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<s> She slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside. Harry and Neville followed. 'Hi, Luna.' said Ginny, 'is it OK if we take these seats?'</s>	slid the door open and pulled her trunk inside. Harry and Neville followed. 'Hi, Luna.' said Ginny, 'is it OK if we take these seats?'</s>
<s> 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. Harry knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave oil 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 Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded. Thanks,' said Ginny, smiling at her. Harry and Neville stowed the three trunks and Hedwig's cage 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 now wished he hadn't. '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 Potter,' she added. 'I know I am,' said Harry. Neville chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes on him instead. 'And I don't know who you are.'</s>	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. Harry knew at once why Neville had chosen to pass this compartment by. The girl gave oil 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 Neville and came to rest on Harry. She nodded. Thanks,' said Ginny, smiling at her. Harry and Neville stowed the three trunks and Hedwig's cage 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 now wished he hadn't. '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 Potter,' she added. 'I know I am,' said Harry. Neville chuckled. Luna turned her pale eyes on him instead. 'And I don't know who you are.'</s>
<s> '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.'</s>	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.'</s>
<s> '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. 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?' said Harry, remembering the marble-like device Neville's grandmother had sent him in an effort to improve his abysmal memory. 'No,' said Neville. 'I could do with one, though, I lost the old one ages ago... no, look at this...'</s>	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. 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?' said Harry, remembering the marble-like device Neville's grandmother had sent him in an effort to improve his abysmal memory. 'No,' said Neville. 'I could do with one, though, I lost the old one ages ago... no, look at this...'</s>
<s> 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. Harry 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.'</s>	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. Harry 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.'</s>
<s> Harry knew that Neville's favourite subject was Herbology but for the life of him he could not see what he would want with this stunted little plant. 'Does it - er - do anything?' he asked. 'Loads of stuff!' said Neville proudly. 'It's got an amazing defensive mechanism. Here, hold Trevor for me...'</s>	knew that Neville's favourite subject was Herbology but for the life of him he could not see what he would want with this stunted little plant. 'Does it - er - do anything?' he asked. 'Loads of stuff!' said Neville proudly. 'It's got an amazing defensive mechanism. Here, hold Trevor for me...'</s>
<s> He dumped the toad into Harry's 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</s>	dumped the toad into Harry's 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</s>
<s> doing. Neville held the Mimbulus mimblctonia up to 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, but Harry, whose hands had been busy preventing Trevor's escape, received a faceful. It smelled like rancid manure. 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 realise 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. 'Urn... bad time?'</s>	. Neville held the Mimbulus mimblctonia up to 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, but Harry, whose hands had been busy preventing Trevor's escape, received a faceful. It smelled like rancid manure. 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 realise 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. 'Urn... bad time?'</s>
<s> Harry wiped the lenses of his glasses with his Trevor-free hand. A very pretty girl with long, shiny black hair was standing in the doorway smiling at him: Cho Chang, the Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. 'Oh... hi,' said Harry blankly. 'Um...' said Cho. 'Well... just thought I'd say hello... bye then.'</s>	wiped the lenses of his glasses with his Trevor-free hand. A very pretty girl with long, shiny black hair was standing in the doorway smiling at him: Cho Chang, the Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. 'Oh... hi,' said Harry blankly. 'Um...' said Cho. 'Well... just thought I'd say hello... bye then.'</s>
<s> Rather pink in the face, she closed the door and departed. Harry slumped back in his seat and groaned. He would have liked Cho to discover him sitting with a group of very cool people laughing their heads off at a joke he had just told; he would not have chosen to be sitting with Neville and Loony Lovegood, clutching a toad and dripping in Stinksap. 'Never mind,' said Ginny bracingly. 'Look, we can easily get rid of all this.' She pulled out her wand. 'Scourgify!'</s>	ather pink in the face, she closed the door and departed. Harry slumped back in his seat and groaned. He would have liked Cho to discover him sitting with a group of very cool people laughing their heads off at a joke he had just told; he would not have chosen to be sitting with Neville and Loony Lovegood, clutching a toad and dripping in Stinksap. 'Never mind,' said Ginny bracingly. 'Look, we can easily get rid of all this.' She pulled out her wand. 'Scourgify!'</s>
