A/N: I've wondered about this for a bit and decided to jot down one possible scenario on Tumblr. My Tumblr, by the way, is summerisbittersweet dot tumblr dot com. I post pictures, odd thoughts, reblogs, sometimes "chapter pictures" for a work in progress...that sort of thing.
So here is a moment in the life of Pomona Sprout, who got stuck on Platform Duty one morning. I have not really edited it from what I jotted down before, so . . . it's just here. lol
Platform Duty
"Mum! Did you see what happened? That girl, that one there, with the brown hair and the orange cat?"
"Robin, there is no girl with an orange cat, though I commend your color awareness."
Pomona knew that the girl with the orange "cat" was in fact Hermione Granger, Gryffindor, and the girl had, of course, gone through to the magical side of Platform 9 ¾. Miss Granger was a good girl, to be sure, but it was likely her half-kneazel had distracted her and so …
Pomona surreptitiously drew her wand and made her meandering way toward the far-too-observant Muggle boy.
"No, really, Mum. She just ran right through it! Right here! I'll show you!"
Pomona winced when Molly Weasley bustled up, her brood about her like the Giant Squid's tentacles, flailing about and catching everyone's attention. "Ronnie! Go on, follow your brother!"
Pomona brought herself between Ronald Weasley and Platform 9 ¾ Muggle side. "Wait, Mister Weasley."
"Oi, Professor! Mum said—"
Pomona pushed the third year student aside as the Muggle boy, Robin, made a headlong run straight at the brick wall. Pomona tried, but, short of Apparating, she couldn't outrace the lad and he hit the wall with a solid thunk to his head.
"Merlin!" Pomona muttered, hurrying as fast as she could to the lad's side. His parents were distracted by someone they knew, so she worked quickly.
"Concussion. And that cut, there." Pomona was an Herbologist, but the Healing Arts were a pet interest as well, and she'd helped Poppy often during busy seasons in the Infirmary. She finished with a quick "Obliviate," and a swish of her wand, all whilst Ronald Weasley gaped at her.
"Professor?" her student whispered.
"Help the Muggle up," Pomona directed. "Ask if he knows how to get to Piccadilly from here."
"Picca-what?"
"Just. Ask." Pomona rolled her eyes. Did boys always have to question directions? "Robin?" she said kindly as she and Ronald Weasley pulled the boy to his feet. "All right there? That bit of the platform's rather unreliable."
"Oi! D'you know how to get to Pick-a-Dilly?" Ronald asked slowly, rubbing at his head. "Lookin' fer it, you know, and I—" His face grew red with the obvious strain of making up a tale.
"Robin? Robin, love, Aunt Cathy wanted to see the tie—oh, hello."
Pomona almost leaned against the wall in her relief as she and her student exchanged glances.
"Oi, Mum! Do you know how to get to Piccadilly?" the boy called, jumping up to see his parents.
"Thank you, Mister Weasley," Pomona said on a breath. "Now get on the train. I'm on Platform Duty 'til you lot are safely away."
As all his siblings had gone before, Ron gave her a crooked smile and dashed off through to Platform 9 ¾ in the Wizarding manner.
"Oh, Mummy! Did you see that? Right here, that boy went right through—"
Pomona groaned quietly and rolled her eyes. "Severus owes me for this."
A/N: I know. I need a new hobby, right?
