"Where is this school, anyway?"
"I don't know," said Harry, realizing this for the first
time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out
of his pocket.
"I just take the train from platform nine and threequarters at eleven o’clock," he read.
His aunt and uncle stared.
"Platform what?"
"Nine and three-quarters."
"Don't talk rubbish," said Uncle Vernon. "There is no
platform nine and three-quarters."
"It's on my ticket."
It didn’t come... he kept on running... he opened
his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to
a platform packed with people. A sign overhead
said Hogwarts Express, eleven O’clock. Harry
looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron
archway where the barrier had been, with the
words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it, He
had done it.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.
Harry nodded. "Oh -well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s
jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got -- you know..."
He pointed at Harry’s forehead. Harry pulled back his bangs to show the
lightning scar. Ron stared.
"So that’s where You-Know-Who "Yes," said Harry, "but I can’t remember
it."
"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.
"Well -- I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."
"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as
though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly
out of the window again.
"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found Ron just as
interesting as Ron found him.
"Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then." She sat down.
Ron looked taken aback. "Er -- all right."
He cleared his throat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn
this stupid, fat rat yellow."
He waved his wand, but nothing happened.
Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.
"Are you sure that’s a real spell?" said the girl.
"Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few
simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for
me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever
such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was
ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best
school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard - I’ve
learned all our course books by heart, of course, I
just hope it will be enough --
I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you.
"Do either of you know what house you’ll be
in? I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m
in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear
Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose
Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad.... Anyway,
we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad.
You two had better change, you know, I
expect we’ll be there soon.
Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad,
ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in
his head
---William Shakespeare
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffis are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you’ve a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You’ll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don’t be afraid!
And don’t get in a flap!
You’re in safe hands (though I have none)
For I’m a Thinking Cap!
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