Must Have Been a Dream
By RowanRhys
She sat on the edge of her seat in the train compartment, eyes wide and fingers clenched tightly in her lap as she waited for the train to start, hoping against hope that nothing interrupted the dream. She prayed that she could stay asleep, because, she was positive that, any moment now, her older brother would come banging on her bedroom door, shouting for her to get up if she wanted him to leave her any breakfast and to remember to feed the bloody cat, because he wasn't going to do it.
It was a long dream, but time in dreams was weird--one moment flowing slower than treacle, and another moment, fitting in weeks and months in the course of an afternoon nap. It all started with that lady who appeared at the flat's front door with a letter for her. Stout and cheerful, she smelled faintly of earth and gardens and there appeared to be traces of dirt around her fingernails when she shook hands with the rest of the family.
It must have been a dream because only in dreams did magic happen. Only in dreams did a thin carved stick make a dropped plate whole, and a spoon hover in midair. Only in dreams did one ride the Tube to Charing Cross Road and enter a place that no one else could see, and step through an archway into a street unlike anything she'd ever seen. Goblins eyeing her suspiciously when the witch exchanged pounds sterling for heavy coins called galleons, sickles and knuts. People dressed weirdly and wildly, and talking about potions, charms, a Ministry of Magic, and something odd called Quidditch. A quick stop in a wand shop with the first try being just what she needed, according to the odd fellow who measured her in all sorts of strange ways. Books about fantastic beasts, old magical battles, sentient plants, and spells. Black robes, grey jumpers and knee socks, and a blue tie with what was supposed to be the school crest on it. Funny smelling bits and pieces from an Apothecary, all dropped into a large bellied cauldron that never seemed to fill up with all the purchases that were necessary to attend the magical school.
The sharp rapping of knuckles on wood startled her and she sighed as she waited for the dream to fade away into her brother's harsh and impatient voice.
"Hello, it looks like all the other compartments are full up. May I join you?"
She looked up, wonder in her eyes, at the blue-eyed girl with long sandy blonde plaits falling to her waist, who looked hopefully at her from the compartment door.
"S-sure!" She looked at the empty seat across from her and then back at the girl, smiling. "There's plenty of room."
"Thanks!" A slightly grubby hand was offered. "I'm Louise Barclay."
"I'm Elizabeth Browning." The hand was warm in her grip and, as the train whistled and lurched into a gentle, steady acceleration, she finally dared to believe that it wasn't a wonderful dream--but a wonderful reality.
FINIS (maybe!)