Author's note: I don't own and I am not affiliated in any way with the Harry Potter franchise.
Thomas and Mary Brownell were muggles. They had no reason to believe in magic, let alone suspect that Britain was chock-full of witches and wizards living in secret. Happily married, with 9 to 5 jobs as an accountant and a doctor, respectively, they lived normal lives in a normal town, with few worries other than where they'll go for dinner each night. There was only magical thing about the Brownells: they were both impossibly rubbish at cooking.
Thomas always knew that he wanted a child, and Mary was never quite too sure, and it wasn't until the pair were in their forties that they decided to try and have a baby. Mary became pregnant at forty-two, and normality became a thing of the past; during her pregnancy, she frequently dreamed about cooking, and at three months pregnant decided to experiment in the kitchen. She was easily able to replicate Julia Child's recipes from the cookbook she had been given the year before as a Christmas present - although she simply saw it as "a coincidence." Thomas, on the other hand, felt that Mary's pregnancy was a blessing from God - in those nine months, he worked for considerably high-profile businesses and clients, who listened to his advice and took it - and most importantly, paid well. Mary found that her pregnancy was actually rather blissful, and began too look forward to having her child.
On February 28th, 1960, the Brownells welcomed a beautiful baby girl into their family. They had debated about names for months, and had decided to call her Amelie - but as they first looked at their new-born baby, they simultaneously asked each other a question:
"What do you think of the name Elizabeth?"
When February 28th 1971 rolled around, the Brownells expected the usual flurry of birthday cards from family and friends, but they definitely weren't expecting a knock at the door from a woman dressed in a navy pantsuit, pale green brogues, a tight bun and a scowl.
"Hello, are you Thomas and Mary Brownell?"
"Er, yes we are," Thomas stumbled over his words, "uhm, who are you?"
"My name is Minerva McGonagall, I'm the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," said the woman, looking sternly at Thomas over her glasses.
"Ah, right."
"Thomas, dear, why don't we invite Mrs McGonagall inside?"
"Oh, yeah, sorry, uhm, would you like to come inside?"
"Yes, thank you, I have quite a lot to talk to you about, is Elizabeth present?"
September 1st took forever to arrive, and with every passing moment Elizabeth's excitement grew. Falling asleep the night before had taken forever, and it was rather unfortunate, in that case, that she found herself woken up at 4am, as someone outside had become rather fascinated with the door-bell. Luckily, things as trivial as sleep held little importance to Elizabeth, as she ran downstairs to beat her parents to the door.
"Hullow!" She exclaimed as she swung the door open, and found herself faced with an orange-haired man who broke immediately into a wide, toothy grin.
"Hello! You must be Elizabeth. I was just admiring this buttony thing! Sorry I'm so early, how did you know I was here?"
It was in this moment that Thomas and Mary reached the door, and it took a moment for them to realise that this would be the "muggle-relations" employee who was to escort them to the train station.
"Er, that button's a doorbell. It rings, loudly."
"You must be Thomas! But oh wow, how does that work? Is it connected to the electricalicity?"
"Uhm, yeah, it is, sorry, what's your name?"
It hadn't seemed as if the man's grin could get any bigger, but then it did.
"I'm Arthur Weasley! I work for the Ministry of Magic, I'm in the Muggle Liason office at the moment although, er, not very high up," Arthurs grin faded a little, "but one day I want to be head of a higher ranking department, so we'll see!"
Thomas and Mary nodded, and the look of excitement returned to Arthurs face.
"Do you mind if I come in? I got here a little early, and uh, if you don't mind that is, I'd quite like to hear the noise this doorbutton makes."
Platform Nine, Platform Ten. Platform Nine and Three Quarters didn't appear to exist, as far as the Brownells could see. Elizabeth bit her lip.
"Mr Weasel?"
"It's uh, Weasley, dear."
"Mr Weasley?"
"You can call me Arthur."
"Alright well, Arthur, where is the platform?"
"Oh! Um, it's right through here..."
Arthur led them to a pillar, and the Brownells watched a few wizarding families run through the wall from afar.
"You see, the thing is, muggles, such as yourselves, er, well, they can't come through. There's spells to stop them, you see. We've been trying to get special permissions for the parents of muggleborn wizards but, erm, it's not too safe at the moment." Arthur glanced at Thomas and Mary, who exchanges uneasy glances.
"Wait," Elizabeth piped up, "how isn't it safe?"
"I'm sure you'll learn about it in school, dear. Now, aren't you going to say goodbye to us?" Asked Mary, with a tone of urgency that Elizabeth couldn't bring herself to argue against. The family exhcanged heartfelt goodbyes, and Elizabeth promised to send letters every second week - with her new owl, Betty - and her parents promised to reply to each one as soon as they could, and send her sweets from home when they could. A second before he and Elizabeth ran through the wall, Arthur quickly apologised;
"I'm sorry for the noise this morning! I'm glad you were all up so early, I wouldn't have wanted to wake you up!"