"Mummy, stop running. I can't keep up with you!"
Sophie turned around and through the crowd of serious looking business men, beggars, tourists and shop assistants she saw a small arm grasp for air. She clutched to it quickly and continued running, trying to frantically get to somewhere in a place filled with people more frantic than herself – King's Cross Station! Looking up at a huge clock face that watched from high above, she realised that it was now five to eleven. The crowd was thick, everyone trying to get home, to work or waiting around anxiously for relatives and loved ones. A teenage girl sprinted energetically out of nowhere and leapt into her boyfriend's arms, blocking the pathway for Sophie and Maggie. Making slurpy noises inches away from Sophie's own flourished face; they obscured any view to the platforms behind. Unable to restrain her temper, Sophie nudged past but accidentally prodded a man in a bowler hat. His briefcase dropped and Maggie clumsily fell over it.
"Arrrrgh, mummy!" she squealed, as blood oozed from her knee. Sophie scooped her up and onto her shoulders while continuing to push through the crowd.
"Oi, you there! Look what your brat did to my papers – they're legal documents they are. I can't give my manager a report that has blood smeared on it. Hey you, I want an answer!" yelled the man, his bowler hat skewed and his face vibrating purple.
Sophie looked around for one second to weigh up the situation; the man advanced toward her with a clenched fist.
"Train to catch, sorry!" she half sang and half yelled; smiling cheekily in hope he wouldn't retaliate. She swerved around and all happiness faded from her features. Her heart pounded not only from the running and the weight of her daughter but also the fear of missing her train and the agony of not having time to nurture her daughter's graze.
Like a voice from God the clock chimed eleven slow aching thuds, confirming to Sophie that she was not going to find the correct platform in time. In one last act of desperation she ran up to a large family of red heads, all looking to be rushing in Sophie's direction. Trying to keep up with them was difficult, they looked determined to catch their train and the only thing stopping them was an extremely large amount of old and tattered trunks. Yet they looked friendly enough to ask, unlike most.
Completely out of breath she finally caught up with the eldest woman and had a split second to register her bizarre attire of a patchwork quilted cardigan and skirt made of multicolored layers.
"Ex-ex-cuse me," she panted, her breath strained and tired. "Where's the train to Huh-Huh…"
"Sshhhhh," hissed the woman. "Not so loud. We must be discreet, can't have them finding out. You mustn't attract attention."
Attract attention to what? Sophie thought. It's only a train to Huddersfield! But she concluded that the woman was a little eccentric.
The woman took firm hold of Sophie's arm and pushed her along at a faster pace. Sophie tried to struggle free but the woman was moving too fast. She clung tightly onto Maggie's ankles so that she wasn't bobbing up and down on her shoulders. In a quick glimpse Sophie saw the sign titled "Platform Ten". She was fast approaching it. Not far now, she thought. We will catch the train.
Then in a sudden moment of darkness Sophie felt like she was being sucked into somewhere, lead by this weird woman. She rubbed her eyes several times and saw swirling patterns of colour form around her vision. She shook her head realizing that she was feeling queasy from exhaustion. Determined to sit down and rest Sophie boarded the train. She vaguely noticed it's shape and she forgot to check to see if it was the correct one. Squealing adolescents were hurtling up and down the aisles. They were all in clothes that were nearly as strange as the woman's. She slumped into an old style compartment and slid the door closed, without any further curiosity toward her fellow passengers.
"Mummy we are on a steam train," yelled Maggie, clapping her hands together and giggling with anticipation.
"Don't be silly Maggie, this is just a slightly older train with compartments, but no doubt someone else will want the opposite seat so come here and sit next to me." Sophie motioned Maggie to sit next to her but Maggie persisted on having the window seat.
With a loud churning noise and a great jerk the train was in motion. Sophie's face blanched as she recognized the wispy clouds created by steam. Her daughter was right! If she hadn't been so tired maybe Sophie would have thought longer on the issue, but her eyelids began to droop down and her mind's ability to concentrate grew rapidly weak.
"Mummy what about my knee?" came a faint voice from the distance. Sophie forced herself awake. She looked down at the messy stain on Maggie's leg; the cut itself had stopped bleeding and was beginning to scab over.
"Is it hurting still?" she asked, guessing the wound looked worse than it felt.
"Not really but don't you have a plaster?" Maggie insisted.
"No honey, you're just going to have to bear with it. We'll be home soon, try and sleep." With these comforting words Sophie huddled her daughter closer to her and let herself break free from the shackles of physical existence. She fell asleep almost instantly.
Deep in Sophie's subconscious echoing voices could be heard; they were faint and distant but distinctly child-like. Laughter and giggles brought images of ice creams and playground swings to Sophie's mind juxtaposed together along with other childhood archetypes and all the while the sensation of being pulled along somewhere in motion. One image, a bouncing brown frog, became prominent in Sophie's mind, along with the desire for chocolate. The voices gradually became calmer. The children were no longer shrieking and squealing at each other, like on a high. Now their conversations became understandable, almost realistic inside of Sophie's dream, although their dialogue made no sense.
"She doesn't look much like a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," chimed one voice.
"Neither did Umbridge," replied another in a slightly aggressive manner. "Then again, what did she ever teach us?"
"I don't think she's a teacher at all," said an older, more mature voice. "I think she's a Muggle. Look at this little kid, no students are allowed under eleven at Hogwarts and she's certainly not eleven yet."
"She's got blood all over her knee. Why has her mum not fixed it yet?" said a shrilly voice. Sophie saw in her mind bright eyes and messy curls of ginger hair staring directly at her. The image vanished and was replaced by dozens of bouncing jelly beans of many different colours.
"Well that proves she's not a witch! Even I can fix a small cut like that one," sounded the shrilly little voice. Shuffling was heard and then Sophie saw a stick point right at her, a long vertical one that begun to glow at the tip making her shudder in her sleep.
