11 year old Hermione wandered along King's Cross, with her trunk filled with her Hogwarts books and robes, and light brown owl, Dewy, in front of her. She glanced at the ticket in her hand again. Where on earth is platform nine and three quarters? She began feeling desperate: It was already 10:45 a.m., if she still could not find the platform in 15 minutes, she would miss the train to Hogwarts! Ok, calm down. It must be somewhere between platform 9 and 10, using my common sense, that is. Hermione took a deep breath and stared around. There is nothing but a solid, grey barrier between platform 9 and 10. The loud screeches from Dewy attracted the attention of many passer-bys. Hermione felt her face grow hot as she stared determinedly forward.

Out of the blue, a boy with absolutely messy hair which stuck up in all directions and who was wearing a pair of round, nerdy spectacles stepped right in front of her. He had a thin, lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. He barely glanced at Hermione despite her thick mane of brown hair as he pushed his trunks forwards. He stopped directly in front of the barrier between platform 9 and 10. Hermione rushed forward and tapped his shoulders lightly. "Um…excuse me. Can you please tell me how to get onto platform nine and three quarters?" Hermione said this all in one breath, getting a little hysterical at the end.

Harry Potter said haughtily, "Why should I tell you? You girl with bushy hair, you remind me so much of a horse. I am the great Harry Potter, and who are you to talk to me?" Hermione gasped. No one had ever insulted her so greatly in her life. The marvelous sounding Harry Potter in books was so truly horrible in real life. Harry turned his heels on her, pushed his trunk forward with all his might towards the barrier between platform 9 and 10. Hermione stared at him unblinkingly. Was he mad? Why does he want to crash into that barrier? Then, Harry just disappeared into thin air! She rubbed her eyes. Maybe I should just follow what he did. Hermione wheeled her trunks around and picked up Dewy's cage. She fixed her large, amber eyes forward at the barrier and pushed her trunks forward. Hermione broke into a run and the barrier seemed to rush towards her, and when it was an inch in front of her trunk, she squeezed her eyes shut together. She waited with bated breath for the crash that never came.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. Her heart started pumping hard onto her chest. She stared hard around. Is this still King's Cross? Thick, red smoke was pouring from a long, ancient train. The number 'Nine and three quarters' was printed on a board. It certainly looked as though she had travelled a few thousand years back in time. She was finally on platform nine and three quarters! When the smoke cleared a little, she could many students, some already changed into their Hogwarts robes, looking impressively around; while others stood chatting in large groups, merry voices and screeches of owls could be heard everywhere. Then, a loud whistle could be heard. There was a large scramble into the train and scenes of parents kissing their children goodbye could be seen. Hermione, with much difficult, dragged her trunk and owl cage up the train as the train began to move slowly away from the platform.

*****

Hermione pushed her trunk ahead of her and she tried to look for a seat. Everyone seemed to know one another, and she suddenly felt alone and lonely. She finally found a seat at the end of train and went inside to sit down. She glanced outside the window to see the tall buildings disappearing fast behind her and soon, deserted fields took over. The scene grew wilder and wilder as dark forests grew into her sight with their long twisting branches. Hermione, feeling bored, took out a book and started reading. Suddenly, her reading was rudely interrupted when a boy with sleek blond hair push the sliding glass door open and stepped inside with his trunk and owl.

He started loudly, "Can I join you in this cabin?"

However, without waiting for a reply, he plopped himself down on the seat opposite her and started staring at her like he had never seen another human being before.

"You! You barge into this cabin without my permission and now you're staring at me like this?" Hermione asked furiously, her face boiling in anger.

"What? I asked if I can sit down right?" The boy with blond hair retorted.

"But I did not give you permission!" Hermione continued, "And you interrrupted my reading!"

"You, give me permission? I am Draco Malfoy, a Malfoy! Who are you to give me permission?" He asked, a little agressively.

"I am Hermione Granger. And I have every right to do so, no matter who you are!" Hermione said shrilly.

"Hermione Granger..." Draco said thoughtfully, "Are you pureblood?" He asked suddenly.

"No. I'm muggleborn." Hermione said, now a little curious. "Why?"

"Nothing much." Draco said, smirking a little.

"What? I'm muggleborn, so what?" Hermione asked, feeling her temper rising again.

"That means...." Draco started, "Never mind."

"Whatever. Now, please excuse me." Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

Hermione pushed open the sliding door and went out. What a peculiar boy! Anyway, what is wrong to be a muggleborn? The question was still hanging within her...