AUTHOR'S NOTE: The entry for the Dragonkin species in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them was written by Zachariasofborg, and the Dragonkin species is his creation. I take no credit for either.

Chapter 4 – Last Train Out From Looneyville

The weeks leading up to my departure for Hogwarts were... eventful.

As predicted, Matilda had an absolute cow when I brought home the owl, going off on licenses for keeping the thing and how it was going to aggravate Dad's allergies (anything with fur or feathers makes him puff up like a Hutt). Dad insisted it wasn't a big deal as long as it stayed in my room, but the fee for the license to keep the bird would come out of my allowance. Ah well, small price to pay in my opinion.

Hillary had some pretty vocal complaints of her own regarding Ben Kenobi (what I eventually ended up naming the bird) sharing roomspace with her, and my younger siblings left off stealing and mutilating my Star Wars collection in favor of tormenting the owl by banging on his cage and yelling at him (he's not a parrot, kids, he's not going to talk back). Once I even came into the bedroom to find Indy sticking the BBQ tongs through the bars in an attempt to snag some of his tail feathers. I honestly do not know how poor Kenobi survived to the beginning of term.

On the plus side, he was really easy to take care of. I just had to open his cage and the bedroom window nightly to let him hunt, keep his water dish full and clean, and change the papers in the bottom of the cage. Mr. Weasley had bought a few bags of some kind of owl treats, but for the most part these were just occasional snacks or rewards for bringing the mail or leaving his castings (you know, those pellets they cough up with bones and other indigestible stuff in them) on Hillary's bed.

And yes, he did bring the mail – or at least my mail. My Star Wars Insider magazine and fantasy-themed catalogues no longer came through the mail slot with the rest of the family's snail-mail, but in the claws of Ben Kenobi (how he got them in the first place, I'm still not sure). And I found frequent letters from Mr. Weasley dropped on my pillow, inquiring about such diverse and thrilling topics as how vacuum cleaners worked and what was the purpose of a hood ornament on a car. I guess he figured that, so long as he had the address of a willing Muggle family, he might as well get what he could from it.

After about six such letters, a letter arrived from the same address – someplace called "the Burrow" – but written in a different hand:

If Dad's getting too annoying for you, just give him something big and Muggle-related to boggle his mind for awhile. Trust me, it works. Mum got him to shut up for two weeks straight by asking him to find out where missing socks went in a Muggle washing machine.

Fred Weasley

P.S. This letter will self-destruct in 3... 2... 1...

And the letter burst into multi-colored confetti in my fingers. I had to admit, Mr. Weasley's son had style.

So I wrote a "helpful" letter to Mr. Weasley, giving him a complete plot synopsis of the entire Star Wars movie series and a brief overview of the Expanded Universe. That must have done the trick, because I didn't hear back from him for the rest of the summer.

It wasn't just my owl that attracted my siblings' attentions – three days after coming home from Diagon Alley, Matilda found Apollo using my wand as a baton while he pretended to be conducting the Spongebob Squarepants theme song. Though absolutely nothing happened (the wand wouldn't work for him), she freaked out and cornered my dad, and that evening he dragged a trunk up into my room and ordered me to pack all my magic items up in it. That was the first and last time I was ever grateful to one of the brats for messing with my stuff... and it also gave me a chance to conceal some of my more valuable collectibles along with my Hogwarts supplies.

While the rest of the siblings puttered around, killing time until the end of the summer holiday, I spent a lot of time in my room reading, eschewing Darth Bane in favor of Hogwarts, A History and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. You have to understand, when I read any book I don't just skim – by the time I'm done with a book, it's in worse shape than a pay-phone's directory book. I dog-ear pages I want to come back to, I highlight and underline passages that pique my fancy or make me ponder, I jot notes in the margins, and I've even been known to correct spelling errors or cross out passages I dislike. This is precisely the reason why Matilda never lets me read the books she's written – not because she thinks I'm too young for their content, but because the one time a copy of Gothic Summer fell into my hands I'd Xed out so many horrible passages the remaining text would have made a pamphlet.

