Near Platforms Nine and Ten

Standing by the ticket barrier at Kings Cross Station, I shifted impatiently from my right foot to my left. After all those years of waiting and planning and learning about Hogwarts, I was now mere feet away from the train that would deliver me to the site of my revenge. But I had to wait a little longer, for Moran to load our luggage onto a trolley and push it all the way through the crowds to where I waited.

I glanced surreptitiously from side to side, checking to see if any Muggles had their eyes on me. No one did, but there was no sign of Moran either. Why is he taking so long? I stared at my watch as if it would make him hurry up: I couldn't wait for him any longer.

I had just decided to brave platform nine and three-quarters myself, leaving Moran to find his own way, when he was suddenly at my side, stepping with me through the ticket barrier. Where did he come from? I was so thrown by his sudden appearance that I missed the reputedly wonderful moment of appearing on the other side of the barrier and catching that first glimpse of the magical platform. Still, I couldn't help but feel a childish sense of curiosity and excitement when I registered the mass of people crowded around a massive scarlet steel train, billowing steam, ready to begin the journey to Hogwarts.

Shaking off my traitorous emotions, I turned to the older boy beside me. "Tell me, Moran. How are you able-"

I cut myself off, remembering my resolution to keep a tight hold over my own feelings, to concentrate on my own business and not inquire over anyone else's. I waved my hand, dismissing my own statement, and Moran didn't pry. I shook my head, trying to convince myself I wasn't intrigued by Moran's stealth, or the platform, or anything other than my task. I hated nosy people. The idea that I could be anything like that myself left a very sour taste in my mouth.

As I made my way through the throng of people, Moran in my wake, my stomach jolted unpleasantly as I saw various families saying goodbye. A boy my age wept as he embraced his parents tightly, clearly not wanting to let go. Huffing, I averted my eyes only to see more teary expressions, more loving hugs and kisses. A part of me that I had lost long ago… no, I corrected myself, it was stolen from me. I just wanted it to stop… why did everyone have to make me feel worse than I already did for the past four years of my life?

I willed myself to ignore the people around me and focus on the train. People jostled me as I pushed through the crowd and finally reached the train's outer edge. I quickly wiped away tears that had built up in the corners of my eyes at some point; thankfully, Moran didn't seem to notice. He pointed a hand, red from the exertion of pushing our trolley across Kings Cross, indicating the door of the nearest carriage.

Stepping through the door, I left Moran to struggle to load our trolley onto the train and started to make my way down the corridor, peering into each compartment. Each one seated four students, and many of them were already filled. The last thing I wanted was to squeeze into a compartment with a bunch of kids and be forced to make conversation about how wonderful Hogwarts would be. Unfortunately, it was starting to look as if I might not have a choice in the matter.

I was cursing under my breath, still unable to find a compartment I liked, when Moran caught up with me. I immediately cut the language; Moran was never tolerant with cursing for some reason. On more than one occasion he had threatened to make me wash my tongue with soap if he ever caught me in the act of swearing, and the image of the older boy forcing me to do exactly that was frightening enough for me to relent, even if I wasn't sure if he would actually be brave enough to follow through on his promise.

Moran, fortunately, found an empty compartment for us at the very back of the train. I sat down in the far corner and felt rather than saw Moran plant himself beside me. Annoyed at the slight contact, I turned to him and opened my mouth to order him into the seat across from me, but cut myself off when the compartment door began to slide open.

A girl with a black bob of hair and vivid green eyes stood in the doorway, flanked on one side by a small brown-haired boy. The girl stared for a moment, then nodded to herself as if making a decision, and pulled the door open the rest of the way. My eyes followed her every movement as she took a couple of steps in, irritated at this stranger who dared intrude my compartment but warring with myself not to show that irritation.

Suddenly, the girl pulled out her wand and my annoyance briefly flared into panic. What the fuck is she-

But she didn't point the wand at me, instead directing it into the air above us, which formed into words.

I'm sorry to impose, but may we sit in this compartment? There aren't any more seats left...

I blinked. A mute… and a midget, I thought as my gaze shifted to the boy, who had to be several inches shorter than I was, and I was no physical specimen myself. Just fantastic. Exactly the traveling companions I wanted.

I shot a glance at Moran, willing him to tell these interlopers to shove off, but either he misunderstood my expression or he disagreed with me, because he turned straight to the girl, relaxed his posture, and said brightly, "Of course! We don't mind."

So the strangers made their way inside our compartment and sat down. I pointedly faced the window as the boy took the seat opposite me, leaving the girl to sit opposite Moran. Moran immediately struck up an oddly one-sided conversation with the girl – who, I figured, was using that air-writing spell to reply. The other boy didn't join in and neither did I. Being in a room with people other than Moran, who was the one person in the world I trusted, was strange and unnerving.

Abruptly, Moran tapped me on the shoulder and I wheeled in my seat. Smiling languidly at me, he said, "Aerik, aren't you going to greet your classmates? Rowena and Carey – is it Carey?" He directed the question at the boy, who nodded mutely. "Yes – they're both first years as well."

I nearly growled at him. Who was he, to speak to me as a friend, to call me by my first name, to introduce me to people I didn't give a crap about? He would pay later; for now, I contented myself with a glare, then turned to the other two occupants of the compartment.

"Nice to meet you, Rowena, Carey," I said, greeting them in turn with a quick, firm handshake. Rowena flinched, and I knew my annoyance must have shown up on my face, but I couldn't find it in me to care at that moment. The boy named Carey, oddly, didn't flinch. He met my gaze evenly – his eyes were a deep, calming blue – and then looked away, seemingly unconcerned. Intriguing, I thought.

My eyes flickered to Moran again. His smile was gone; evidently, he'd realised his mistake. He quickly painted that smile back on, for appearance's sake, but his eyes now lowered slightly as if in apology.

"Why don't you get all of us some nice treats once the food trolley comes? You're always talking about how enchanting they are," I said airily to Moran. Turning to face Rowena and Carey, I said to them. "Moran's a fourth year, so he knows all about the Hogwarts Express ride. He's also much richer than any of us, being older and all." A bare-faced lie, that last sentence, but the others had no way of knowing. Moran nodded, seeming to agree with my request as a suitable penance.

The food trolley came and Moran bought sweets for all of us. In fact, at a glance from me, he bought all the sweets that remained, since we were in the very last compartment. The vendor, an old man with a moustache curling on its ends, magicked up a table in the centre of the compartment for the sweets to rest on.

"Least I could do," the man said in a gruff but kind voice. "You just bought a full quarter of my stock. Enjoy."

I smiled alongside the others, still inwardly seething at the façade of amiability Moran had forced me into. At least the sweets might shut everyone up for a while. As the man departed, I picked up the green-wrapped sweet nearest to me on the table and popped it into my mouth absently. Nobody talked to me, so I turned my eyes towards the glass window, feigning interest in the countryside farms we were passing by.

The sweet tasted of peppermint, my favourite flavour, but it quickly melted and disappeared from my mouth. More concerningly, a sudden wave of warmth and fatigue overwhelmed me and spread through my body, and my eyes began to slowly close of their own accord. Blinking to force them open, I picked up the green wrapper that I had discarded on the table and read the label: MINTY DOZE. Sleep the trip away!

My slowing brain processes registered that the sweet must be for people who didn't handle long trips well. I dropped the wrapper, my strength sapped, and slumped against the seat. As my eyes closed, for good this time, I saw the girl, Rowena, lean over to catch the wrapper and ask Moran in a stammering voice "D-d-did h-he eat th-that?"

My final, hazy thought was one of surprise. Wait. She can talk?

Then sleep overcame me.