Lacey, Hollie and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shrank rapidly but the black dog was bounding alongside the window, wagging its tail; blurred people on the platform were laughing to see it chasing the train, then they rounded a bend, and Sirius was gone. 

 “He shouldn’t have come with us,” said Hermione in a worried voice. 

 “Oh, lighten up,” said Ron, “he hasn’t seen daylight for months, poor bloke.” 

 “Well,” said Fred, clapping his hands together, “can’t stand around chatting all day, we’ve got business to discuss with Lee, Cole and Alia. See you later,”

"Hold on, I'll come with." Gennie said with a smile. "I haven't seen Alia in ages."

"More like an excuse to snog your boyfriend." I rolled my eyes. "Oh, and George?"

"Yeah?" he said. "Are you going to give me a big speech on how to not hurt Lacey?"

"No. She would hurt you, she's getting much better at mixed martial arts." I said with a dazzling smile, patting George on the shoulder. "You guys are good for each other, so treat her well!"

"I will." George said with a grin, and then he followed Fred and Gennie down the train corridor.

The train was gathering still more speed, so that the houses outside the window flashed past, and they swayed where they stood. 

 “Shall we go and find a compartment, then?” Harry asked. 

 Ron and Hermione exchanged looks. 

 “Er,” said Ron. 

 “We’re - well - Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage,” Hermione said awkwardly. 

 Ron wasn’t looking at Harry; he seemed to have become intensely interested in the fingernails on his left hand. 

"Okay then, have fun." I said.

 “I don’t think we’ll have to stay there all journey,” said Hermione quickly. “Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time.” 

 “Fine,” said Harry again. “Well, I - I might see you later, then.” 

 “Yeah, definitely,” said Ron, casting a shifty, anxious look at Harry. “It’s a pain having to go down there, I’d rather - but we have to -I mean, I’m not enjoying it, I’m not Percy,” he finished defiantly. 

 “I know you’re not,” said Harry and he grinned. But the smile faded when Ron and Hermione vanished.

"He looks a little lost, don't you think Gin?" I said to Ginny, who nodded. "Is it because you've never rode the train without your bff?"

Harry rolled his eyes at me. “Come on,” Ginny told him, “if we get a move on we’ll be able to save them places.” 

 “Right,” said Harry, picking up Hedwig’s cage in one hand and the handle of his trunk in the other.

I released Minnie from her cage, and let her sit on my shoulders like some docile sort of snake. It seemed pretty much all of the compartments were full. I couldn't help notice people were staring at Harry and I.

I knew people thought Harry was a liar, and I was a fraud, but it was quite uncomfortable for people staring at us. How many people believed us?

In the very last carriage we met Neville Longbottom, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor. 

 “Hi, Harry” he panted. “Hi, Ginny, hi, Rory… everywhere’s full… I can’t find a seat…” 

 “What are you talking about?” said Ginny, who had squeezed past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. “There’s room in this one, there’s only Loony Lovegood in here —” 

 Neville mumbled something about not wanting to disturb anyone. 

 “Don’t be silly,” said Ginny, laughing, “she’s all right.” 

 She slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside. We followed.

 “Hi, Luna,” said Ginny, “is it okay if we take these seats?” 

 The girl beside the window looked up. She had straggly, waist-length, dirty blonde hair, very pale eyebrows and protuberant eyes that gave her a permanently surprised look. The girl gave off an aura of distinct dottiness.

Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of Butterbeer corks, or that she was reading a magazine upside-down. Her eyes ranged over us, and she nodded.

 “Thanks,” said Ginny, smiling at her. 

 Harry and Neville stowed the four trunks and Hedwig and Minnie's cages in the luggage rack and sat down. 

Luna watched them over her upside-down magazine, which was called The Quibbler. She did not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stared and stared at Harry, who had taken the seat opposite her and looked like he regretted it.

 “Had a good summer, Luna?” Ginny asked. 

 “Yes,” said Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harry. “Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You’re Harry and Aurora Potter,” she added. 

"I know we are." I said with a smile. A lot of people would instantly think this girl strange, but she looked odd in a nice way. 

I was always drawn to slightly odd people: Kayley was always a strange muffin in the basket, and Cole was, well, Cole.

 Neville chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes on him instead. 

 “And I don’t know who you are.” 

 “I’m nobody,” said Neville hurriedly. 

 “No you’re not,” said Ginny sharply. “Neville Longbottom - Luna Lovegood. Luna’s in my year, but in Ravenclaw.” 

 “Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure,” said Luna in a singsong voice. She raised her upside-down magazine high enough to hide her face and fell silent.

Harry and Neville looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. Ginny suppressed a giggle. 