One of the most heavily marked sections in Hogwarts, A History was the section detailing the four Houses of Hogwarts. By now I'd decided that, seeing as I hadn't the patience or sense of fairness of a Hufflepuff or the pure blood preferred by Slytherin, I would most likely end up in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. I also, for the pure fun of it, jotted down the names of the major Star Wars characters and tried to decide which Houses they belonged to. Darth Sidious in Slytherin was pretty much a gimmie, as was Luke and Leia in Gryffindor. Obi-wan and both Fetts struck me as Ravenclaws, Qui-gon and Yoda as Hufflepuffs. I couldn't decide whether to put Vader in Gryffindor or Slytherin, so I just put his name under both and decided I could cross one or the other out when I decided for sure.

As for Fantastic Beasts... well, if I'd had any clue that this many magic beasts actually existed, I'd have gone outside more often in my life. Not just your typical dragons and unicorns and centaurs, either – who'd ever heard of such creatures as Kneazles, Thestrals, Bowtruckles, Nifflers, and Puffskeins? I'd highlighted many of the creatures I wanted to see someday, including all the dragon species. Hey, dragons rock – even George Lucas stuck 'em in Star Wars, c'mon.

One entry in particular caught my eye – that of the Dragonkin. Partly because it was a draconian species, but mostly because it mentioned my home country. I perused the section several times:

DRAGONKIN – XXXXX (This classification is given due to the fact that Dragonkin are not mindless beasts, but highly intelligent creatures)

Physical Description:

Dragonkin are just as the name would imply – what would appear at first glance to be a dragon crossed with a human. They are bipedal, range in height from six to seven feet tall, and sport scale colors in various shades of green, brown, blue and red. Their scales also have a resistance to weaker spells, but a more powerful spell, such as Stupefy, still has some effect on them. Their heads are framed by two large ear-like fins that stick out at an angle from the sideS of their heads, accompanied by two horns. They have large wings – the average span being about twenty feet – giving them great flight capability. Their arms and hands are almost identical to those of a human, excepting the fact that they have claws at the end of their fingers. Also, like their giant relatives, they have the ability to breathe fire. Many Dragonkin use a base magic to form these flames into spheres about the size of a Bludger, and then handle them as if they were a normal ball. These fireballs can be breathed or thrown with pin-point accuracy.

History :

Dragonkin are the most recently discovered magical creature on the planet; but how they kept themselves secluded for this long is an amazing feat. Native to the Americas, this species finally revealed itself to the wizarding community after apparently watching us and the rest of the world for centuries. With an average of one or two communities in each state, they cloaked themselves with complex magics, including Muggle and wizard repelling charms. They finally "allowed" themselves to be discovered by a wizard in Idaho, who, while hiking in the forest near his home in search of potion ingredients, suddenly found himself face to face with a young member of the species, the decided delegate from the nearest colony. He fainted immediately in shock. After being revived by the delegate, he asked the wizard to take him to the nearest wizarding government for introductions. Since that point, many talks have taken place between wizard and Dragonkin kind. Apparently, they decided that we were now "mature" enough to interact with their kind.

Habitat and Society:

Most Dragonkin communities are located in the dead center of large tracts of wilderness around the continents; climate is no matter to the species. All members of the Dragonkin species can harness magic, each, when they come of age at the age of twenty, crafting their own wand. Most Dragonkin dwellings are a patchwork of old and new techniques and styles, as the outside world learns new things, they use what is learned as needed. Technology is used by many Dragonkin, bought from Muggles while under various disguise charms, and then modified so they will be of further use to the Dragonkin. Most Dragonkin have a chance to learn much about the world over the course of their lives, as the average lifespan is three hundred years, though in some cases even longer. Clothing is a norm, usually designed after either current Muggle or Wizard fashion. The Dragonkin have an almost instinctual love for music of any kind, and nearly every member of the community can play one instrument or another with skill.

I'd highlighted the entire entry and scribbled a note in the margin – "Typical that I'd only find out about these things AFTER I've left the country, now I'll never see one."

A week before the start of term, Kenobi buzzed in through the bedroom window, dive-bombed Hillary and made her shriek and drop her glamor magazine, and dropped an envelope in my lap. Inside I found a train ticket for the Hogwarts Express, leaving at eleven AM on the first of September. This I handed over to Dad, figuring he'd know how to get me there.

