Dawn Rivera

Nineteen Years Later

Autumn seems to arrive suddenly this year. The morning of the first of September is crisp and golden as an apple, and as the little family bob across the rumbling road towards the great, sooty station, the fumes of car exhausts and the breath of pedestrians sparkle like cobwebs in the cold air. Two large cages rattle on top of the laden trolleys the parents are pushing; the owls inside them hoot indignantly, and the blond girl and boy trail tearfully behind their brothers, clutching their mother's arms.

"It won't be long, and you'll be going too," I tell them.

"Two years," sniffs Harold. "I want to go now!"

The commenters stars curiously at the owls as the family weaves its way towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Danny's voice drifts back to me over the surrounding clamour; my sons have resumed the argument they started in the car.

"I won't! I won't be in Slytherin!"

"Dudley, give it a rest!" Neville says.

"I only said he might be," says Dudley, grinning at his younger brother. "There's nothing wrong with that. He might be in Slyth - "

But Dudley catches his father's eye and falls silent. The six Longbottoms approach the barrier. With a slightly cocky look over his shoulder at his younger brother, Dudley takes the trolley from me and breaks into a run. A moment later, he has vanished.

"You'll write to me, won't you?" Danny asks his parents immediately, capitalising on the momentary absence of his brother.

"Every day, if you want us to," says Neville.

"Not every day," says Danny quickly. "Dudley says most people only get letters from home about once a month."

"We wrote to Dudley three times a week last year," says Neville.

"And you don't want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts," I put in. "He likes a laugh, your brother."

Side by side, we push the second trolley forwards, gathering speed. As we reach the barrier, Danny winces, but no collision comes. Instead, we energy onto platform nine and three-quarters, which is obscured by thick, white steam that is pouring from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. Indistinct figures are swarming through the mist, into which Dudley has already disappeared.

"Where are they?" asks Danny anxiously, peering at the hazy forms we pass as we make our way down the platform.

"We'll find them," says Neville reassuringly.

But the vapour is dense, and it is difficult to make out anybody's faces. Detached from their owners, voices sound unnaturally loud. I think I hear Percy discoursing loudly on broomstick regulations, and am quite glad of the excuse not to stop and say hello...

"I think that's them, Dan," says Neville suddenly.

A group of ten people emerge from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only come into focus when Neville, Harold, Petunia, Danny and I have drawn right up to them.

"Hi," says Danny, sounding immensely relieved.

Ted, Albus, James and Margerie, who are already wearing their brand new Hogwarts robes, beam at him.

"Parked all right, then?" Misty asks me. "I did. Lavender didn't believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you? She thought I'd have to Confund the examiner."

"No, I didn't," says Lavender. "I had complete faith in you."

"As a matter of fact, I did Confund him," Misty whispers to me, as together we lift Danny's trunk and owl on to the train. "I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and let's face it, I can use a Supersensory Charm for that."