I think we would have missed the train if I hadn’t accidentally rammed Mikaela into the pillar between platforms 9 and 10 with my cart. Mom was interrogating the train guy, who looked too teenaged and knobby to be working at a train station, and Mikaela’s owl was making little screeches, chattering conversationally to no one in particular, sort of monotonously. I felt like I had been standing there with my hands on my trolley for days, rubbing off the varnish on the metal bar with my bored, sweaty palms.

“Platform 10! Train to Breton leaving in 15 minutes! All aboard for Breton!” The loudspeaker droned. Mikaela, who had to be just as impatient as I, pushed her cart just in front of mine and sat at the foot of it, on top of an overstuffed suitcase, and started to tease her new owl by wiggling her fingers at it.

The monotony of it lasted forever. I sighed and focused on daydreaming that I had a pet owl named Rowan, who turned out to be a demon-owl, but who I taught the value of kindness. I arrived at school with the most wonderful owl of anyone, who could shoot fire out of her beak and turn into a dragon-owl that I could ride, and when an army of undead attacked the school, me and Rowan saved everyone by dropping rocks on them, and then

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOT!!!” Screamed a train whistle. I jumped out of my fantasy with an intense sensation of falling forwards in alarm, and I felt both my arms jolt outwards in surprise. My cart rocketed forwards into Mikaela’s, which she was still sitting on, and propelled her hard straight into a brick pillar.

“Whaaaa!” was the weird, half-surprised, half-apologetic sound that escaped me.

“AAAAAAAAAH!!!” Shouted Mikaela as she went straight through the brick at high speed. I was really surprised when she just passed through it and disappeared.

“Platform 10! Leaving the station!” The loudspeaker said.

“Oy, whatchoo think you’re doing?” Asked the knobby pale train man.

“Um...” I said. 

“Nevermind!” Said my mother happily, patting the train man on the back. “Thanks for the help!” She shoved him off on his way. She turned to me. “Okay, how did she just do that?” She asked, patting the brick. I tentatively touched the pillar, feeling something that was sort of solid, but also quite obviously not. I took a deep breath and stepped through slowly, and as I did, my body was enveloped in a sort of jello-y wall that passed through me on the inside as well as the outside. It wasn’t unpleasant, just unsettling. 

The sight that met me on the other side was sort of disappointing, it was just another train. But half the kids and adults were gawking at it like it was some sort of majestic wondertrain. That’s how Mikaela was looking at it, at least. 

Mom and Mary McParlan appeared behind me with my cart, which I had forgotten.

Mom said goodbye, and she was crying, so I started crying, and it struck me again that I was going to be without my family until Christmas.

All this was forgotten, though, as soon as I got on the train. Mikaela and I were among the last to board, so there weren’t many cabins with room in them. One we passed had just two boys in it, who didn’t look completely unpleasant but we knew better; they were eleven-year old boys. So we passed them up. Another cabin we passed had the blonde butthead from the robe shop, Malfoy, and his two ogre-magi. They were all three laughing about something that was very obviously stupid. We finally came across a cabin with just two people in it, a bushy-haired, toothy girl who was emitting sound like a radio, and a short, pale, uncertain-looking boy who was completely silent and seeming very uncomfortable.

“Hello!” I said as I sat down next to the boy. The girl finished her sentence and gave me a slightly perturbed look at being interrupted. 

“Well, hello.” She said, head cocked. The cabin was silent. Mikaela looked as uncomfortable as the boy.

“Can we sit here?” I asked, feeling silly. 

“I suppose, I mean, I don’t see any reason why not.” Said the girl. “I’m Hermione Granger. This is Neville,” She added, nodding at the boy. He raised a weak hand. 

“I’m Madeline,” I said. “but people call me Chuck. Chuck-Sunny-Bun-Bun. It’s my nickname.”

“They don’t,” said Mikaela, ruining my foolproof plan. 

“This is Mikaela. No nickname.” I said indignantly. 

