What happens when a mysterious woman with purple hair appears in the year 1978 and reads out a series of books called Harry Potter to the young students?
Read this and find out how Hope changed the course of history.
Dolent - Full of sorrow
All rig...
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"Chapter six, The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."
"Yes!" James shouted. "He's finally off to Hogwarts!"
Harry's last month with the Dursleys wasn't fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of Harry he wouldn't stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything, or shout at him — in fact, they didn't speak to him at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Harry in it were empty. Although this was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while.
Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic. His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Petunia didn't come in to vacuum anymore, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, Harry ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first.
On the last day of August he thought he'd better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King's Cross station the next day, so he went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room.
"Er — Uncle Vernon?"
Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening.
"Er — I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to — to go to Hogwarts."
Uncle Vernon grunted again.
"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?"
Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes.
"Thank you."
He was about to go back upstairs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.
"Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"
Sirius and James turned to each other with large grins.
"You will not be charming a carpet to fly, Mr. Black, Mr. Potter!" McGonagall told them.
Harry didn't say anything.
"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 three-quarters at eleven o'clock," he read.
