Chapter 1
Yes, yes, the Arienis is back again, accompanied by the latest story from my brain. Actually, I wrote this some time ago, and am pleased to say that I like it so far. So I figured, hey why not give it a chance on the network? So here it is. Of course I don't own any characters of Harry Potter, but I do have all rights over Olivia Camelle as well as her parents and a couple other characters in the book. Thank you, and enjoy!
A train whistled nearby as I walked into the crowded station. I was waiting for a friend, Anne, from America. She was coming to visit me after five years of being penpals. Moreover, we had met once before in Boston when I had visited my uncle Don. Therefore, I was not meeting some stranger that could be a stalker.
I brought my video camera so we could go sightseeing and meet up with a couple of my pals. It was low on battery but I could stop in one of the small shops located variously around Kings Cross station and get another one if the need arose.
Sighing, I looked at the train schedule. It should be here soon. Five minutes passed, then twenty. I settled down on an empty bench by platform three. A train flew through, followed by a gust of sizzling summer wind. I looked down bitterly at my jeans. Why, oh why did the weatherman say it would be chilly?
I remembered the hushed argument my parents were having earlier in our living room, while I was watching the news in the kitchen area. My mother was apparently against something my father had just brought up. Curiosity got the better of me and I peered around the corner to look. "You heard what the headmaster said! She is in danger! We cannot expose her to those things. You and I both have spent too much time leaving that world behind to just pick it back up again." Mother was pacing back and forth, her heels scuffing the carpet. Father was sitting on the couch and holding a letter in his hands.
"Honey, I want her to know. I want her to understand that world, to live in it, as she should. We can't ignore it and hope it goes away. Remember Olivia's last birthday?"
I did. When my friends and I were at the carnival in town, strange things began to happen. All of the games broke down as soon as I touched them. We believed it was a prank. Then the manager approached us and kicked us out, for apparently breaking expensive property. My parents were a bit flustered.
Nevertheless, we shrugged it off and went for ice cream. That was even worse. The treats were disgusting; one had a spider in it. I had remarked, "It would be better if it came from a cow, instead of from a diseased skunk." When we got to our car, after throwing away the rubbish, there was a dairy cow, just standing there. It was then that my parents took me home and threw their own birthday party for me.
My father held up the letter in his hands. "If we just ask him to watch her, I'm sure she'll be fine."
But Mother had made up her mind. "No Charles. There is no going back." That was that.
I don't know what they were talking about, but it must have had something to do with me. I can't see how I am in danger though. They were fine with me going by myself to pick up Anne, though I was to call them when she got there with a payphone.
A glance at the schedule proved that the train was going to be at least an hour late. However, an hour went by and my patience was thinning. A guard came over twice to ask me if I was waiting for anyone. I simply nodded my head and replied, "Yes, but she will be here soon, thank you." He walked away and left me to wait. The second time, he looked a bit skeptical but nodded anyways and disappeared into the mass of people departing or waiting.
Truly, the weatherman must have confused the London weather with Antarctica! Everyone around was wearing t-shirts and shorts. I, on the other hand, had on tan khakis, a blue long-sleeved shirt with a nice 'v', white running shoes, I came straight over from my one-mile run in the park, and a fuzzy purple scarf. My mother and I both make scarves; it is a tradition in our family. My grandmother does it, as her mother did, and so on. Today, my hair was French-braided so it would stay in place. In addition, I had on a gold necklace with a heart-shaped locket. My parents gave it to me when I turned eight. On the front, a larkspur is engraved, the birth flower of July. In the inside, on the left, is a picture of a boy, and me, both one month old; we were born on the same day. He was a cousin I believe. However, my mother later told me that he was killed one year after the picture was taken, along with his parents. I have tried to remove it, but no matter what I do, it sticks. On the other side, is a picture of my cat Felix. He is brown with white markings on his paws and the tips of his ears. Felix has, ironically, jade eyes.
I found him in Maryland, while visiting my friend. One day, we were walking in a park and there he was, just sitting there on a grassy hill. He followed us home, and I could not bear to leave him outside. He lived with us for a month. When I returned home, I paid the airline extra for him to be aboard the plane. My parents were rather shocked when I got off the plane, and a little upset, but they let me keep him. My mother wanted to put a picture of me in the locket, but I resisted, complaining it would look conceited. Therefore, Felix was put in instead.
To pass the time I pulled out my video camera from my backpack. Turning it on, I began to record, moving the screen over the platforms. The camera saw a group of little children hanging onto a distressed mother who was looking for her tickets, a man picking his nose, and someone taking a group photo.
I had just gotten to platform nine when I spotted something, or rather, someone.
It was Harry Potter, the guy from my old school. His black hair was still messy, he wore rather large clothes, and his intense green eyes still stood out marvelously from behind his glasses. He had a strange scar on his forehead like a lightning bolt. He rather looked like me. I have dark brown, curly shoulder-length hair and bright aqua eyes, not exactly green, once concealed behind glasses; I got contacts as soon as I found that I needed them, in eighth grade. My height is 5' 5", I have a fading tan, and freckles enhance my eyes. Some teachers thought we were siblings. When someone would ask, we would stare at each other, as if the other was some space alien. Then we would shake our heads, not seeing any resemblance. 'He is a boy', I would think. 'Do they think I look like a boy?' Now I can see the similarities. Maybe we are related after all.
