Harry Potter 03 - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps in the corridor again, and their three least favourite people appeared at the door: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
    Draco Malfoy and Harry had been enemies ever since they had met on their very first train journey to Hogwarts. Malfoy, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face, was in Slytherin house; he played Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, the same position that Harry played on the Gryffindor team. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to exist to do Malfoy’s bidding. They were both wide and muscly; Crabbe was the taller, with a pudding-basin haircut and a very thick neck; Goyle had short, bristly hair and long, gorilla arms.
    ‘Well, look who it is,’ said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. ‘Potty and the Weasel.’
    Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.
    ‘I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley,’ said Malfoy. ‘Did your mother die of shock?’
    Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks’s basket to the floor. Professor Lupin gave a snort.
    ‘Who’s that?’ said Malfoy, taking an automatic step backwards as he spotted Lupin.
    ‘New teacher,’ said Harry, who had got to his feet, too, in case he needed to hold Ron back. ‘What were you saying, Malfoy?’
    Malfoy’s pale eyes narrowed; he wasn’t fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher’s nose.
    ‘C’mon,’ he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.
    Harry and Ron sat down again, Ron massaging his knuckles.
    ‘I’m not going to take any rubbish from Malfoy this year,’ he said angrily. ‘I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I’m going to get hold of his head and –’
    Ron made a violent gesture in mid-air.
    ‘Ron,’ hissed Hermione, pointing at Professor Lupin, ‘be careful …’
    But Professor Lupin was still fast asleep.
    The rain thickened as the train sped yet further north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering grey, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.
    ‘We must be nearly there,’ said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.
    The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.
    ‘Brilliant,’ said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. ‘I’m starving, I want to get to the feast …’
    ‘We can’t be there yet,’ said Hermione, checking her watch.
    ‘So why’re we stopping?’
    The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.
    Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.
    The train came to a stop with a jolt and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.
    ‘What’s going on?’ said Ron’s voice from behind Harry.
    ‘Ouch!’ gasped Hermione. ‘Ron, that was my foot!’
    Harry felt his way back to his seat.
    ‘D’you think we’ve broken down?’
    ‘Dunno …’
    There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.
    ‘There’s something moving out there,’ Ron said. ‘I think people are coming aboard …’
    The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry’s legs.
    ‘Sorry! D’you know what’s going on? Ouch! Sorry –’
    ‘Hello, Neville,’ said Harry, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.
    ‘Harry? Is that you? What’s happening?’
    ‘No idea! Sit down –’
    There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.
    ‘I’m going to go and ask the driver what’s going on,’ came Hermione’s voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.
    ‘Who’s that?’
    ‘Who’s that ?’
    ‘Ginny?’
    ‘Hermione?’
    ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘I was looking for Ron –’
    ‘Come in and sit down –’
    ‘Not here!’ said Harry hurriedly. ‘I’m here!’
    ‘Ouch!’ said