Ivy Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter Eight

It was about a month later, September 1st. The day that Hermione and Ivy would get on the Hogwarts Express and actually go to Hogwarts. They were at the train station with their parents. Professor Sprout was supposed to be there, but she had sent them a letter by owl explaining that she couldn't make it. Enclosed were Ivy and Hermione's tickets which said that the train was on platform 9 3/4.

"Platform 9 3/4? Does that even exist?" Ivy stared at her ticket.

"No?" Hermione seemed confused.

"Well, we have some friends we have to talk to, so we can't walk you to the train," Evelyn Granger sighed.

"Bye!" Ivy exclaimed a little too eagerly.

Myles and Evelyn kissed their daughters before leaving and joining the mob of people.

"Let's look between platforms 9 and 10, maybe we'll find it," Hermione suggested, grabbing Ivy's arm fireman style.

Ivy was dragged along through the station, struggling to not get severed from Hermione. They quickly approached platforms 9 and 10, and were confused when there was nothing in between.

"Where's the platform?" Ivy asked, worried. She glanced around, looking for something—anything that would help find it. She saw a boy with a cart similar to the one Ivy and Hermione were sharing. He was talking to one of the workers, who seemed confused. When she looked closer she gasped. It was Harry. He walked away from the worker, appearing disappointed, but his face brightened when he saw her.

"Ivy!" he ran over with his cart. Hermione turned around at the noise, and wheeled her and Ivy's cart over. 

"Harry," Ivy smiled, Hermione giving a small, eager wave. "Do you know how we get onto the platform?"

"No, I asked some worker, and he acted like I was trying to prank him or something," Harry frowned slightly.

"—packed with muggles, of course."

The three eleven-year-olds turned, trying to figure out who the voice had come from. They noticed a large ginger family: a mother, four sons—the youngest about their age—and a daughter, just a little younger than they were.

"Muggles: like the Dursleys," Harry muttered, following the ginger family.

Ivy followed him, and Hermione followed her, bitterly muttering something Ivy couldn't hear.

They stopped, watching the ginger family. The oldest son was holding his cart, and he ran at platform nine, and went through the wall. 

"Uhhhhhhh..." Ivy's voice trailed off in confusion.

The ginger mother noticed them—and the two owls—and smiled. "Hogwarts, I presume. Would you like to know how to get on the platform?"

"Yes, please," Harry answered as politely as he could.

"Fred and George," the woman pointed to the ginger twins in turn, "Will demonstrate. In that order."

"He's not Fred: I am!"

"Honestly woman, call yourself our mother."

"Sorry, George, you go first."

George was about to run before he stopped. "Only joking: I am Fred." With that he ran through the wall, Fred following soon after.

"So, all you have to do is walk straight at that wall. Ron can go after you three," she gestured to the remaining son. "Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. And—oh I'm so rude, I didn't introduce myself—I'm Molly Weasley, Mrs. Weasley to you."

Harry glanced at Ivy and Hermione, who backed away, allowing him to go first. He took a deep breath and sprinted at the wall, going through it like the three boys before him. Ivy followed him, and Hermione followed her. Ivy waited for the wall to come as she sprinted, but it never did. Suddenly she was somewhere else, with only one train: The Hogwarts Express.

Hermione came out behind her, and the both of them looked around in awe. There were a ton of people bustling around, some in muggle clothes and some not.

Ivy saw Harry talking to the ginger twins, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the last ginger son—Ron—come through the wall. Mrs. Weasley and his younger sister followed almost immediately. Ivy turned her gaze back to Harry, but he was getting on the train. The twins were eagerly running to their mother.

"Mum, do you know who that was?" one asked.

"It was Harry Potter!" the other answered.

"Ooh, ooh Mum can I go see him?" the small ginger girl asked.

"No, Ginny dear, he's not something you just gawk at in a zoo. Oh, that explains why he was alone. But the other two..." her voice trailed off.

"Muggleborn," Hermione explained.

"Oh, so your parents just brought you to the station?"

"Yeah. Weren't sure if they could come, and they had business, so they just left us here," Ivy finished her sentence quickly and almost leaped onto the train; the cart was being taken care of by a worker from the train.

"Well, I'll see you end of term, Ivy, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley called as Hermione got on the train.

Ivy and Hermione decided to separate: make new friends and such. Ivy searched the compartments, until she found Harry's, which was empty except for him and Ron, the ginger boy. 

She opened the door, "Can I sit with you guys? Practically all the others are full."

"Sure," Harry offered. "This is Ivy, I met her an Diagon Alley. Where's your sister, Herm-something?"

"Hermione. We decided to find our own compartments."

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron held out a hand for Ivy to shake, which she did.

"Harry, why did Ron's brothers seem so interested in you—like you were a god or something?"

"I dunno really, everyone's acting like I'm so famous because I got rid of this evil guy named," Harry lowered his voice. "Voldemort—You-Know-Who as they call him—when I was one, and I had some sister who died or something I dunno. Her name was Ivy too, now that I'm thinking about it..."

"Coincidence," Ivy muttered.

"Can you show me that scar?" Ron asked eagerly. Ivy noticed that he had a lot of freckles and a very pink face, like the rest of his family.

Harry lifted his bangs away to reveal a lightning bolt scar. Ivy gasped. She checked. Because on the back of her right hand, there lay the exact same scar.