"Well," I said. "I didn't know the houses had songs. We should really bring that back into fashion."

Over the top of her magazine, Luna gave me a tiny smile.

 The train rattled onwards, speeding them out into open country. It was an odd, unsettled sort of day; one moment the carriage was full of sunlight and the next they were passing beneath ominously grey clouds. 

 “Guess what I got for my birthday?” said Neville. 

 “Another Remembrall?” 

 “No,” said Neville. “I could do with one, though, I lost the old one ages ago… no, look at this…” 

 He dug the hand that was not keeping a firm grip on Trevor into his schoolbag and after a little bit of rummaging pulled out what appeared to be a small grey cactus in a pot, except that it was covered with what looked like boils rather than spines. 

 “Mimbulus mimbletonia,” he said proudly. 

I stared at the thing. It was pulsating slightly, giving it the rather sinister look of some diseased internal organ. 

 “It’s really, really rare,” said Neville, beaming. “I don’t know if there’s one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts, even. I can’t wait to show it to Professor Sprout. My Great Uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I’m going to see if I can breed from it.” 

 I knew that Neville’s favorite subject was Herbology but I could not see what he would want with this stunted little plant. 

 “Does it - er - do anything?” I asked. 

 “Loads of stuff!” said Neville proudly. “It’s got an amazing defensive mechanism. Here, hold Trevor for me…” 

 He dumped the toad into my lap and took a quill from his schoolbag. Luna Lovegood’s popping eyes appeared over the top of her upside-down magazine again, to watch what Neville was doing.

Neville held the Mimbulus mimbletonia up t o his eyes, his tongue between his teeth, chose his spot, and gave the plant a sharp prod with the tip of his quill. 

 Liquid squirted from every boil on the plant; thick, stinking, dark green jets of it. They hit the ceiling, the windows, and spattered Luna Lovegood’s magazine; Ginny, who had flung her arms up in front of her face just in time, merely looked as though she was wearing a slimy green hat.

I had ducked to grab an escaping Trevor, so I only had some dripping on his hair. But Harry had tried to grab Trevor and recieved a faceful. It smelled like rancid manure. With a gag, I moved away from Harry.

Neville, whose face and torso were also drenched, shook his head to get the worst out of his eyes. 

 “S - sorry,” he gasped. “I haven’t tried that before… didn’t realize it would be quite so… don’t worry, though, Stinksap’s not poisonous,” he added nervously, as Harry spat a mouthful on to the floor. 

 At that precise moment the door of their compartment slid open. 

 “Oh… hello, Harry,” said a nervous voice. “Um… bad time?” 

 Cho Chang, the Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team was stood in the doorway. She was also the girl who Harry had a massive crush on.

 “Oh… hi,” said Harry blankly. 

 “Um…” said Cho. “Well… just thought I’d say hello… bye then.” 

 Rather pink in the face, she closed the door and departed. Harry slumped back in his seat and groaned. 

"If she can't accept you with stinksap on your face, she isn't worth it." I said, trying to sound serious, but I started to splutter with laughter. Harry shot me a very dark look.

“Never mind,” said Ginny bracingly. “Look, we can easily get rid of all this.” She pulled out her wand. “Scourgify!” 

 The Stinksap vanished. 

 “Sorry,” said Neville again, in a small voice. 

 Ron and Hermione did not turn up for nearly an hour, by which time the food trolley had already gone by. We had finished their pumpkin pasties and were busy swapping Chocolate Frog Cards when the compartment door slid open and they walked in, accompanied by Crookshanks and a shrilly hooting Pigwidgeon in his cage.

“I’m starving,” said Ron as a way of a greeting, stowing Pigwidgeon next to Hedwig, grabbing a Chocolate Frog from Harry and throwing himself into the seat next to him.

He knocked me onto the floor, so I got up and sat next to Luna. Nobody else was sitting next to her, which made me feel a bit sad. Sure, she was eccentric--but she was there. She should be at least noticed.

“Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each house,” said Hermione, looking thoroughly disgruntled as she took her seat. “Boy and girl from each.” 

 “And guess who’s a Slytherin prefect?” said Ron, still with his eyes closed. 

 “Malfoy,” replied Harry at once.

"Course." Ron replied.

I made a surprised face. "Huh. I never saw Draco as the type to be prefect."

“And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson,” said Hermione viciously. “How she got to be a prefect when she’s thicker than a concussed troll…” 

"Let's just hope she doesn't try to snog Draco during duties, or I'll have to hex her." I muttered darkly.

 “Who’s Hufflepuff?” Harry asked. 

 “Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott,” said Ron thickly. 