"They're it all fixed," gleamed the bossy voice.
"You're not supposed to use magic out of school!" lectured the mature voice and Sophie saw a strong hand grasp the wooden stick and yank it out of her view. Her mind began to spin again and everything went out of focus. For a while the voices were distorted, like whispers etching into the back of her brain.
"What's going on in here?" boomed a voice and a sliver of silver slipped through Sophie's mind like a serpent. Panicky pleas could be heard from the younger children.
"We're not doing anything Malfoy, so butt out," yelled one of them with venom.
"Don't you dare be insolent to me!" said the serpent in Sophie's mind. "I'm a prefect and you are just a Gryffindor mudblood."
Horror filled Sophie's mind as she envisioned a pile of burgundy coloured dung. A sharp snap of a door closing was heard and then the children's voices rose in negative energy.
"Heard the rumours? His father is in Azkaban!"
"Yes, I always knew that he was working for You-Know-Who. My parents say he's been trying to get top-secret information from the Ministry. No doubt Draco will continue along the same lines."
"He's a Slytherin after all!"
"Anyway guys its time to get changed into our school robes, let's leave the Muggles in peace." With this Sophie heard thumping, like a herd of elephants were getting up and trudging away from her, followed by another sharp click of the compartment door. This sudden noise was the thing that snapped her back to reality. Once she had awoke, and realised she was on a train, all traces of the children were gone.
Hogwarts, Slytherin, Muggles, Mudbloods, Gryffindors and Azkaban! Sophie knew she had a wild imagination, but this was too extreme. She needed to get a grip on herself – wake up and realise she had no way of paying the electricity bill. She could no longer waste time, like when she was a child, daydreaming of lands far away and big medieval castles. With this reminiscence she looked down at her young daughter who was still sleeping on her lap. Out of the window all Sophie could see were miles and miles of overgrown fields that were rich in green and wildlife. She had no reason to assume this wasn't the correct way; all train journeys looked the same to her. The only thing that truly puzzled her was the old fashioned manner in which she was travelling.
An hour passed and then suddenly the train began to slow down. Sophie jerked her head up attentively, looking out the window for the landmarks of her hometown. This was the first moment when she began to register alarm and wonder if it was possible that she had boarded the wrong train. An ache in her stomach formed when she realised that this diversely rural area, which she had been transported to, was certainly not in Yorkshire. Even the famous moors were trimmed back and controlled by the National Trust. The wildness of this place reminded her of the very north of Scotland, where she had visited only once before. It dawned on her: she was miles from home with no money or transport back. She cursed herself for being so dotty and disorganised at the station and began to assemble her belongings. Maggie stirred, rubbing her eyes and yawning feebly.
This was when she noticed it. Firstly Sophie thought her eyes were deceiving her. Maggie's knee, that had a few hours ago had been so gruesomely bloody, was immaculately untouched. The soft texture was so pristine that it appeared no harm had begotten of it. Again, she thought she had imagined things, or maybe Maggie's fall had just been a part of her dream. Skeptical of accepting the unacceptable, she tried to push it out of her mind.
"Look mum - my knee is better. Did the fairies come and mend it?" said Maggie pointing enthusiastically at her knee. Sophie shuddered to think that this was a reasonable explanation whilst having a vague sense of déjà vu regarding a long wooden twig and a girl with ginger hair.
Before Sophie could ponder the matter further the train came to an abrupt halt. Sophie could see through the compartment window a smudge of people dashing in one direction – to the door. Anxious to leave the train and inform someone of her mistake, Sophie picked up Maggie and cautiously entered the corridor.
"Oi, missus, out of the way!" shouted a boy behind her. She moved and he roughly pushed past. For the second time, Sophie believed her eyes were deceiving her - the boy was wearing a long black tailored cloak. In fact dozens of teenagers were wearing this formal type of uniform. Must be some type of specialist boarding school, Sophie assumed.
The Platform was even more confusing. A plaque informed her she was in a place named "Hogsmeade", which gave her no indication at all on her actual whereabouts. Sighing she searched for someone who could possibly help her. The only answer came from a giant of a man wearing a dirty moleskin jacket with an excessively overgrown mane of hair. He was ordering the students into straight lines, waving his frying pan sized hands in long sweeping movements.
"Where are we mummy? I want to go home," whined Maggie, as she clutched onto a section of Sophie's mousy brown hair.
But before she could answer a skeletal hand grasped Sophie's shoulder and swung her around. Sophie looked into the sunken face and bulging eyes that were aggressively usurping her space. Her first impression was of a book character – Joseph the housekeeper in Wuthering Heights. This man had a frail frame and lanky brown hair. He wore old working clothes comprising of many shades of brown. These maddening features made Maggie immediately curl into Sophie's mass of hair and whimper.
"What are you doing here you silly girl," groaned the man, clenching his fist and quivering with anxiety.
"I'm really sorry, sir. I caught the wrong train and I've no way of getting home. I would have departed at an earlier stop but I must have missed them all," Sophie frantically tried to explain.
"You don't stop once you're on the Hogwarts train," he bellowed. "But you shouldn't been on it in the first place, castle's meant to be protected from your kind."
Sophie looked at him completely flabbergasted. Her eyes grew wide with fear and her daughter was now tense in her arms. This had to be the worst muddle she'd ever made.
"You can take the train back to London on its return trip if you get back on it now," yelled the wicked man.
"Actually Argus that won't be necessary. I have been quite expecting this young lady's arrival," said a smooth and assured voice from behind her.
Sophie turned, not knowing quite what to expect next, dread pulsing through her veins. The image of the man in front of her confirmed something that she had not believed in since she was about Maggie's age – wizards do exist!