When he was in my third grade class, he somehow climbed on the roof of the building so fast no one even saw him. Harry stopped coming to school though. I heard through the grapevine that he now went to St. Brutis' School of Criminal Boys. He always seemed like a nice boy, I do not know why he went there. His cousin Dudley on the other hand was awful. The bully had picked on anyone who was smaller than he was which everyone was! He looked just like his enormous father and nothing like his slim mother; both were unpleasant.
Harry seemed to be waiting as well, his right arm slumped over a large trolley and his left holding a cage with… a snow owl inside. He must be sixteen now, as I am. On his left standing ten feet away was Mr. Dursley, huge as ever. The whale-like man appeared to be ignoring Harry, who was doing the same.
My curiosity got the better of me once again. I zoomed in a little more. Harry was watching the clock hanging from the ceiling, which read nine thirty-five. Mr. Dursley was scarlet and repeatedly straightened his bowtie.
I waited for a minute and then began to move the camera away when a girl with huge bushy hair bounded up to Harry and hugged him, followed by a sea of red. It was a group of people, all with bright red hair, consisting of all boys except for two girls. Mr. Dursley at this point took off toward the nearest exit. One of the boys approached Harry and they exchanged greetings. I could almost make out what they were saying …Hog…Grim wall…Black…Dursleys…Dumb door. Why they were talking about dumb doors and walls was beyond me.
Then they did something that I could never have expected.
Harry Potter glanced around before he turned his trolley towards the brick wall. He motioned for the boy next to him and he wheeled around his trolley as well. On the trolley was a tiny owl twittering about in a rusty cage. Harry nodded to the rest of the group. Then he and the boy both ran straight at the wall. I gasped, sure they was going to crash. At the last moment, however, Harry and the teen vanished into the divider.
Convinced I was going mad, I waited for them to appear, but they did no such thing. Another red head jerked his head at the brick. In moments, he and the bushy haired girl also disappeared through the wall. Two by two, the entire group departed. My eyes, I am sure, were big as saucers. Slowly I checked to see if the camera was still recording. It was. I hurriedly pressed the rewind button and then play.
There on my camera was proof that a group of people vanished! I stashed the camera away in my purple backpack and jumped up from my seat. I have to get over there. My friend has the directions to get to my house; I will be right back.
My feet began to jog over to platform nine. Eyes were watching me but I ignored them and proceeded toward the brick divider. Once there I leaned against the stone breathing heavily. So, they just dissolved into the atmosphere did they? Well, I think something magical happened. Careful to watch for prying eyes, I slid against the wall more. They went into the wall. I can too. I readied myself and pushed into the wall as hard as I could. There was a soaring sensation before I fell onto slick pavement.
A train whistled obnoxiously a little ways away from where I was sprawled on the floor. Above me, a sign said, 'Platform nine and three-quarters.' Three-quarters? There is no such thing! I stood up quickly and looked around me. People were bustling about, many teenagers and children were present. It appeared the teenagers were going somewhere. Some of the parents looked joyful, others looked downright miserable to see their kids off. Many of the people were wearing medieval robes and some were even wearing pointed hats. Was this some sort of convention?
I spotted Harry ten yards away with the large group around him. The man who looked to be the father of the red heads was helping load the trolleys onto the train. The man returned a few moments later.
Harry hugged everyone once again and followed the brown-headed girl and red haired boy and girl to the train.
My mind caught between two decisions; get on the train and follow Harry, or get out of here. For a moment, I pondered this. Finally, the second choice was more appealing. I walked up to the wall and tried to go back. Immediately, an alarm began to shriek.
Everyone froze, a few people screamed. Over the wailing alarm, a voice on a loudspeaker called, "security breach. Everybody stay calm." They did not say who passed through their security, but people began to panic. A few yelled, "It's you-know-who! Run for your lives!" This seemed to push everyone over the edge, and there was mass chaos.
At first I found that quite interesting. And funny. "You-know-who?" What absurd kind of name is that?
Parents began to stream into the train looking for their children. Others ran for the brick wall only to find it sealed off. A couple of adults glanced at each other and disappeared with a loud 'pop'. Teenagers were flooding out of the train. Most of the adults and some of the teens were holding sticks. What good would that do?
This officially weirded me out. I was definitely not in the right place. These people were semi-weirdo costume show people, so I did not belong there for sure.
I, on the other hand, crept toward the closest doors on the train. Maybe I was the security breach. That would mean they would be looking for me! People were disappearing left and right, it was like a madhouse. I freaked out. What is this? Magic? What is going on?! Racing up the stairs, I flew down the hall and into the last compartment, paying no notice to its occupants. I slid down the wall and settled to sitting on the lightly carpeted floor. If one were to look in, I could not be seen.
Screams and footsteps continued outside the sliding door for twenty more minutes before order restored and the wailing sirens ceased. Right when my heart rate began to slow, a cold voice called out. "Who are you?"