It all started on September the first, at King’s Cross station, on platform Nine and three-quarters, with a very audible BANG.

“Sorry, sorry, my bad,” said a tall, blonde haired wizard to a few people, whom had turned their heads to see what was all the ruckus.

Brendan McNiel had been trembling with half excitement, half fear as he pushed his trolley full of luggage towards the Hogwarts Express, not looked where he was going, and crashed headlong into a wall.

He was excited because, not only would this be his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it would be the first time he would be freely allowed to do magic. His mother never let him use magic, except in certain circumstances. His father, on the other hand, didn't know much about magic, being a Muggle, but had been somewhat afraid of magic ever since his newspaper had been turned into a gigantic slug when Brendan was a baby.

Thinking back, Brendan sniggered at the thought. What would dad say, he thought, if he found himself in this place of magic, owls, and loud noises? His father liked the quiet.

Meanwhile, Celia Warner, a black haired, muggle-born witch, was struggling to put her luggage on the train, which included a case of books, clothes, and a very peeved snowy owl in her cage.

"Oh come on, Talia, work with me!" she said to the owl, who was screeching in her cage.

"Okay, okay, ill give you a treat if you cooperate!" she said desperately, sweat forming on her forehead. At this, the owl immediately shut up.