Having spent such a long time as chick made things rather awkward for Harry, but it wasn’t the only thing he worried about. Whenever he didn’t wonder what Ginny had seen him do for her to be so embarrassed when he talked to her, he worried that the people the black rooster belonged to might want to eat it.
Harry wasn’t a vegetarian, but he really owed that rooster. And although he couldn’t remember his time as chick clearly, the rooster seemed vaguely familiar.
It must have taken good care of him, he concluded, because when he was turned back, he had felt like he had just woken up from a pleasant dream. A pleasant dream he had had in his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, since he didn’t feel hungry at all. In fact, it even looked like he had gained some weight.
When, during dinner, there was a knock at the door and Dumbledore came to visit them, Harry was very relieved to see the black rooster on his arm.
“I have considered the matter”, Dumbledore said. “I have been told he is used to a solitary life and being inside, so the only remaining question is whether he gets along with everyone else’s pets. Ronald, would you get your pet rat? Just so we can see whether the rooster attacks it?”
“Sure.” Ron got up and went upstairs.
„Can I keep him?“ Harry asked excitedly. „His owners don’t want him?“
“Now, Harry, do not get ahead of yourself, we will have to see if he gets along with the other pets, first.”
Ron returned with Scabbers in his pocket.
“I will create a magical cage around Scabbers so we will be able to observe if any of the things he usually does causes this rooster to attack him”, Dumbledore explained. “The rooster won’t be able to get to him.”
The magical cage was huge, about as big as the one Harry had imagined himself in when he had dreamt he was in a zoo. Of course, there were no bars, just the gleam of magic.
When Scabbers was inside, Dumbledore drew his wand and pointed it at Scabbers.
Everyone stared at the rat. Which was not a rat anymore.
“Why’d you turn Scabbers into a man?”, Ron asked.
“I only forced him to reveal his true self”, Dumbledore replied. “Hello Peter. Care to explain why you have been pretending to be a rat all those years?
“Is that – Merlin! Peter Pettigrew!” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. „He’s supposed to be dead!“
The small, fat man tried to escape the cage, but before he could do anything much, the door opened and Professor McGonagall entered, followed by a couple of people wearing all the same kind of robe.
Those, Harry realized, must be Aurors, the magical police.
They didn’t bother with putting handcuffs on the man, but just took the whole cage.
“I am sorry for deceiving you”, Dumbledore said. “The rooster was just an excuse to get Ronald to show me his rat. He will stay in his previous home, Harry, but I assure you, he is safe there. As safe as can be.”
It made sense, he probably was a pet, but Harry was still a bit worried.
***
They couldn’t get to platform 9 ¾. Somehow, the wall just didn’t let them through.
Harry thought it was a good reason to panic, but inexplicably, he felt rather calm.
When Ron suggested they take the flying car to get to Hogwarts, Harry considered it for a moment, but then shook his head. “We don’t have a driver’s license”, he pointed out. Ron probably had less experience driving a car than Fred and George did, and Harry had none at all.
“It’s an emergency!”
“Not really. Getting me away from the Dursleys was an emergency, but it’s not like we are dying or anything right now. Your parents will be back soon, and then they can drive us to Hogwarts.” Dumbledore had been really kind about the whole chicken thing, he would certainly not expel them from the school just for being some hours late.
If not for the chicken thing, Harry might have been more worried – he had spent the holidays worrying it might have all been a dream, and that he would never go back to Hogwarts. Now, though, he felt confident the adults would sort everything out.
“They probably can’t get out. It might be hours before they find a way, and then we’ll have missed the feast and Ginny’s sorting and - ”
“Can’t we just floo there?” He didn’t look forward to it, not after accidentally ending up in Knockturn Alley, but they would arrive on time. And if arriving by train was the only allowed way to get there, flying the car wouldn’t help at all.
“I’m not sure – no one does, there must be a reason why.”
“Your parents will figure something out.” That was what parents were there for, right? It was not like they were on their own. Not at all like when Uncle Vernon had dropped Harry at King’s Cross and laughed at the impossible platform number.