"Platform Nine-and-three-quarters?" he read aloud, tilting the ticket on its side as if expecting the text to change. "Um... never heard of that. They really must do things differently in England..."

"I've been to King's Cross," Matilda said testily over proofreading her latest manuscript. "There is no Platform Nine-and-three-quarters."

I shrugged. "Maybe it's a test of some kind. You know, an entrance exam to get into Hogwarts."

"A mathematical riddle, huh?" Dad pulled a calculator out of his pocket and began punching numbers. "I'm good at these. Let's see what I can do with 9.75 here..."

"What's Daddy doing?" asked Egyptus, standing up on tiptoe to peer at the calculator.

"Trying to figure out where Platform Nine-and-three-quarters is," I replied, rolling my eyes. Trust Dad to expect their to be a logical answer to a magical question.

Break...

It was the night before the start of term at Hogwarts, and I was stuffing the last few items into my trunk. In the morning we would wake up bright and early, pile into the van, and take the three-and-a-half hour drive to London and King's Cross. Dad still hadn't figured out the riddle of Platform Nine-and-three-quarters, but I was pretty sure we'd find an answer at the train station.

Hillary was downstairs whining to Matilda and Dad, demanding to know why she had to go to the train station with everyone else and why couldn't she just stay home, so luckily I didn't have to deal with her as I packed to go. Instead, Egyptus was sitting on Hillary's bed, kicking her legs and clutching her Beanie Baby unicorn as she watched me toss socks into my trunk and agonize over which collectibles would come with me to Hogwarts and which would have to brave out the elements at home. It was a tough decision – I had to take my books and equipment, after all, and I could only sacrifice so many clothes...

"Where you going again?" asked Egyptus.

"Hogwarts," I replied, finally choosing Original Trilogy Collection Boba Fett over General Grievous Wheel Bike Transformer. "It's a magic school. I'm going to learn to be a witch."

"Oh."

I haven't talked much about Egyptus yet, but I have to admit that of all my half-siblings, she's probably the one I like the best. She's awfully smart for her age, and though no one in the family is as big a Star Wars fan as me, she likes the movies and will watch them with me without making snarky comments or screaming at the screen. And though I've caught her swiping my collectibles on occasion, I've yet to find any evidence that she was responsible for any mutilations, dismemberments, or other damages to my collection. If it wasn't for her fascination with the Disney princesses and all the accompanying frills and trappings, I'd make a geek out of her on the spot.

"Are you going to wear black?" she asked. "And a pointy hat? And ride a broom with a black cat?"

"No cat," I told her. "My school robes are black, but I saw witches wearing other colors in Diagon Alley. Not sure about the broom yet."

"Oh." She watched as I rolled up a Vader poster and tucked it into the trunk. "When will you be back?"

"I might be home for Christmas," I told her. "If not, next summer."

Her lower lip began to quiver. "That's a really long time!"

"Hey," I told her gently, "it won't be that long, kiddo. Trust me. You're starting school too this year, so you'll be really busy this year. And before you know it we'll both be home for summer."

"But who's gonna read me stories?" she asked petulantly. It was a nightly ritual for me to sneak into her bedroom at night and read her a chapter of whatever fantasy or sci-fi novel I happened to be reading at the time. While other kids grow up with the Bernstein Bears and Clifford the Big Red Dog, Egyptus much preferred Frodo Baggins and Ford Prefect.

"Maybe Dad can get you some audiobooks if you ask," I suggested.

She sniffed. "It won't be the same."

I got up from my trunk and went to the bed, giving Egyptus a giant hug. "I'll miss you too, Egyptus. But I'll still write. Tell you what – I'll write you a special letter every week, okay? I'll even have Kenobi drop it right on your bed in the morning. How does that sound?"

She smiled at that. "I'd like that. You gonna e-mail too?"

"I can't. The book says computers and other Muggle machines don't work on Hogwarts' grounds. But I'll write every week, remember."

She tried to put on a brave face. "Okay."

I went back to my bed, found my stuffed Chewbacca, and gave it to her. "And I'm giving you a special assignment," I told her in a solemn voice. "I'm charging you with keeping an eye on Chewie. Can you do that?"