<s> The Stinksap vanished. 'Sorry.' said Neville again, in a small voice. Harry, Ginny and Neville 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. He ripped open the wrapper, bit off the frog's head and leaned back with his eyes closed as though he had had a very exhausting morning. 'Malfoy,' replied Harry at once, certain his worst fear would be confirmed. 'How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll... 'Who are Hufflepuff's?' Harry asked. 'You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil,' said a vague voice. 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.'</s>	Stinksap vanished. 'Sorry.' said Neville again, in a small voice. Harry, Ginny and Neville 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. He ripped open the wrapper, bit off the frog's head and leaned back with his eyes closed as though he had had a very exhausting morning. 'Malfoy,' replied Harry at once, certain his worst fear would be confirmed. 'How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll... 'Who are Hufflepuff's?' Harry asked. 'You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil,' said a vague voice. 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.'</s>
<s> She retreated behind The Quibbler again. '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... 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.'</s>	retreated behind The Quibbler again. '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... 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.'</s>
<s> 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. 'Baboon's... backside!' she choked, holding her ribs. Everyone else was watching Luna laughing, but Harry, glancing at the magazine on the floor, noticed something that made him dive for it. Upside-down it had been hard to tell what the picture on the front was, but Harry now realised i! was a fairly bad cartoon of Cornelius Fudge; Harry only recognised him because of the lime-green bowler hat. One of Fudges 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:</s>	one 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. 'Baboon's... backside!' she choked, holding her ribs. Everyone else was watching Luna laughing, but Harry, glancing at the magazine on the floor, noticed something that made him dive for it. Upside-down it had been hard to tell what the picture on the front was, but Harry now realised i! was a fairly bad cartoon of Cornelius Fudge; Harry only recognised him because of the lime-green bowler hat. One of Fudges 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:</s>
<s> How the Tornados are Taking Control</s>	the Tornados are Taking Control</s>
<s> Secrets of the Ancient Runes Revealed</s>	rets of the Ancient Runes Revealed</s>
<s> Sirius Black: Villain or Victim? 'Can I have a look at this?' Harry asked Luna eagerly. Harry opened the magazine and scanned the index. He found the page, and turned excitedly to the article. This, too, was illustrated by a rather bad cartoon; in fact, Harry 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:</s>	rius Black: Villain or Victim? 'Can I have a look at this?' Harry asked Luna eagerly. Harry opened the magazine and scanned the index. He found the page, and turned excitedly to the article. This, too, was illustrated by a rather bad cartoon; in fact, Harry 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:</s>
<s> SIRIUS - BLACK AS HE'S PAINTED? Notorious mass murderer or innocent singing sensation? Harry had to read this first sentence several times before he was convinced that he 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 Azhaban. 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 realise 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 from public life after being struck on the ear by a turnip at a concert in Little Norton Church Hall nearly fifteen years ago. I recognised 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.'</s>	RIUS - BLACK AS HE'S PAINTED? Notorious mass murderer or innocent singing sensation? Harry had to read this first sentence several times before he was convinced that he 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 Azhaban. 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 realise 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 from public life after being struck on the ear by a turnip at a concert in Little Norton Church Hall nearly fifteen years ago. I recognised 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.'</s>
<s> Harry finished reading and stared at the page in disbelief. Perhaps it was a joke, he thought, perhaps the magazine often printed spoof items. He flicked back a few pages and found the piece on Fudge. Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, denied that he had any plans to take over the running of the Wizarding Bank, Gringotts, when he was elected Minister for Magic jive years ago. Fudge has always insisted that he wants nothing more than to 'co-operate peacefully' with the guardians of our gold. BUT DOES HE? Sources close to the Minister have recently disclosed that Fudge's dearest ambition is to seize control of the goblin gold supplies and that he will not hesitate to use force if need be. 'It wouldn't be the first time, either,' said a Ministry insider. 'Cornelius "Goblin-Crusher" Fudge, that's what his friends call him. If you could hear him when he thinks no one's listening, oh, he's always talking about the goblins he's had done in; he's had them drowned, he's had them dropped off buildings, he's had them poisoned, he's had them cooked in pies...'</s>	finished reading and stared at the page in disbelief. Perhaps it was a joke, he thought, perhaps the magazine often printed spoof items. He flicked back a few pages and found the piece on Fudge. Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, denied that he had any plans to take over the running of the Wizarding Bank, Gringotts, when he was elected Minister for Magic jive years ago. Fudge has always insisted that he wants nothing more than to 'co-operate peacefully' with the guardians of our gold. BUT DOES HE? Sources close to the Minister have recently disclosed that Fudge's dearest ambition is to seize control of the goblin gold supplies and that he will not hesitate to use force if need be. 'It wouldn't be the first time, either,' said a Ministry insider. 'Cornelius "Goblin-Crusher" Fudge, that's what his friends call him. If you could hear him when he thinks no one's listening, oh, he's always talking about the goblins he's had done in; he's had them drowned, he's had them dropped off buildings, he's had them poisoned, he's had them cooked in pies...'</s>
