THE JOURNEY FROM PLATFORM
NINE AND THREE-QUARTERS
sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes
flick past.
Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in
the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door
and said, “Anything off the cart, dears?”
Harry, who hadn’t had any breakfast, leapt to his feet, but Ron’s
ears went pink again and he muttered that he’d brought sand-
wiches. Harry went out into the corridor.
He had never had any money for candy with the Dursleys, and
now that he had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready
to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry — but the woman
didn’t have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bertie Bott’s Every
Flavor Beans, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs,
Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number
of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not want-
ing to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the
woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.
Ron stared as Harry brought it all back in to the compartment
and tipped it onto an empty seat.
“Hungry, are you?”
“Starving,” said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin
pasty.
Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There
were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said,
“She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.”
“Swap you for one of these,” said Harry, holding up a pasty. “Go
on —”
“You don’t want this, its all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much
time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.”
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