She nodded and squeezed both him and the unicorn against her chest. "Okay."

Once I was sure I couldn't wedge another pair of socks or action figure into my trunk, I locked it up and shoved it against the foot of my bed. Then I opened the bedroom window and flipped open Kenobi's cage so he could hunt. Hopefully he'd stuff himself enough to satisfy himself for the trip.

"Can I sleep in here tonight?"

"You have to ask Dad."

"Okay." She slid off the bed and ran out.

I sighed and took one last, long look around my room before going to my dresser to change into pajamas. I had a feeling I was jumping off a cliff and into a lake without knowing how deep the water was. I just hoped I didn't break my neck in this venture.

Break...

Ah, yes, the car ride to the train station. The final few hours where I could visit with my family as a normal human being before boarding the Hogwarts Express and beginning my journey to witchification. The moments that would be my last impressions of my parents and siblings, the memories I would carry with me for the next nine months.

"Stop sticking your finger in my ear, Dipstick!"

"Scoot over, you're squashing me!"

"Am not!"

"Are so! You're sitting on my leg!"

"Okay, who spit on me!"

"Jeff, turn down your headphones! I can hear them from up here!"

"But Dad, I can't hear over the brats otherwise!"

"Mama, I have to go potty!"

"You should have gone before we left!"

"Emily, keep your stupid lightsaber on your own side!"

"It's not on your side!"

"It's totally poking me in the ribs!"

"Oh, I can't wait until I get back from Hogwarts so I can turn you into a chicken..."

"Kilenya's dropped a stinkbomb again!"

"Gimmie my Gameboy back!"

"It's my turn!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Okay, so there wouldn't be any cozy loving memories of my family from this road trip. Just the typical squabbling and screaming. By the time we got to King's Cross, loaded my trunk and Kenobi's cage onto a luggage trolley, pried Logan's Gameboy Advance out of Indy's paws, and changed Kilenya, I was more than willing to get on the train.

"There's Platform Nine," Dad noted. "And there's Platform Ten. So Platform Nine-and-three-quarters would be..." He counted the steps between the platforms, did a little math in his head, and picked a point about three-quarters of the way from Platform Nine to Platform Ten. "Should be here."

Matilda sighed. "There's nothing there. I told you this all had to be a sham..."

"Dad, do you expect there to be a logical answer when magic's involved?" I asked him.

"Emily, even magic needs to have some logic to it," he insisted. "Come on, stand here. Maybe you'll be teleported, or maybe a train will come that only you can see..."

I grudgingly pushed the trolley to that spot and waited. I tried closing my eyes, muttering different incantations I'd found in my school books, discreetly waving my wand, even clicking my heels together. Nothing.

"Where's the train?" asked Egyptus, looking around.

"Yeah, it leaves in fifteen minutes," Jefferson pointed out.

"If it's not here by eleven, we'll go home and send a letter to Mr. Weasley," Dad suggested. "Until then, let's just sit tight..."

I have to admit I was getting nervous by this time. No Platform Nine-and-three-quarters, no Hogwarts Express... was Matilda right, and this was all some colossal prank? Would some idiots with cameras jump out of nowhere and announce that we were the butt of a huge joke that would be aired on British TV? And worse, how had I managed to swallow this whole thing hook, line, and sinker?

"There's got to be other Hogwarts kids here," I muttered, refusing to believe I'd been played for a fool. "Someone look around for someone else with an owl..."

"Apollo, Athena, stop that right now!" screeched Matilda, trying to catch the twins as they sped by, Athena pushing a luggage trolley with her brother sitting on it. Apollo had spilled soda on himself during the car ride and was consequently shirtless, his chest and arms smeared with blue and purple marker stains. He waved at us as Athena pushed him along... or was dragged along, as it became apparent that she'd lost control of the trolley by now.

"Kids!" Dad snapped, lunging out to grab the trolley that was now hurtling at the dividing barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. He wasn't quite in time, and the twins looked to be bracing themselves for a collision...

No collision. They just vanished.

Matilda screamed.

Dad stared at the barrier, his mouth open like a yawning hippo. I turned to look at the other kids – Hillary and Jefferson were also gaping, and Indy and Egyptus were applauding and laughing. Kilenya and Logan gave no reaction, Kilenya being too young to understand what was going on and Logan being too absorbed with his game.

