Who is Nyxzal Être? (Harry Potter Fan Fiction)

Back to Hogwarts.

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The end of the summer vacation came too quickly for my liking. I was looking forward to getting back to Hogwarts, but my month at the Burrow had been the happiest of my life. It was difficult not to feel jealous of Percy, the twins, Ron or Ginny when I thought of the life I had to live with over the summer and the sort of welcome I could expect the next time, if ever, I saw them.

On our last evening, Mrs. Weasly conjured up a sumptuous dinner that included all of our favorite things, ending with a mouth-watering treacle pudding. Fred and George rounded off the evening with a display of Filibuster fireworks; they filled the kitchen with red and blue stars that bounced from ceiling to wall for at least half an hour. Then it was time for a last mug of hot chocolate and bed. It took a long while to get started next morning. We were up at dawn, but somehow we still seemed to have a great deal to do. Mrs. Weasly dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills; people kept colliding on the stairs, half-dressed with bits of toast in their hands; and Mr. Weasly nearly broke his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying Ginny’s trunk to the car.

I couldn’t see how eight people, seven large trunks, two owls, a cat, and a rat were going to fit into one small Ford Anglia. I had thought, of course, without the special features that Mr. Weasly had added. “Not a word to Molly,” he whispered to Harry and I as he opened the trunk and showed us how it had been magically expanded so that the luggage fitted easily.

When at last we were all in the car, Mrs. Weasly glanced into the back seat, where Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and I were all sitting comfortably side by side, and said, “Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don’t they?” She and Ginny got into the front seat, which had been stretched so that it resembled a park bench. “I mean, you’d never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?”

Mr. Weasly started up the engine and we trundled out of the yard, Harry and I turned back for a last look at the house. We barely had time to wonder when we’d see it again when we were back. George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes after that, they skidded to a halt in the yard so that Fred could run in for his broomstick. We had almost reached the highway when Ginny shrieked that she’d left her diary. By the time she had clambered back into the car, we were running very late, and tempers were running high.

Mr. Weasly glanced at his watch and then at his wife. “Molly, dear —” “No, Arthur —–” “No one would see — this little button here is an Invisibility Booster I installed — that’d get us up in the air — then we fly above the clouds. We’d be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser —” “I said no, Arthur, not in broad daylight —”

We reached King’s Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasly dashed across the road to get trolleys for our trunks and we all hurried into the station. Which I had not caught the Hogwarts Express the previous year. The tricky part was getting onto platform nine and three-quarters, which wasn’t visible to the Muggle eye. What you had to do was walk through the solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. It didn’t hurt, but it had to be done carefully so that none of the Muggles noticed you vanishing. “Percy first,” said Mrs. Weasly, looking nervously at the clock overhead, which showed they had only five minutes to disappear casually through the barrier. Percy strode briskly forward and vanished. Mr. Weasly went next; Fred, George, and I followed.