“Well, I should think not. From what I’ve heard, Hogwarts is more of a formal sort of school, where teachers address you on a last name basis, like some muggle high-end boarding schools. Or perhaps, you wouldn’t know about muggle schools?” She asked like a question. She never let us answer. “I’m muggle-born, so I have a lot to catch up on. I think it’s fascinating, how little wizards and muggles really know about each other. There’ll be a lot of muggle-born witches and wizards at the school, I expect, except in Slytherin. Personally, I wouldn’t want to be in Slytherin. Of course, that’s really for the Sorting to decide, but if I could choose, I would choose Gryffindor or Ravenclaw; I wouldn’t want to be a Hufflepuff either.” I didn’t know what any of that meant, but luckily I didn’t have to ask. “Gryffindor,” continued Hermione Granger, “Is famous for bravery, and from what I’ve read, the best wizards come from Gryffindor, even though it’s Ravenclaw that’s famous for intelligence. Slytherin’s supposed to be cunning and cleverness, but overall they sound like a thick bunch, and almost all dark wizards have been Slytherins. And then, of course, there’s Hufflepuff.”

If Mikaela had been excited about talking and messing around on the train ride, all her hopes were dashed. The only one talking was Ms. Formal Granger, and there was certainly no messing happening anywhere in the vicinity.

This was all before the train left the station.

I had a round silver CD case with one CD in the whole world. The CD had five songs on it, and after listening the first two times through, you got annoyed. As the train trudging along across the countryside to the high-pitched never-ending narration of Hermione Granger came into it’s second hour, I pulled out my CD case and popped on the headphones halfway through one of her sentences. She didn’t seem to mind, despite the momentary disapproving look that passed over Mikaela’s face, followed by a look of jealousy. She had not brought a CD player.

I think another hour went by before I started paying attention again. Mikaela had somehow found some way to get a few phrases inbetween Hermione’s long paragraphical sentences. They seemed to be enjoying eachother’s conversation, regardless. I took off the headphones and decided to engage.

“...Do you know what’s going to happen to our pets?” Asked Mikaela.

“I’ve heard there’s a special room just for the owls, but I don’t know about cats or rats. I don’t suppose they’ll allow us to keep them in our dormitories. I didn’t bring a pet, I don’t have one. I doubt my parents would want an owl making a mess in their house.”

“They do,” Spoke up Neville for the first time.

“What?” Asked Mikaela and Hermione. 

“Pets live in the dorms. They can go wherever, except you have to keep an eye on them. I’m always losing mine,” He added regretfully.

“What sort of animal do you have?” I asked, thinking of Lilly, who could use a friend.

“A toad.” Said Neville with an embarrassed flush in his cheeks. “Trevor. I begged my gran to let me get an owl, but she didn’t trust me with one. Told me I might lose it, or accidentally sit on it, or...” Neville shifted uncomfortably for a moment. As if to reassure himself, he opened up his bag, and a look of dread washed over his face. “Oh, no!” He moaned mournfully. “I’ve lost Trevor!”

I let out an involuntary giggle. Mikaela was fighting back a grin. Hermione, however, looked quite serious.

“You can’t have lost your toad already, we haven’t even made it to the school yet! He’s got to be on the train somewhere.” Neville was slightly cheered up by this.

“Unless he jumped out a window,” I added helpfully. 

“Let’s look for him.” Hermione commanded, ignoring me completely. Mikaela jumped up valiantly, and I reluctantly joined her and the Toad Rescue Team. We spread out over the train, with Hermione, Neville, and Mikaela taking that car and me taking all the other ones that I hadn’t explored.

The back cars had mostly seventh-years in it, and they were very scary to be around. They all seemed huge compared to me, huge and grown-up. A lot of them were swearing, which made me want to get out of there, because I had never and would never, ever use bad language like that. There was also a snack cart which was beginning to make it’s way down the train. I would have bought some sweets if the rude seventh years hadn’t been swearing so much and telling me to get out of the way of the cart, that I was blocking it, stop trying to pass the damn cart and just get out of the way! So rude. 

When I got back to our cabin, it was just me, Mikaela, and Neville. We seemed to have lost Hermione.

“Phew, finally, anyone want to talk?” I asked brightly.

“What do you mean?” Asked Mikaela, who was clearly not as turned off by Hermione as I. “She wasn’t that bad,” she added. 