 “And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw,” said Hermione. 

 “You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil,” said a vague voice. 

 Everyone turned to look at Luna Lovegood, who was gazing unblinkingly at Ron over the top of The Quibbler. He swallowed his mouthful of Frog. 

 “Yeah, I know I did,” he said, looking mildly surprised. 

 “She didn’t enjoy it very much,” Luna informed him. “She doesn’t think you treated her very well, because you wouldn’t dance with her. I don’t think I’d have minded,” she added thoughtfully, “I don’t like dancing very much.” 

"Me neither, it's not that fun." I told Luna. She didn't respond, she just retreated behind her magazine again.

 Ron stared at the cover with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds, then looked around at Ginny for some kind of explanation, but Ginny had stuffed her knuckles in her mouth to stop herself giggling. Ron shook his head, bemused, then checked his watch. 

 “We’re supposed to patrol the corridors every so often,” he told Harry and Neville, “and we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can’t wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something.” 

 “You’re not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!” said Hermione sharply. 

 “Yeah, right, because Malfoy won’t abuse it at all,” said Ron sarcastically. “So you’re going to descend to his level?” 

“No, I’m just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine.” 

"Yes, because that's so mature." I said, rolling my eyes. "Boys."

 “I’ll make Goyle do lines, it’ll kill him, he hates writing,” said Ron happily. He lowered his voice to Goyle’s low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimed writing in midair. “I… must… not… look… like… a… baboon’s… backside.” 

 Everyone laughed, but nobody laughed harder than Luna Lovegood. She let out a scream of mirth that caused Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings indignantly and Crookshanks to leap up into the luggage rack, hissing.

Luna laughed so hard her magazine slipped out of her grasp, slid down her legs and on to the floor. 

 “That was funny!” 

 Her prominent eyes swam with tears as she gasped for breath, staring at Ron. Utterly nonplussed, he looked around at the us, as we were now laughing at the expression on Ron’s face.

“Are you taking the mickey?” said Ron, frowning at her. 

 “Baboon’s… backside!” she choked, holding her ribs. 

 Everyone else was watching Luna laughing, but  I glanced at the magazine on the floor, going to pick it up. Something on the cover made me reach for it quicker.

 Upside-down it had been hard to tell what the picture on the front was, but Harry now realized it was a fairly bad cartoon of Cornelius Fudge; I only recognized him because of the lime-green bowler hat.

One of Fudge’s hands was clenched around a bag of gold; the other hand was throttling a goblin. The cartoon was captioned: How Far Will Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts? 

 Beneath this were listed the titles of other articles inside the magazine. 

 Corruption in the Quidditch League: 

 How the Tornados are Taking Control 

 Secrets of the Ancient Runes Revealed 

 Sirius Black: Villain or Victim? 

 “Can I have a look at this?” I asked Luna eagerly. 

 She nodded, still gazing at Ron, breathless with laughter. I opened the magazine and scanned the index.

This, too, was illustrated by a rather bad cartoon; in fact, I would not have known it was supposed to be Sirius if it hadn’t been captioned. Sirius was standing on a pile of human bones with his wand out. The headline on the article said: 

 SIRIUS - BLACK AS HE’S PAINTED? 

 Notorious mass murderer or innocent singing sensation? 

I had to read this first sentence several times before I was convinced that I had not misunderstood it. Since when had Sirius been a singing sensation? 

 For fourteen years Sirius Black has been believed guilty of the mass murder of twelve innocent Muggles and one wizard. Black’s audacious escape from Azkaban two years ago has led to the widest manhunt ever conducted by the Ministry of Magic. None of us has ever questioned that he deserves to be recaptured and handed back to the Dementors. 

 BUT DOES HE? 

 Startling new evidence has recently come to light that Sirius Black may not have committed the crimes for which he was sent to Azkaban. In fact, says Doris Purkiss, of 18 Acanthia Way, Little Norton, Black may not even have been present at the killings. 

 “What people don’t realize is that Sirius Black is a false name,” says Mrs. Purkiss. “The man people believe to be Sirius Black is actually Stubby Boardman, lead singer of popular singing group The Hobgoblins, who retired fro m public life after being struck on the ear by a turnip at a concert in Little Norton Church Hall nearly fifteen years ago. I recognized him the moment I saw his picture in the paper. Now, Stubby couldn’t possibly have committed those crimes, because on the day in question he happened to be enjoying a romantic candlelit dinner with me. I have written to the Minister for Magic and am expecting him to give Stubby, alias - Sirius, a full pardon any day now.” 

 I finished reading and stared at the page in disbelief. Perhaps it was a joke, I thought, perhaps the magazine often printed spoof Hems. He flicked back a few pages and found the piece on Fudge. 

