CHAPTER SIX
“Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Vernon. “There is no platform
nine and three-quarters.”
“Its on my ticket.”
“Barking,” said Uncle Vernon, “howling mad, the lot of them.
You’ll see. You just wait. All right, we’ll take you to King’s Cross.
We’re going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn’t
bother.”
“Why are you going to London?” Harry asked, trying to keep
things friendly.
“Taking Dudley to the hospital,” growled Uncle Vernon. “Got
to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings.”
Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited
and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans
because he didn’t want to walk into the station in his wizard’s
robes — he’d change on the train. He checke d his Hogwarts list yet
again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig
was shut safely in her cage, and then paced the room, waiting for
the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry’s huge, heavy trunk
had been loaded into the Dursleys’ car, Aunt Petunia had talked
Dudley into sitting next to Harry, and they had set off.
They reached King’s Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon
dumped Harry’s trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station
for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon
stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.
“Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine — platform ten. Your
platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don’t seem
to have built it yet, do they?”
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