1 september 1975
The mist lay thick on the platform called 9¾, as if covering up the crying mass of people, consisting mostly of grown-ups. Parents never did get used to it after all, sending away their kids. A fifteen year old girl patted her mother on her back and tried to comeback up with some meaningful parting words. This happened every year, the girl would try to come up with the perfect words to say and it all ended up as rubbish. This year she'd abandoned all hopes of ever saying the perfect goodbye and had just started hugging both of her parents as often as she could. Yes, she would be very sad to leave them. But she was going back to her school, and as she long ago found out; there's places that are better than home.
Her blonde hair was messy and had just started reaching her shoulders, which she was grateful for. She'd liked it short, but seriously, it had been a pain during the last winter. In her jeans pocket lay a prefect badge. She looked up, again, at the large clock. 10:47. She wondered if it was enough with the goodbyes now, she gave both of her parents a quick final hug before she climbed onto the train, carrying her luggage. With her she had a black cat, bought simply because she loved fitting into the prejudice. Because as you surely know, she was not just a simple girl on a train. Well, ok then, she was a simple girl on a train. But she was also a witch, going to the finest Wizardry School in the whole wide world; Hogwarts.
The witch's name was Cecilia Hawthorn and she was, finally, on her way back.