AN: For Lizzie's Muggle Artefacts Challenge. 115 words…and I struggled to get it down to this. :(
I don't own the idea of something Muggle bursting into flames on Platform 9 and ¾…that comes from evansentranced's fic Magical Relations, which you should all read. Immediately!
A Lesson Learnt
The Blacks had scarcely arrived on Platform 9 and ¾ when an ear-splitting shriek rent the air.
A tiny plump girl with pigtails was standing not six feet away, staring helplessly down at the charred remains of a brown satchel. Tears were pooling in her pale eyes and spilling over on to her rounded cheeks.
Andromeda craned her neck for a better look. It was just possible to make out smoking shards of glass and liquid wax.
Her mother suddenly gripped her shoulder. Meda started guiltily. Staring was rude.
But Druella wasn't angry. Instead, she merely looked at her daughters sternly, before saying disdainfully, "That, my dears, is why Magic and Muggles should never mix."