Harry Potter 03 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Percy.
    The journey to King’s Cross was very uneventful compared to Harry’s trip on the Knight Bus. The Ministry of Magic cars seemed almost ordinary, though Harry noticed that they could slide through gaps that Uncle Vernon’s new company car certainly couldn’t have managed. They reached King’s Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found them trolleys, unloaded their trunks, touched their hats to Mr Weasley and drove away, somehow managing to jump to the head of an unmoving queue for the traffic lights.
    Mr Weasley kept close to Harry’s elbow all the way into the station.
    ‘Right then,’ he said, glancing around them. ‘Let’s do this in pairs, as there are so many of us. I’ll go through first with Harry.’
    Mr Weasley strolled towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten, pushing Harry’s trolley and apparently very interested in the InterCity 125 that had just arrived at platform nine. With a meaningful look at Harry, he leant casually against the barrier. Harry imitated him.
    Next moment, they had fallen sideways through the solid metal onto platform nine and three-quarters and looked up to see the Hogwarts Express, a scarlet steam engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children onto the train.
    Percy and Ginny suddenly appeared behind Harry. They were panting, and had apparently taken the barrier at a run.
    ‘Ah, there’s Penelope!’ said Percy, smoothing his hair and going pink again. Ginny caught Harry’s eye and they both turned away to hide their laughter as Percy strode over to a girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn’t miss his shiny badge.
    Once the remaining Weasleys and Hermione had joined them, Harry and Mr Weasley led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. They loaded the trunks onto it, stowed Hedwig and Crookshanks in the luggage rack, then went back outside to say goodbye to Mr and Mrs Weasley.
    Mrs Weasley kissed all her children, then Hermione, and finally, Harry. He was embarrassed, but really quite pleased, when she gave him an extra hug.
    ‘Do take care, won’t you, Harry?’ she said as she straightened up, her eyes oddly bright. Then she opened her enormous handbag and said, ‘I’ve made you all sandwiches. Here you are, Ron … no, they’re not corned beef … Fred? Where’s Fred? Here you are, dear …’
    ‘Harry,’ said Mr Weasley quietly, ‘come over here a moment.’
    He jerked his head towards a pillar, and Harry followed him behind it, leaving the others crowded around Mrs Weasley.
    ‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you before you leave –’ said Mr Weasley, in a tense voice.
    ‘It’s all right, Mr Weasley,’ said Harry, ‘I already know.’
    ‘You know? How could you know?’
    ‘I – er – I heard you and Mrs Weasley talking last night. I couldn’t help hearing,’ Harry added quickly. ‘Sorry –’
    ‘That’s not the way I’d have chosen for you to find out,’ said Mr Weasley, looking anxious.
    ‘No – honestly, it’s OK. This way, you haven’t broken your word to Fudge and I know what’s going on.’
    ‘Harry, you must be very scared –’
    ‘I’m not,’ said Harry sincerely. ‘Really,’ he added, because Mr Weasley was looking disbelieving. ‘I’m not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Sirius Black can’t be worse than Voldemort, can he?’
    Mr Weasley flinched at the sound of the name, but overlooked it.
    ‘Harry, I knew you were, well, made of stronger stuff than Fudge seems to think, and I’m obviously pleased that you’re not scared, but –’
    ‘Arthur!’ called Mrs Weasley, who was now shepherding the rest onto the train. ‘Arthur, what are you doing? It’s about to go!’
    ‘He’s coming, Molly!’ said Mr Weasley, but he turned back to Harry and kept talking in a lower and more hurried voice. ‘Listen, I want you to give me your word –’
    ‘– that I’ll be a good boy and stay in the castle?’ said Harry gloomily.
    ‘Not entirely,’ said Mr Weasley, who looked more serious than Harry had ever seen him. ‘Harry, swear to me you won’t go looking for Black.’
    Harry stared. ‘What?’
    There was a loud whistle. Guards were walking along the train, slamming all the doors shut.
    ‘Promise me, Harry,’ said Mr Weasley, talking more quickly still, ‘that whatever happens –’
    ‘Why would I go looking for