"Where are they?!" Matilda screamed. "My babies!"

"Honey, calm down..." Dad said soothingly.

At that instant Athena and Apollo emerged from the barrier again, minus cart, both wearing stunned expressions. Matilda burst into tears and hugged them tightly, almost smothering them.

"Oh, my babies!" she cried.

"Mom, leggo!" snapped Athena.

"Well?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

"There's a lot of people in there," Apollo replied, wriggling out of Matilda's grasp. "And owls and cats and a big red train, and a big metal sign that says Platform Nine-and-three-quarters..."

I turned the trolley around and set off for the barrier.

"Emily?" Dad sounded very unsure.

"It's my platform, Dad," I told him. "And my train leaves pretty quick."

He hugged me close. "Be sure to write, okay?"

"I will."

"And let me know if you have any problems."

"Okay."

"I'll try to keep your collection out of your siblings' hands, okay?"

"I'd appreciate that."

"See ya, squirt," Jefferson told me, hooking an arm around my neck and giving me a noogie.

"I'll send you more of that blue powder if I can," I told him.

"Write me EVERY week!" Egyptus demanded.

"I won't forget," I told her.

And I pushed the trolley through the barrier.

A moment of darkness... and a gleaming red locomotive sat next to a packed platform, steam wafting around it as if it had just emerged from a swamp or the abyss. Kids pushed luggage carts around, adults in robes or street clothes hugged their children goodbye, owls complained to each other as their cages were hauled aboard, and a LOT of cats were underfoot as I made my way to the train. An empty trolley lay overturned next to a stack of suitcases, and a couple of kids were still staring at Apollo and Athena's vehicle with bemused expressions.

Right behind me a gaggle of kids burst through the barrier – siblings from the look of it, seeing as they all had red hair and freckles. There was something oddly familiar about their faces...

"Jolly good show, Fred! That stuffy Muggle lady'll never know what hit her when she opens her purse next..."

"Fred?" I turned to face the speakers.

The two kids standing behind me could have been clones, man – the only way I could tell them apart right now was that one of them was currently holding a paper bag in one hand. Upon seeing me the one with the bag flashed a big grin and bowed cheerily.

"You called me, ma'am?"

"You're Fred Weasley? The one who sent me that exploding letter this summer?"

"If you're Emily Wall, then I'm Fred Weasley," he replied. "If you're not Emily Wall, I'm just a dashing stranger."

"Yes, I'm Emily," I told him. I turned to face the other. "You?"

"George Weasley, glad to meet you."

"That lady you were talking about – did she have a load of kids with her?"

"Yes she did," Fred replied.

"I must say, I hope the bare-chested one opens her purse first," George put in.

"That was my stepmom."

The twins didn't look the slightest bit abashed. "We pity you, girl," was Fred's reply.

I laughed. "I like you two. Nice to meet you." I extended my hand. "What exactly did you put in her purse?"

"It's called a Dungbomb, milady," George replied, shaking my hand. "Just as the name implies, of course."

The two young men behind the twins rolled their eyes.

"Oh, and forgive us for not introducing our brothers!" Fred gestured behind him. "This is Charlie, he's Head Boy at Hogwarts."

"This is Percy." George pointed to the other boy. "Wants to be a prefect, and lets you know five times a day..."

"Oh, be quiet," Percy snapped.

The train whistle went off, and the twins quit talking and hauled their trunks on board. Once their luggage was stowed away, they helped me carry my trunk and Kenobi's cage. Percy and Charlie were left to haul their own luggage.

Fred, George, and I found a compartment and sat down as the Hogwarts Express set off. I leaned back in my seat, feeling about ready to wriggle out of my skin with excitement. Look out Hogwarts, an American geek is about to take you by storm!

I glanced out the window... just in time to see a cloaked form jog out onto the platform, dragging a suitcase and a long-haired striped cat tagging at its heels. The cloaked being stopped at the edge of the platform and stared after the departing train, intense green eyes staring out from the dark recesses of a hooded cloak.

Weird. Who is that? And why would he want on the train?