They had waited perhaps half an hour when Mrs. and Mr. Weasley came running. “You’re here! Oh thank God!”
Mrs. Weasley hugged Ron as if he had been in mortal danger, causing him to complain that he couldn’t get air.
When she gave Harry a hug, she had already calmed down some, so it didn’t feel bonecrushing, but rather nice, reminding Harry of how he had felt when he had been turned back after his time as chick.
“Why don’t you send a letter to Hogwarts?”, Mrs. Weasley suggested.
Hedwig hooted happily when Harry gave her the letter, stretched her wings and took off. She didn’t like traveling in her cage at all.
When they arrived back at the Burrow, Hedwig was already there with an answer. Professor McGonagall wrote she had arranged for them to travel to Hogsmeade via Floo and that a teacher would pick them up there.
This time, Harry didn’t make any mistakes with the floo, and when he stepped out into the large kitchen of the Three Broomsticks, he saw Professor Sprout waiting for them.
“Just leave your luggage here, it will be brought to the castle”, she told them. “We have to hurry, I’m sure you don’t want to be late for the Sorting.”
So they had a chance of arriving in time!
As they trailed behind Professor Sprout, Ron murmured “Just think of what the others would have said if they’d seen us arrive in a flying car!”
He had wanted to do it, Harry realized, not because he had been worried, but because he thought it was cool.
It might have been, but then, they might also have crashed into a tree – that was what happened to people who couldn’t drive well and still tried, Harry had read about it.
When he had still believed his parents had died in a car accident, he had been very interested in car accidents and why they happened.
He had often tried to imagine how everything could have gone differently, how his parents could have survived.
There were a lot of things that could go wrong, even if the person driving the car knew what they were doing, and Harry didn’t think trying to look cool was worth the risk.
When they took their places in the Great Hall, the Sorting was about to begin, but there was one place empty at the High Table. “I wonder where Snape is”, Harry whispered.
“Perhaps he is ill.” Ron sounded hopeful.
“Or he quit because he doesn’t get to teach Defence once again.” Harry said. He didn’t much like the thought that any of the teachers was so seriously ill Madam Pomfrey couldn’t help. Even if it was Snape.
“Or he was fired! Everyone hates him - ”
“Or perhaps”, someone said behind them. “He has been trying to find out why you couldn’t get to the platform, and no one could get back out.”
Harry turned around. Behind them stood Percy, his prefect badge polished to shimmer in the candlelight.
“He has?”, Ron asked, flabberghasted.
“I asked Professor McGonagall, and she said Mum and Dad have been able to get to you at last, and Professor Snape has been sent to investigate the problem.”
“We were very worried about you”, Hermione interjected.
“Why him?” It had, after all, nothing to do with potions.
Percy frowned. “She didn’t say, but I suppose they suspect someone has meddled with the barrier using dark magic. After all, it is probably you they wanted to keep out, Harry.”
That made sense. Lockhart had a lot of books about fighting dark creatures, but he might not be all that knowledgeable when it came to dark wizards and their methods.
And indeed, after they applauded Ginny being sorted into Gryffindor, there was Professor Snape at the High Table as though he never had been away.
They soon found out that Lockhart was utterly incompetent, so it made all the more sense that Snape had been sent to investigate the platform problem.
Harry had begun to think that, except for Defence against the Dark Arts, the new school year was going rather well, when the first Quidditch practice session disabused him of the notion.
Having to get up early annoyed him a bit, but once he was awake, Harry didn’t terribly mind. Then, of course, the Slytherins had to turn up.
Malfoy was nasty, as usual, and things escalated quickly. Malfoy called Hermione a ‘mudblood’ and Ron cursed Malfoy to throw up slugs.
Malfoy tried to retaliate, but couldn’t speak.
“Let’s go visit Hagrid”, Hermine said hurriedly. “Since you can’t play Quidditch anyway.”
On the way, Ron explained why he had gotten so angry, and Harry agreed that Malfoy had deserved it, while Hermione worried that Ron might be in trouble.
Chapter 5