<s> Harry did not read any further. Fudge might have many faults but Harry found it extremely hard to imagine him ordering goblins to be cooked in pies. He flicked through the rest of the magazine. Pausing every few pages, he 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. The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that.'</s>	did not read any further. Fudge might have many faults but Harry found it extremely hard to imagine him ordering goblins to be cooked in pies. He flicked through the rest of the magazine. Pausing every few pages, he 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. The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that.'</s>
<s> 'Excuse me,' said Luna; her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. 'Well... it's got some interesting... I mean, it's quite</s>	Excuse me,' said Luna; her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. 'Well... it's got some interesting... I mean, it's quite</s>
<s> 'I'll have it back, thank you,' said Luna coldly, and leaning forwards she snatched it out of Harry's 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. Harry looked around; he had expected this, but that did not make the sight of Draco Malfoy smirking at him from between his cronies Crabbe and Goyle any more enjoyable. 'What?' he said aggressively, before Malfoy could open his mouth. 'Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention,' drawled Malfoy, whose sleek blond hair and pointed chin were just like his father's. Malfoy's lip curled. 'I seem to have touched a nerve,' said Malfoy, smirking. Sniggering, Malfoy gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, with Crabbe and Goyle lumbering along in his wake. Harry could not talk freely in front of Neville and Luna. He had thought Sirius coming with him to the station was a bit of a laugh, but suddenly it seemed reckless, if not downright dangerous..... 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 Malfoy's use of the word 'dogging' been a coincidence? The weather remained undecided as they travelled further and farther north. 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 ii her bag and took to staring at everyone in the compartment instead. Harry was sitting with his forehead pressed against the train window, trying to get a first distant glimpse of Hogwarts, but it was a moonless night and the rain-streaked window was gr</s>	I'll have it back, thank you,' said Luna coldly, and leaning forwards she snatched it out of Harry's 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. Harry looked around; he had expected this, but that did not make the sight of Draco Malfoy smirking at him from between his cronies Crabbe and Goyle any more enjoyable. 'What?' he said aggressively, before Malfoy could open his mouth. 'Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention,' drawled Malfoy, whose sleek blond hair and pointed chin were just like his father's. Malfoy's lip curled. 'I seem to have touched a nerve,' said Malfoy, smirking. Sniggering, Malfoy gave Harry a last malicious look and departed, with Crabbe and Goyle lumbering along in his wake. Harry could not talk freely in front of Neville and Luna. He had thought Sirius coming with him to the station was a bit of a laugh, but suddenly it seemed reckless, if not downright dangerous..... 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 Malfoy's use of the word 'dogging' been a coincidence? The weather remained undecided as they travelled further and farther north. 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 ii her bag and took to staring at everyone in the compartment instead. Harry was sitting with his forehead pressed against the train window, trying to get a first distant glimpse of Hogwarts, but it was a moonless night and the rain-streaked window was gr</s>
<s>y. 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 on. '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. They shuffled out of the compartment feeling the first sting of the night air on their faces as they joined the crowd in the corridor. Slowly, they moved towards the doors. Harry could smell the pine trees that lined the path down to the lake. He stepped down on to the platform and looked around, listening for the familiar call of 'firs'-years over 'ere... firs'-years...'</s>	. 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 on. '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. They shuffled out of the compartment feeling the first sting of the night air on their faces as they joined the crowd in the corridor. Slowly, they moved towards the doors. Harry could smell the pine trees that lined the path down to the lake. He stepped down on to the platform and looked around, listening for the familiar call of 'firs'-years over 'ere... firs'-years...'</s>
<s> 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!'</s>	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!'</s>
<s> A lantern came swinging towards Harry and by its light he 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?' he said out loud. 'I don't know,' said Ginny, 'but we'd better get out of the way, we're blocking the door.'</s>	lantern came swinging towards Harry and by its light he 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?' he said out loud. 'I don't know,' said Ginny, 'but we'd better get out of the way, we're blocking the door.'</s>
<s> 'Oh, yeah...'</s>	Oh, yeah...'</s>
