AN: I'm not actually sure what compelled me to write this. It doesn't even really have much of a plot. It's just sort of... there. Oh, well. I don't own the people being described in this little ficlet.
Platform Nine was bustling as trains waited in King's Cross Station. September 1st was, no doubt, a busy day this year, due in part, no doubt, to it being a Saturday. Funny, how it was the year 2018 and people were still taking trains everywhere. One might've thought people would be flying cars by now. Still, people filled the station, rustling by, trying to get from one place to the next, paying little heed to the people around them.
One little girl bounced in her seat by the window. She'd gotten there early, as she so loved to do. It gave her a marvelous opportunity to watch passersby on the platform in front of her. She loved to make up stories for their lives, imagine what mystical secrets they might hold, determine where they were going and from whence they came. Today, she'd taken to a family who was gathered in front of the barrier between platforms Nine and Ten. A small family, just four of them, but they were so full of life. She could imagine all sorts of possibilities for them.
First, the daughter. She must have been around twelve, by the looks of her. Wisps of her thick orange hair stuck out from her braid. Her simple plaid shirt and her jeans might have seemed normal on anyone else, but, on the daughter, they seemed out of place. She really seemed more the kind to wear flowing dresses. Her cart had many strange things: a rather large trunk –did people really still carry trunks? Most used suitcases nowadays- a garment bag, and, perhaps most strangely, an owl in a small cage. The little girl on the train imagined that the daughter must be going off alone on her adventure. Certainly, she was a princess, being sent off to a castle far away to live, perhaps with a dragon. Maybe she'd even have a wizard guarding the tower. She was probably too smart to be rescued. She'd get out all on her own in some years' time.
Then there was the son. He was obviously a couple of years younger than his sister, whose very same shade of ginger hair sprung from the top of his head. His sweater (which was a tad too big for him) had a large 'H' on it –what could that stand for? Harry? Herman? Hugo? The little girl imagined him to grow up and be a knight, battling evil with the finest of men and women, helping to curb the world of its demons. Not yet, of course, for he looked to only be about ten –barely older than she was. Still, one day, he could be something great. Maybe he possessed a quality that few others had, who knew? Greatness might simply just flow through his veins.
The parents were next. The father was tall and gangly, although he seemed to have begun to carry a bit of weight around his belly with age. It was obvious that the children got their hair from him, as his carrot-colored mane stuck out at all angles. He had a very simple shirt tucked into his jeans, which looked as out of place on him as they did on his daughter. His wife was much shorter –not particularly small compared to other people, perhaps, but probably almost a foot shorter than him. Her thick brown hair was pulled back into a taut bun. She wore a blazer with plain black pants, looking fresh despite the dark circles under her eyes. The girl imagined-
"Lila, dear!"
The girl spun around in her seat to her mother standing over her. "I'm just going to pop into the loo for a bit. Don't talk to anyone, d'you hear?" she said as she wandered off. Lila simply nodded in response as she turned her head back to the window.
Darn if the family hadn't disappeared. She'd barely turned her head away for a second! Surely they'd still be visible somewhere on the platform.
Lo and behold, they'd vanished entirely. Lila huffed in disappointment. No one else on the platform looked anywhere near as interesting. She'd have to settle for something considerably less interesting; for instance, perhaps that one mouse-ish clan of three with the white blond hair.
The little girl cleared her mind of the spirited ginger family and began. The father of this family wore long dark cloak over his deep green suit, and he looked as though-
"Lila, dear, I'm back!" She spun around once more as her mother sat down next to her again. Now she'd lose that family, too, no doubt about it. She gave a small sigh of defeat as she acknowledged her mum before leaning her head against the pane.
Much to her surprise, the two parents and small son of the first family had reappeared, walking away from the barrier between platforms Nine and Ten. The woman had one arm wrapped around her husband's waist as her other hand hurried the young boy along. Now Lila took the time to imagine their lives. Perhaps she was a scientist, yes, and he battled giant lizards for a living. Either that, or he was masquerading as a jester in his spare time. These seemed like suitable careers for the people Lila saw before her, for the people who slowly disappeared once more down the platform. As her own train began to chug away and Lila lost the opportunity to craft more stories, she contented herself to know that, whatever lives these people had, they were most assuredly fantastic.