"Bloody Sunday." Bruce growled as he crouched into his extremely small car. It sank as he sat down, and he quickly exited his driveway. He had a half an hour drive to Kings Cross Station in London, where he worked.
When he arrived, the station was more crowded than usual, but he just walked to his assigned platform, where he was accustomed to the obnoxious riders asking him hassling questions. The people today were very strange. It seemed to Bruce that a convention or gathering of some sort was meeting today. Small groups, all of which were wearing cloaks and other odd attire, scurried through the station. It was nearing eleven, yet the strange lot wasn't dying down.
A small boy ran up to him soon after pushing a trolley with a large trunk and owl on it. If that wasn't weird enough to catch Bruce's attention, the question he asked did.
"Excuse me, sir, but do you know how to get to Platform 9 ¾?" The boy fixed his circle lens glasses.
Bruce was caught off-guard and swiftly scoffed, "Platform 9 ¾? Think you're being funny, do you?"
The boy was side-tracked with a large ginger haired family with similar luggage, and walked away. Bruce did catch what she was saying though, something about muggles, whatever that meant. Though, the strange conversation did spark some curiosity in Bruce, so he followed the boy and the ginger family.
"Platform 9 ¾ this way!" The ginger mother exclaimed and dragged her daughter by the wrist in the direction her family was going.
"Percy, you first!" She yelled again, as Bruce peeked behind a barrier.
A tall, professional looking boy stepped out from the group and ran at the barrier in front of Bruce. At the point of which he assumed the boy would crashing, he vanished. He simply disappeared into the brick barrier as if it wasn't there at all. Bruce blinked wildly, for he thought he imagined it, but as he looked at the scrawny boy who approached him earlier, he knew it was real.
"Fred, you next!" The mother called to one of the ginger twins who stood in the group.
One stepped out and said disappointedly, "He's not Fred, I am!" They continued a small argument, and then they, too, disappeared into the barrier.
By now, Bruce was wide-eyed and frozen to the spot. How was this happening? He thought. This is impossible. Am I dreaming?
"Excuse me! Could you tell me how to..." The young boy stood out substantially with his dark untidy hair.
"How to get on to the platform? Yes, not to worry dear, it's Ron's first time to Hogwarts as well. Now, all you have to do is walk straight at the wall between platforms 9 and 10. Best do it at a run if you're nervous." She quickly said, rushing the boys to their positions.
Bruce looked at Platform 9, and then counted the brick barriers until Platform 10. There was three. He counted in his head, 'Platform 9, 9 ¼, 9 ½, 9 ¾, 10.' It made sense, yet none at all. He redirected his attention to the family again, but all he caught was a tuff of ginger curls disappearing into the barrier.
Just then, the clock struck eleven. Bruce calmly jogged over to where the family stood moments before and touched the barrier. It was solid, yet it didn't convince him. He pushed harder and harder, and he was slanted towards the floor.
"Uh…Bruce?"
He looked up to see the attendant to Platform 10 staring down at him.
"Oh, Marshall." Bruce mumbled, and regained his stance.
"Whutchudoin?" Marshall's accent became apparent.
"Er, nothing. Good day." Bruce walked back to his Platform, embarrassed, yet still curious about that family.
One Year Later
The strange incident had slipped Bruce's memory at the time. Yet still a crucial thought in his head, it faded away after countless hours of internet searching. It wasn't worth his time searching nonsense.
Bruce woke an hour late for work, so he arrived at the station at 10:30. He went to his normal platform, and answered obnoxious questions, when suddenly a strange sight caught his eye. The same family who he saw a year earlier was bustling down the station. He followed them, and saw the dark haired boy with them too. Besides him, and another ginger-haired child, the family had already disappeared into the wall.
"Let's go!" The dark hair boy and his friend ran full speed into the barrier, yet this time, they crashed.
Bruce quickly jumped out and yelled, "Oi! What do you two think you're doing?"
"Sorry, lost- lost control of the trolley," The dark haired boy sputtered.
This was enough for Bruce. He bolted straight to the main office and knocked on his boss's door. It opened a moment later and he walked inside.
"Ah, er…" His boss said slowly.
"Bruce, Mister Wallington, sir." Bruce breathed out.
"Call me Sam, now what seems to be the matter?" He folded his hands on his large desk.
"This year, and the last I saw this family running through a barrier! And I touched it and it's solid!" Bruce yelled, frustrated.
"Woah, Bruce, calm down. Start from the beginning."
"Well, last year, I was at my post when a small boy asked me where he could find 'platform 9 ¾. And-sir?" Bruce could have sworn his boss nodded at a portrait on the wall.
"Mhm, continue."
"Well I followed him and I saw a large family and they all just ran into a brick barrier! Completely through it! And today, I saw the very same family, and they did the same, except for the small boy and his friend! They crashed and I asked what they were doing. They said-" Bruce stopped midsentence when an extremely old man, with a very long beard, materialized next to his boss.
"I've heard enough." His boss said sternly. "Go ahead."
"Obliviate." The man said simply, while waving a long white stick.
AN: This is my first fanfic. Thought this was an interesting story theme. Probably my worst possible effort. Sorry x