<s> Harry and Ginny became separated as they moved off along the platform and out through the station. Jostled by the crowd, Harry squinted through the darkness for a glimpse of Hagrid; he had to be here, Harry had been relying on it - seeing Hagrid again was one of the things he'd been looking forward to most. But there was no sign of him. He can't have left, Harry told himself as he shuffled slowly through a narrow doorway on to the road outside with the rest of the crowd. He's just got a cold or something... Here stood the hundred or so horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the castle. The coaches were no longer horseless. There were creatures standing between the carriage shafts. If he had had to give them a name, he supposed he would have called them 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. Standing still and quiet in the gathering gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister. Harry could not understand why the coaches were being pulled by these horrible horses when they v/ere quite capable of moving along by themselves. 'Where d'you reckon - '</s>	and Ginny became separated as they moved off along the platform and out through the station. Jostled by the crowd, Harry squinted through the darkness for a glimpse of Hagrid; he had to be here, Harry had been relying on it - seeing Hagrid again was one of the things he'd been looking forward to most. But there was no sign of him. He can't have left, Harry told himself as he shuffled slowly through a narrow doorway on to the road outside with the rest of the crowd. He's just got a cold or something... Here stood the hundred or so horseless stagecoaches that always took the students above first year up to the castle. The coaches were no longer horseless. There were creatures standing between the carriage shafts. If he had had to give them a name, he supposed he would have called them 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. Standing still and quiet in the gathering gloom, the creatures looked eerie and sinister. Harry could not understand why the coaches were being pulled by these horrible horses when they v/ere quite capable of moving along by themselves. 'Where d'you reckon - '</s>
<s>'- Hagrid is? 'He'd better be OK...'</s>	- Hagrid is? 'He'd better be OK...'</s>
<s> A short distance away, Draco Malfoy, 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. '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?'</s>	short distance away, Draco Malfoy, 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. '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?'</s>
<s> 'Ginny's got him,' said Harry. There she is.. 'Come on, let's get a carriage together before they all fill up.. 'What things?'</s>	Ginny's got him,' said Harry. There she is.. 'Come on, let's get a carriage together before they all fill up.. 'What things?'</s>
<s> 'Those horse - '</s>	Those horse - '</s>
<s> 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?'</s>	una 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?'</s>
<s> 'Er... yeah... 'Well, come on then, let's get in... 'What horse things?'</s>	Er... yeah... 'Well, come on then, let's get in... 'What horse things?'</s>
<s> 'The horse things pulling the carriages!' said Harry impatiently. They were, after all, about three feet from the nearest one; it was watching them with empty white eyes. 'What am I supposed to be looking at?'</s>	The horse things pulling the carriages!' said Harry impatiently. They were, after all, about three feet from the nearest one; it was watching them with empty white eyes. 'What am I supposed to be looking at?'</s>
<s> 'At the - there, between the shafts! Harnessed to the coach! 'Can't... 'Are you feeling all right, Harry?'</s>	At the - there, between the shafts! Harnessed to the coach! 'Can't... 'Are you feeling all right, Harry?'</s>
<s> 'I... yeah...'</s>	I... yeah...'</s>
<s> Harry felt utterly bewildered. The horse was there in front of him, gleaming solidly in the dim light issuing from the station windows behind them, vapour rising from its nostrils in the chilly night air. 'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Yeah, go on.. 'You're not going mad or anything. I can see them, too.'</s>	felt utterly bewildered. The horse was there in front of him, gleaming solidly in the dim light issuing from the station windows behind them, vapour rising from its nostrils in the chilly night air. 'Yeah,' said Harry. 'Yeah, go on.. 'You're not going mad or anything. I can see them, too.'</s>
<s> The Sorting Hat's</s>	Sorting Hat's</s>
<s> New Song</s>	Song</s>
<s> Harry did not want to tell the others that he and Luna were having the same hallucination, if that was what it was, so he said nothing more about the horses as he sat down inside the carriage and slammed the door behind him. Nevertheless, he could not help watching the silhouettes of the horses moving beyond the window. 'Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?' asked Ginny. 'What's she doing back here? She cleared her throat and quickly said, 'Erm... yes... he's very good.'</s>	did not want to tell the others that he and Luna were having the same hallucination, if that was what it was, so he said nothing more about the horses as he sat down inside the carriage and slammed the door behind him. Nevertheless, he could not help watching the silhouettes of the horses moving beyond the window. 'Did everyone see that Grubbly-Plank woman?' asked Ginny. 'What's she doing back here? She cleared her throat and quickly said, 'Erm... yes... he's very good.'</s>
<s> 'Well, we in Ravenclaw think he's a bit of a joke,' said Luna, unfazed. Rattling and swaying, the carriages moved in convoy up the road. When they passed between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars on either side of the gates to the school grounds, Harry leaned forwards to try and see whether there were any lights on in Hagrid's cabin by the Forbidden Forest, but the grounds were in complete darkness. Hogwarts Castle, however, loomed ever</s>	Well, we in Ravenclaw think he's a bit of a joke,' said Luna, unfazed. Rattling and swaying, the carriages moved in convoy up the road. When they passed between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars on either side of the gates to the school grounds, Harry leaned forwards to try and see whether there were any lights on in Hagrid's cabin by the Forbidden Forest, but the grounds were in complete darkness. Hogwarts Castle, however, loomed ever</s>