Hermione Granger and the Philosopher's Stone

The Journey from Platform Nine and Three Quarters

The last month of the summer holiday passed too slowly for Hermione's liking.  She knew she should have been savouring the time she had left with her family and friends, as it would be the last time she saw them until christmas, but all she wanted was to be on the train and going to Hogwarts.  She had practiced several simple spells and had found them, to her surprise, relatively easy.  She felt she understood them - and she had always been a fast learner.  By now, she had of course read most of her school books, and was wishing she'd picked up more than she did for back-ground reading from Flourish and Blotts before they left London and returned home.  But she'd heard that the Hogwarts library was huge, so at least she wouldn't run out of things to read whilst at school.  Professor Burbage hadn't been able to stay long.  She told them that their were several 'muggle borns' attending this year, and she had to do orientation for all of them.  Any other wizard, she said with a chuckle, would probably turn up in a purple pin-striped suit and knickerbockers on their heads.  And so, she had merely stayed long enough to explain the ticket barrier to Hermione and to express upon her the importance of keeping the wizarding world a secret, before she took her leave.

The Granger's had put a calender, at Hermione's request, up on the fridge, and everyday she would tick of another square, counting down to September the first.  It was decdided that they would all go down to London a night early - Hermione and her parents - so as to not have so much of a rush to catch the 11 o'clock train to Hogwarts.  Hermione had found it odd that the school transport was a train.  It just seemed so...normal.   She had expected Flying Carpets or something.  But, she reasoned, it probably was the easiest way for hundreds of magical school children to travel un-noticed.  Besides, Flying Carpets were illegal - as she'd found out in 'A history of Magical transportation (containing inside an exclusive guide to the magical theory behind the floo network)'.  As dull as that sounds, she'd found it immensely enjoyable, and was looking forward to trying out the flying brooms - although she doubted she'd be very good.  She wasn't usually very good at anything that she couldn't learn from a good book.

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On the night of the 31st of August, Hermione and her parents travelled again up to London, Hermione bouncing in her seat the whole way.  As they drove, she took in everything around her - the cars, the crowds of people wearing 'ordinary' clothes, the busy shops selling electrical equipment - and found that it all felt alien to her.  She wanted flying cars, she wanted robes; and she wanted magic.  She held her wand in front of her, careful to keep it out of sight of the window, shooting sparks out of it occasionaly.  It was the first spell that she had learnt and she was getting very good at it.

"It's looking good, Hermione dear" her Mum called from the front, watching her in the rear-view mirror.  Hermione just nodded, secretly proud.

"Hermione!  Put away your wand and go and brush your teeth!  I want  you in bed early tonight."  Hermione sighed at her Dad's yell from the room next door.  She had been enjoying the chance to fully explore her wands potential (living in a muggle environment meant that she hadnt been able to attempt anything too dramatic for fear of alerting the neighbours), but her parents had other ideas.  Her mum entered the room through the door that connected Hermione's hotel room, to the adjoining room her parents had rented.

The leaky cauldron was old fashioned, and a little shabby, but the landlord seemed to be nice, and, frankly, the whole place fascinated Hermione.  Everything reeked of magic - from the toilets that flushed themselves to the barstools that complained when you sat on them.  Hermione was a little dissapointed to only have spent one night there.

"Hermione, honey, stop daydreaming."  Her mum rested a hand lightly on her shoulder.  "Now have you got everything ready for tomorrow?  Everything packed?  Your sure you've got all your books, uniform and all the laundry I did.  And you've definitely got your toothbrush...?"