“Did you ever find his toad?” I asked.

“No.” Said Neville sadly.

The sweet trolley came by. Neville didn’t want anything at first, but when he found out that both of us were muggle-born (which of course he didn’t know because Hermione choked out all other sound) and started suggesting different sorts of candy that we would want to try. Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans didn’t sound delicious, and Neville seemed mostly opposed to them. Mikaela wanted to try them, however. I bought two chocolate frogs and a peppermint toad. 

“Careful, they--” Neville started as I opened my frog. I was startled by what looked like a live frog jumping out at me. It made for the window, but I cleverly flailed my arms wildly in surprise and slapped it onto the floor, where it decided to stay mostly still.

“Is it a real frog?” I asked, picking it up and examining it.

“No,” Said Neville, “I don’t think so...” he continued uncertainly. I took a tentative bite. The frog kicked one of it’s chocolate legs, but it was undoubtably chocolate, and nothing more. What’s more, it was good chocolate, more like Dove and less like Cadbury. I broke off the hind legs and gave them to Neville, who didn’t say thank you, and just sat there looking amazed.

Okay, so Neville was a dweeb. But I sort of liked him.

“BLUGH!” Blughed Mikaela, making a face and spitting a bean out into a napkin. “Liver and onions. I just know that’s what it tastes like. You don’t want to try these.” 

I plucked a blue bean from the center of the pile and popped it into my mouth.

“Mmm! Violets!” I said happily.

“What? No fair!” Mikaela picked another bean, this one also blue. “Blueberry pie,” She chewed thoughtfully. “Try one, Neville!” She prompted. He nervously reached out a white hand and slowly picked a pink bean. He looked like a dying man, I thought. His shoulders fell in relief as he chewed. 

“Birthday cake,” he said.

We had a load of fun, trying all the beans. My favorite one that I had tasted like rosewater, but the most interesting one tasted like coconut and seawater. Mikaela searched fruitlessly for another birthday cake flavored bean, but the other pink ones turned out to be peach-raspberry, strawberry milkshake, and salmon. After the salmon one she gave up on it. Neville stuck almost entirely to white beans, and I couldn’t see why because almost all of them turned out to be soap flavored. 

“I once got a chili pepper one once,” he said, “and it burned my tongue for days.”

Hours passed rather easily. The trolley lady had offered pumpkin juice, but it sounded too horrid to try. Now we were wishing we had bought some, because after so many odd-tasting beans, Mikaela, Neville, and I were desperately thirsty.

“D’you think they’ll feed us at the school?” I asked longingly.

“D’you think they’ll feed us at the school?” Mimicked a drawling, snide, familiar and unwelcome voice. I turned my head toward the short blonde manchild standing in the gateway with his bodyguards. “Crabbe,” he said, motioning to the shorter one, “and Goyle. I don’t think I’ve introduced them.”

“Hello, Crabbe and Goyle, I’m Madeline Johnson.” I said pleasantly. They didn’t say anything. “If you don’t have anything to say, please leave.”

“Doesn’t want to talk to us, then?” He got a little closer. “The mudblood thinks she’s too high-and-mighty?”

Neville gasped.

“You can’t say-” He started, but was cut off by an absolutely killing look from Draco. “You c-can’t call someone...”

“And I suppose you’re going to stop me? Who’re you, anyway?” Draco surveyed Neville, who couldn’t have looked more like a gopher cornered by coyote. 

“N-Neville,” he started, “L-l-lo-”

“Longbottom,” sneered Draco haughtily as he leaned back and puffed up his shoulders, looking down his nose at the three of us. “You’re the boy who lives with his grammy. Parents went mad, did they? Probably out of shame from having to parade around with a fat ugly baby all the time, wouldn’t you think, boys?” Crabbe and Goyle laughed forcedly.

“That’s enough.” Said Mikaela. “You have no right to say those things. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re acting really stupid right now, and I don’t know why you think it’s so funny, because all you’re doing is making yourselves look like idiots. You’re just being mean and rude on purpose, and we don’t want you in here anymore.”

