The life of Maghda Ferrier
Maghda sat in her cottage among a dense outcropping of trees with a perfect unison of branches leaving a hole in the center for ventilation and sunlight. The waning moon was just above the eastern tree line and it shone through the window like a fog light, the shadows of branches flailing on the floor caught her eye away from the fire she was so intently watching. She was in her night gown, Amber colored hair with choice greys lay across her back, drinking a warm Firewhiskey from a mason jar that used to hold candied newt eggs. It had been such a quiet spring in her home on the Scottish coast near Kirkudbright, the road that ran right by her house had been a bustle but the perimeter of her property had so many magical barriers she lost track when trying to list them to anyone. Her father had left her the house and his ancestors before him had passed it down since the third century, though their roots could be traced to Alexander the Great, when the magic started no one in the family could say but the power felt in these halls was immense.
Maghda sat pondering who would be able to come here if she had passed away, only a Ferrier could come on these grounds unless invited by the head of house. The Ferrier blood line stopped with her, she'd never married and her parents died on her birthday, she was turning 52 this year and she sat waiting for her favorite day, and the call that would come to let her know to be on the train. It was her birthday, he always called on her birthday but she was so tired and she was becoming impatient. Her Firewhiskey was nearly gone and she swirled it around in the jar. As she lift the jar to her mouth her fire burst into green flames if the Floo wasn't magical she thought it would burn the house down. The head of a grouchy woman appeared in her fireplace and cleared her throat.
"Maghda Ferrier?" The woman asked.
"Yes, may I ask how you got access to my Floo? There is only three people who can make contact here, the headmaster, the minister, and Hagrid." She said pointedly, pointing her wand at the woman's face and continuing. "Either explain or vacate my Floo, because if I come through you will be quite unhappy."
"I am one of those...well with an addendum...I am headmistress Minerva McGonagal, your...my... A great wizard has fallen tonight but in the list of notes he left for me to "consider" your name was listed as conductor of Hogwarts express. We will have need of the train immediately for those who wish to attend the funeral. I... I'm sorry for your loss..." McGonagal offered weakly as the head turned and her fire danced orange across the crackling logs once again. She sat in shock for a few moments staring at the fire and wondering if her whiskey had put her to sleep. She slapped herself, "ok, definitely awake. Right, off we pop."
She apparated to kings cross, still in her night gown and boarded the train. She flicked her wand upon entry in the caboose and the lights flooded on like a wave while the compartments across the train were being tidied. She shut herself into her compartment and changed into the dark purple dress, she combed and did up her hair before putting it under her most simple hat and stepping out onto the platform. She walked her train and did her safety sweeps both in and out before blowing the horn and starting the coal with a trickle of fire from her wand. Slowly the purple smoke rose out of the chimney and the momentum started to build, she always liked to start her slow, like a muggle would because she felt it needed to "loosen up" from sitting idle in the rail yard, so she let it climb its way into the platform to begin boarding, though she saw a few very impatient looking travelers already tapping their feet, she would have to wait 1 hour for her scheduled departure.
Maghda went into the food compartment as she came to a halt on the platform, she looked around and saw everything in order. She pulled out her wand and swirled it above her head, muttering an incantation and letting her eyes roll into the back of her head. The doors to the passenger compartments slid open crisply to reveal four very lifelike magical projections of conductors calling down the platform, "all aboard! This train will depart at 24:00 hours," Maghda smiled and began preparing the Trolley.
Once she had stocked and prepared she looked in the mirror above her bar and smiled to herself, 'the dress had looked brighter a minute ago,' she thought, sadly realizing what she was wearing. The dress turned the purest black instantly as she walked through the door to the passenger cars calling "Trolley" as she pushed it through, smiling into compartment Windows and discounting children's treats, a reprieve for grieving parents, showing kindness like Albus would have.