The girl sat on the train, looking out of the window at a world that was so strange to her. A whole community hidden away from the rest of the world, cutting itself off from everything that wasn't theirs. Her life had changed so much, since that morning. The morning she had seen an owl perched outside her bedroom window, and heard her mother calling from downstairs, saying there was a letter for her.
She looked out again at the crowds. Until that moment a few months ago, she would have scoffed at the idea of witches and wizards existing in the real world. They were only real in books and movies. Now here she was, on a train packed with them, on her way to a school that she never knew existed.
The train let out a high pitched whistle, and started pulling away from the station. She shifted her eyes away from the window and down to the writing pad on her lap; it was full of a long, spidery scrawl that only she could read. The girl twirled her pen in her hand, head full of stories swirling around, trying to pinpoint a tale good enough to be placed on paper.
Suddenly, the door to the compartment opened, and a boy about her age with dark hair and green eyes hidden behind thick, round glasses, poked his head through the door. "Um, excuse me, do you mind if I sit in here? All of the other compartments are full." the girl smiled and nodded, gesturing to the seat opposite her. "Sure, it's all yours." The boy let out a sigh of relief, and stepped into the compartment. The girl went back to staring at her page and twirling her pen. He placed a backpack onto the seat and sat down.
He leaned back into the comfortable cushion at his back. He glanced out the window, and said almost to himself: "This is so weird, I never thought wizards and witches were real." The girl glanced up from her writing pad, and smiled at him again. "Tell me about it," she said "I always though magic only existed in my imagination and in stories, and now I find out its real. It's the strangest thing ever."
The boy grinned, and nodded. "I know, I always knew it was real somehow. It's almost a dream come true for me to realise I'm not crazy!" the girl let out a laugh, and the boys grin grew even wider. He looked down at the paper covered in scrawls. "What's that?" he questioned curiously. She looked down and her cheeks turned red. "Oh nothing, it's just some ideas for stories I might write."
"Oh, do you want to be a writer?" she nodded. "That's awesome!"The girl blushed a brighter shade of red and looked away, smiling.
"My names Henry by the way, Henry Porter." The girl turned her head to look at him, still smiling and said:
"My names Joanne. Joanne Rowling."