It was just as un-realistic, so I decided to flick through the magazine.Pausing every few pages, I read: an accusation that the Tutshill Tornados were winning the Quidditch League by a combination of blackmail, illegal broom-tampering and torture; an interview with a wizard who claimed to have flown to the moon on a Cleansweep Six and brought back a bag of moon frogs to prove it; and an article on ancient runes which at least explained why Luna had been reading The Quibbler upside-down.

According to the magazine, if you turned the runes on their heads they revealed a spell to make your enemy’s ears turn into kumquats. In fact, compared to the rest of the articles in The Quibbler, the suggestion that Sirius might really be the lead singer of The Hobgoblins was quite sensible. 

It was quite a quirky magazine, and it was surely something you'd read if you didn't take the things in there seriously.

 “Anything good in there?” asked Ron as I closed the magazine. 

 “Of course not,” said Hermione scathingly, before I could answer. “The Quibbler’s rubbish, everyone knows that.” 

 “Excuse me,” said Luna; her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. “My father’s the editor.” 

 “I - oh,” said Hermione, looking embarrassed. “Well, it’s got some interesting… I mean, it’s quite…” 

 “I’ll have it back, thank you,” said Luna coldly, and lshe snatched it out of my hands. Riffling through it to page fifty-seven, she turned it resolutely upside-down again and disappeared behind it, just as the compartment door opened for the third time. 

To nobody's surprise, it was Draco, Crabbe and Goyle.

 “What?” Harry said aggressively, before Draco could open his mouth. 

 “Manners, Potter, or I’ll have to give you a detention,” drawled Draco. “You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.” 

 “Yeah,” said Harry, “but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone.” 

 Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Neville laughed. Draco's lip curled. “Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?” he asked. 

"Oh for God's sake Draco, do you always have to start something?" I said irritably. While we did have to keep up the pretense of being apart, he was darn infuriating in front of my friends.

 Draco's eyes flickered to mine, and a ghost of a smile appeared for a second. But then it was gone, and his trademark smirk was back.

“I seem to have touched a nerve,” said Draco, smirking. “Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I’ll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line.” 

 “Get out!” said Hermione, standing up. 

 Sniggering, Draco gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, with Crabbe and Goyle lumbering along in his wake. Hermione slammed the compartment door behind them.

I felt slightly nervous. What had Draco meant? Was it a play on words, or did he know that the dog was Sirius?

 “Chuck us another Frog,” said Ron, who had clearly noticed nothing. 

I could not talk freely in front of Neville and Luna. I exchanged a nervous look with Hermione, then stared out of the window. 

 I had thought Sirius coming with us to the station was a bit of a laugh, but suddenly it seemed reckless, if not downright dangerous… Hermione had been right… Sirius should not have come. 

What if Mr. Malfoy had noticed the black dog and told Draco? What if he had deduced that the Weasleys, Lupin, Tonks and Moody knew where Sirius was hiding? Or had Draco’s use of the word dogging been a coincidence? 

 Rain spattered the windows in a half-hearted way, then the sun put in a feeble appearance before clouds drifted over it once more. When darkness fell and lamps came on inside the carriages, Luna rolled up The Quibbler, put it carefully away in her bag and took to staring at everyone in the compartment instead. 

“We’d better change,” said Hermione at last, and all of us opened their trunks with difficulty and pulled on school robes. Hermione and Ron pinned their prefect badges carefully to their chests. I saw Ron checking his reflection in the black window. 

 "Are you checking yourself out Ron?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course not." Ron snorted, but he was slightly pink/

At last, the train began to slow down and they heard the usual racket up and down it as everybody scrambled to get their luggage and pets assembled, ready to get off. As Ron and Hermione were supposed to supervise all this, they disappeared from the carriage again, leaving us to watch the animals.

 “I’ll carry that owl, if you like, “ said Luna to Harry, reaching out for Pigwidgeon as Neville stowed Trevor carefully in an inside pocket. 

 “Oh - er - thanks, “ said Harry, handing her the cage and hoisting Hedwig’s more securely into his arms. 

We shuffled out of the compartment feeling the first sting of the night air on their faces as wejoined the crowd in the corridor. Slowly, we moved towards the doors. I could smell the pine trees that lined the path down to the lake. I stepped down on to the platform and looked around, listening for the familiar call of “firs’-years over ‘ere… firs’-years…” 

 But it did not come. Instead, a quite different voice, a brisk female one, was calling out, “First years line up over here, please! All first-years to me!” 

 A lantern came swinging towards us and by its light I saw the prominent chin and severe haircut of Professor Grubbly-Plank, the witch who had taken over Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures lessons for a while the previous year. 

