Just for the record, I didn't come up with this stuff. Someone else did. But I sue did use it for some laughs. Oh, yeah-Mandy is mine. All mine. muahhaha

I stood by the luggage area, and became curious as to a nearby, very attractive boy's origin.

"Age?"

"Sixteen. You?"

"Fifteen. English?"

"Yer, you?"

"Canadian."

"Airport visit because?"

"My father had business to attend to. You?"

"Going to a…school."

"When does the schooling start?"

"September 1st."

"That's today."

"No shit."

"Where?"

"No idea. Just got a…ticket."

"To where?"

"The school."

"Where's the school?"

"No idea."

"What time it leave?"

"11:00."

"Platform?"

"Why?"

"Curious, I have to go to school then too."

"Oh…Uh, not sure."

"Give it up, platform 9 ¾?"

"Hmm?"

"So it is." He looked around, gestured to an individual across the building, and said "I'll be on the Hogwarts Express. See you there."

"What the -? What kind of an idiot are you?" I grabbed my ticket from my jean pocket, and glanced at it, then again-and read it twice, urging myself to try to be polite, no matter the circumstance.

"An idiot that is going to be on the same train as me tomorrow morning."

My god he was fine. With platinum blonde hair and a pair of icy, baby blues that just melted you on the spot he could make you lose yourself in his smell.

It was then that my tiredness set in. All I wanted was somewhere to sit down, to eat, and to listen to some Frankie. I needed some kind of sustenance.

"I'm not gonna make you stay here, just tell me how to get to platform 9 ¾, ok? I don't know much-but I do know that I've never heard of fractions in a platform for a train."

"Walk through a wall."

"What?"

"Walk through a wall." He was smirking, and I saw him check me out again, but a bit more closely. His eyes rested on the more intriguing parts of my body. I sighed, all too used to it.

"I don't think so."

"Literally."

"Fuck, no." I was sick, tired, and wanted instructions that didn't include getting a concussion in front of a whole bunch of onlookers.

"Do I-"

"Yeah-ok," I reprimanded I was irritable, having just endured a forever-lasting plane ride to England only to find a smug boy asking if it hurt when I fell from heaven. The excitement of thinking that they were a North American virus faded from my mind, and I put up my guard immediately.

I began to feel a building regretful what I'd said to the good-looking boy, so I complimented him on his jeans in what I thought was a kindly voice before I hurried away to pick up my luggage.

Having waited for the crowd to disperse, I immediately grabbed my belongings and rushed for the nearest payphone, where I hastily called a taxi, after asking to borrow a coin from a random Brit. I had no cash, seeing as I was used to the Canadian dollar, which I thought was supremely normal compared to this pence business.