I've never been to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry before nor have I ever attended an all wizard school. But I felt like the next few years was going to be alright. My parents never really got along , my house was full of shouting since I was young and they sent me here while they sorted out the divorce settlement. When I received my letter in the summer holidays I was so ecstatic, but only my mother seemed to care. She took me to diagon alley and helped me buy my books and quills, ink and robes. When I met Legan (pronounced lay-gen) my pet owl, I fell in love. She was a beautiful, black Tytonidae owl with great glowing eyes. It was four hours of bliss. But then I came home and it broke the spell. I was glad to be leaving behind the stress of home life and to somewhere where I wish to spend the rest of my life.
Living in Corbridge, a small village in Northumberland, it meant that I had to use the flu network to get to Kings Cross on time. My mother said goodbye to me at the wall to platform 9 and 3/4 and begged that I understand how my father was too busy to say goodbye.
Pushing my trolley through the wall, I was struck by pure white steam and hundreds of moving shadows cast by students and parents waiting to say goodbye. I envied all of them.
Grey figures swam past me, laughing and giggling , pointing to the great red beast. I pushed my trolley right to the end of the platform, passing by thousands of trolleys, carrying trunks, wizard hats, owls , toads and cats. I reached the end of the train and heaved to lift my trunk onto it, gasping with the weight of robes and newly bought books. A money bag in my pocket, jangled with my every movement. I opened the door to the compartment and slumped on one of the seats, placing Legan on the seat next to me.