“We didn’t want you in here to begin with.” I added. “I don’t know what your problem is, but none of us are going to help you solve it.”

“Leave.” Repeated Mikaela like a stern and terrifying velociraptor threatening to charge.

“I think I’ll leave when I want to.” Said Draco nastily. I got extremely angry. Who did he think he was? 

“You underestimate us,” I said to him, suddenly remembering something Hermione had said. “you obviously don’t know a thing about muggle culture. For instance, when you spend your life running around on a public playground, you have to know how to land a punch or a kick to survive. Mikaela and I-” I gestured to Mikaela, who was starting to grasp where I was going with this, “are particularly fond of the public playgrounds. If you don’t leave in the next minute, we’ll show you what we mean. You wizard children are coddled, and maybe you have a headstart on magic or something, but I see that you don’t have your wand right now.” Ha HA! I was a genius. Except I think maybe I was starting to cry a little with anger, but no real tears had escaped. I willed them not to; I was asserting my manhood and could show no weakness.

To my dismay, Draco laughed. I really hoped I didn’t actually have to punch him, because I was all talk and no walk; my arms had about the same strength as a pair of toothpicks, and I didn’t want to hurt my hand on his face. Also, Crabbe and Goyle were enormous and looming. I had the sudden realization that they were anything but coddled. But luckily for all of us in car 6B, Draco and his band of merry men left, still laughing, like I was some bit of fluff that could barely bother them. I sat down, fuming.

“Holy crap, Maddie! You can’t just say you could punch someone!” Mikaela gasped, bursting into laughter. I started laughing as well, even though I could still feel anger coursing through my body like lightning.

“I would have, too.” I said, lying to myself. “So, so far, we’ve made three enemies, and zero friends.” I said. “Except for Neville,” I added, though he wasn’t really a friend, per say, just a kid whose honor we had defended.

“And Hermione,” said Mikaela. I didn’t say anything to agree.

“I like having enemies, it’s fun. I want to find some more.” I suggested.

“You’re going to get yourself beat up, and me, too.” Mikaela replied. “Neville, are you all right?” She asked our new “friend”. 

“Yes”. He replied, looking visibly unhappy.

“Don’t let him get to you, he’s a douche.” Said Mikaela.

“A total douche, as in, you couldn’t make a douchier person if you wanted to.” I added. “Great hair, though. I wonder how much of his own boogers he uses to slick it back like that?”

“Eew!” laughed Mikaela. When you’re eleven, “booger” is the funniest word in the English language, regardless of it’s context.

The sky darkened. I only got thirstier.

“Maybe they’re not taking us to school at all, and instead we’ll all be forced into a giant sausage grinder, and they’ll sell the sausage to fast food companies.” I speculated, making Neville freeze up.

A new head popped into our cabin. It was a boy, a few years older than me, with dark skin and hair, who looked ecstatic. 

“Did you hear, firsties?! Harry Potter’s comin’ to Hogwarts! He’s on this train!” 

The head disappeared. There was a moment of silence.

“What?” Mikaela wondered aloud.

“Harry Potter,” muttered Neville. We didn’t get an answer out of him after that.

The train stopped finally, which was good, because I had to pee tremendously, and I didn’t want to use the train toilet because I had to walk past Draco to get there. We disembarked and were greeted by an unusually large bearded man with a lamp. It was extraordinarily dark, and I completely lost Mikaela in the crowd, and then I completely lost myself in the crowd, and I didn’t comprehend anything that happened until I found myself sitting in a rowboat.

I was in there with three other people I had never seen before. There was a black-haired boy with glasses, a wispy blonde girl who was small and willowy, and the opposite sort of girl, who was very large with a jutting jaw. Normally, I would be uncomfortable, but being on a boat at night put me in my element. Lakes were my birth ground and boats were my cradles, and the fact that we didn’t have to row was very comforting. The lakes propelled themselves across the black lake, which was lit by floating lanterns. We all marveled at the sight, but even more magnificent was the castle that was looming like a stone leviathan on a mountain over the lake, casting a brilliant reflection of gold and silver on the glasslike black water. 

That’s Hogwarts, I realized. That’s the wizard school.