Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again." "Oh, Neville," he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. "Give us a look, Lee, go on." The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk toward the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins he'd followed through the barrier. "Yes, please," Harry panted. "Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!" With the twins' help, Harry's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment. "Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. "What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar. "Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you "He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry. "What?" said Harry. "Harry Potter, "chorused the twins. "Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am."

The two boys gawked at him, and Harry felt himself turning red. Then, to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door. "Fred? George? Are you there?" "Coming, Mom." With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. Harry sat down next to the window where, half hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief. "Ron, you've got something on your nose." The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"Mom -- geroff" He wriggled free. "Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins. "Shut up," said Ron. "Where's Percy?" said their mother. "He's coming now."

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