 “Where’s Hagrid?” Harry said.

 “I don’t know,” said Ginny, “but we’d better get out of the way, we’re blocking the door.” 

 “Oh, yeah…” 

Ginny became separated from us as we moved off along the platform and out through the station. He looked around for Ron or Hermione--or Gennie, Cole or Alia, wanting to know what they thought about the reappearance of Professor Grubbly-Plank. But none of them were in sight.

 Here stood the hundred or so horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the castle. I staggered backwards.

The coaches were no longer horseless. There were creatures standing between the carriage shafts. If I had had to give them a name, I supposed they would be horses, though there was something reptilian about them, too.

They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither - vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats. 

 “Where’s Pig?” said Ron’s voice, right behind Harry. 

 “That Luna girl was carrying him,” I replied to Ron.

Harry turned quickly to Ron, clearly excited to ask of Ron's opinion. "Where do you think--"

 “- Hagrid is? I dunno,” said Ron, sounding worried. “He’d better be okay…” 

 A short distance away, Draco, followed by a small gang of cronies including Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, was pushing some timid-looking second-years out of the way so that he and his friends could get a coach to themselves.

I shook my head. Why did he have to act so brutish towards others and my friends? Why couldn't he just be the sweet and sarcastic boy I loved to everybody?

Seconds later, Hermione emerged panting from the crowd. 

 “Malfoy was being absolutely foul to a first-year back there. I swear I’m going to report him, he’s only had his badge three minutes and he’s using it to bully people worse than ever… where’s Crookshanks?” 

 “Ginny’s got him,” said Harry. “There she is…” Ginny had just emerged from the crowd, clutching a squirming Crookshanks. 

 “Thanks,” said Hermione, relieving Ginny of the cat. “Come on, let’s get a carriage together before they all fill up… I saw the others, they're with Fred and George...” 

 “I haven’t got Pig yet!” Ron said, but Hermione was already heading off towards the nearest unoccupied coach. I remained behind with Ron and Harry.

 “What are those things, d’you reckon?” he asked Ron, nodding at the horrible horses as the other students surged past them. 

 “What things?” 

 “Those horse -” 

 Luna appeared holding Pigwidgeon’s cage in her arms; the tiny owl was twittering excitedly as usual.  

“Here you are,” she said. “He’s a sweet little owl, isn’t he?” 

 “Er… yeah… he’s all right,” said Ron gruffly. “Well, come on then, let’s get in… what were you saying, Harry?” 

 “I was saying, what are those horse things?” Harry said, as he, Ron and Luna made for the carriage in which Hermione and Ginny were already sitting. 

 “What horse things?” 

 “The horse things pulling the carriages!” I said impaitently. Ron just gave me an odd look.

 “What are you talking about?” 

 “I’m talking about - look!” I grabbed Ron’s arm and wheeled him about so that he was face to face with the winged horse. Ron stared straight at it for a second, then looked back at us.

 “What am I supposed to be looking at?” 

 “At the - there, between the shafts! Harnessed to the coach! It’s right there in front -” 

 But as Ron continued to look bemused, a strange thought occurred to me.

 “Can’t… can’t you see them?” 

 “See what?” 

 “Can’t you see what’s pulling the carriages?” 

 Ron looked seriously alarmed now. 

 “Are you feeling all right, Harry?” 

 “I… yeah…” 

 Harry felt utterly bewildered. The horse was there in front of him,unless Ron was faking - and it was a very feeble joke if he was - Ron could not see it at all. 

Was it a side-effect from my pills? But no, Harry could see them as well--and as far as as I was aware, he wasn't taking anti-depressants.

 “Shall we get in, then?” said Ron uncertainly, looking at us as though worried about us.

 “Yeah,” said Harry. “Yeah, go on…” 

 “It’s all right,” said a dreamy voice from beside me as Ron vanished into the coach’s dark interior. “You’re not going mad or anything. I can see them, too.” 

 “Can you?” said Harry desperately, turning to Luna. He could see the bat-winged horses reflected in her wide silvery eyes. 

 “Oh, yes,” said Luna, “I’ve been able to see them ever since my first day here. They’ve always pulled the carriages. Don’t worry. You’re just as sane as I am” 

Smiling faintly, she climbed into the musty interior of the carriage after Ron. It looked like the three of us were mental after all.

- - - - - 

A/N YES I'M ON AN UPDATE SPREE. Consider this an 'i'm sorry' for not uploading. I like Lacey and George together, and the pairing was accidental. whoops. There's 37 chapters in this all together now (including epilouge) so yeah.