There is no reason that I can see for making Harry arrive at the last minute to King's Cross other than to have him forced into meeting the Weasleys. Also, it is implied that muggleborns get a lot of help integrating into the magical world from Hogwarts staff etc, but what about kids whose parents didn't go to Hogwarts but emigrated to Britain? It makes no sense that there isn't some kind of assistant on hand at King's Cross to help out.
Right, the last chapter was HUGE! Much longer than I had planned, but I felt that Harry leaving the Dursleys was something that needed a bit more attention.
I also realise that I'm over 20,000 words in and the heir of Great House Potter hasn't even got to school yet. Don't fret.
All of the characters except for my own handful of originals, as well as locations, names, titles etc are and remain the property of JKR and I hope you like it.
Principles such as Splicing are mine as well as all unique books, histories, titles, traditions and spells. I give users permission to use them, but only if you reference me in your work.
Review please whether you like it or not. Tell me what you do and do not like and why! I do love having my ego stroked with 'Wow, great!' etc, but it's not as useful for my process as having some real examples and effects.
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Chapter 12: From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.
The Ice cleared from Harry during the drive into London and was steadily replaced with a creeping anticipation that filled him with horror.
He was the heir to a once powerful magical family, raised by ignorant bigots who had tried to crush his innate talent out of him. What if when he arrived at school he was no good?
Thoughts like this wracked him as they passed into the metropolis and increased as he saw the first signs for Euston and King's Cross St. Pancras stations.
Vernon pull over in a drop-off bay and tugged Harry's trunk from the boot of the car then loaded it onto a cart and wheeled it into the station which Harry thought was strangely kind until Vernon turned on him with a nasty grin.
'Here you go then boy. Good luck finding platform nine and three-quarters!' He released a bark of laughter. 'They don't seem to have built it yet, do they?'
Harry looked at the arrival and departures board. There were nines and tens up there, but no nine and three-quarters.
'Have a good term.' Vernon said with a cruel smile before turning on his heel and stalking back to the car.
Harry was left standing alone in the middle of a packed train station that was filled with tourists and gumbling business people in suits. He had a massive trunk with him that he couldn't lift by himself and a ticket for a train that was to depart from a platform that didn't exist.
A cold sweat broke out on his forehead and he looked around frantically. He pushed the cart over to an guard wearing a luminous green vest printed with "Information" and tapped him on the shoulder.
'Excuse me sir, could you tell me the way to platform nine and three-quarters?'
The guard, his face shiny with perspiration in the building morning heat frowned at him. 'Nine and three-quarters? Look kid, it's too hot and too early to be bothering with stupid questions, there is no nine and three-quarters.' He turned and walked toward a group of tourists who were arguing over a large map of the London Underground.
Harry stood, shaking slightly with anticipation. Looking up at a large clock on the wall, he realised that there was less than thirty minutes to go.
That's when he spotted her.
A tall black girl with gleaming black hair that fell straight to her shoulders was striding toward a barrier with a long broom over one shoulder. She was wearing a short gold and scarlet kilt, knee length white socks and high-heeled shoes with a black crop top bearing the name 'Wyrd Sisters' across the chest. Behind her, a man who must have been her father was pushing a cart like Harry's which was loaded high with trunks, bags and a large cat carry box.
That settled it. Harry pushed his cart forward to intercept her shouting 'Excuse me, excuse me!'
Ten feet away, the girl looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
'Excuse me, are you going to Hogwarts?' Harry asked, hushing the last word conspirationally.
'Yep. First year?' The girl asked, looking him over.
Harry was pleased that he had worn his best Diagon Alley clothes when confronted with the girl's piercing gaze. He nodded. 'I'm Harry Potter and-'
The girl's startled expression silenced him. 'You're Harry Potter?' She said, astonishment on her face.
Harry nodded, 'Yes, can you help me?'
'Harry Potter, as in the one that destroyed You-Know-Who?'
'Yes!'
'Who's this, Angelina?' The man asked as he heaved the cart over to them. His face was a sheen of sweat.
The girl turned around, quick-stepped over to the man and leaned in close. 'Dad, this is Harry Potter, y'know, The-Boy-Who-Lived!
The man's expression was blank.
The girl punched her father on the arm, 'The one who defeated the Dark Lord!'
Vague comprehension washed over the man's face. 'Right, nice to meet you.' He said before pushing the cart onward to the turnstiles.
'That's my dad,' the girl said looking disappointed, 'big, stupid muggle.' She held out a hand to him and he saw perfectly manicured nails almost two inches long. 'I'm Angelina, Angelina Johnson: Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. You'll know all about that though.'
Harry shook her hand and smiled. 'Nice to meet you and not really. I was raised by muggles you see.'
The girl laughed, revealing bright white teeth that were almost too perfect to be real. 'Then you know what they're like, bloody useless. I'm half-and-half, mum's a witch.'
'I'm…' Harry started.
'You're Halfblood, son of the second greatest Gryffindor seeker in the last three-hundred years, James Potter.' She said as if it were common knowledge.
'What?'
'Your dad, epic, legendary chaser? In the top five Gryffindor chasers of all time, better statistics than most professionals?'
Harry's mind was swimming. When would he stop being the last to know everything? 'I don't know anything much about my parents or magic, the muggles who raised me never told me anything about… anything really.'
'Bloody hell, Harry.' Alica said, eyes wide in astonishment. 'You come with me, I'll be sitting with the team on the train. Wood will probably kiss your robe when he finds out who you are.'
Angelina reached down and took his hand firmly in hers, pulling him and his cart along to where her father was waiting.
He hugged Angelina, kissed her and pressed a twenty pound note into her hand. 'Here you go honey, have a great time at school. She smiled, hugged him back and waved her ticket to a guard, whose expression became suddenly vacant, allowing her to walk through. Harry did the same and watched as the formerly alert guard's face became slack and dream-like. He waved his hand in front of the guard's face and looked at Angelina.
'Confundus charm on all the tickets,' she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry pushed his cart though as Angelina took out a wand that had somehow been secreted on or in her skirt, waved it at her own cart and muttered 'locomotor' and the cart swung around and started following a few feet behind Angelina.
'I thought we weren't allowed to use magic before we were seventeen?' Harry asked, staring.
Angelina shrugged. With all the magic families in the area who can't wipe their noses without magic? The ministry would probably explode if they tried to keep track of every spell used. Nah, I'm third year this year and everyone does it according to Fred and George.'
'Who?'
'Fred and George Weasley, they're twins and the Beaters on the team,' Angelina said, 'You'll probably get on like a house on fire if you're anything like your dad.'
'Why?'
Angelina laughed again, 'Sorry, I keep forgetting you don't know anything. James Potter and his friends were some of the most well-known pranksters in school history, real legends!'
Harry smiled, wondering how much he'd be able to learn about his parents as he walked side-by-side Angelina toward the platforms. 'Do you think I'd be able to do that?' He asked, nodding his head in the direction of her cart.
She shrugged, 'Don't see why not. Give it a go.'
Harry, feeling warm and incredibly confident in Angelina's tall and slightly intimidating presence, pulled his wand from inside his shirt, cleared his throat and tapped his cart lightly. 'Locomotor.'
Nothing happened.
Angelina shrugged. 'Think about what you want the cart to do when you say the words. The words are just a focus for what you want the spell to do. And put some power into it, some uumph!'
Harry did as she said, mentally telling the cart to follow him and willed it to happen as he said the word again. The cart quivered, the four wheels spinning wildly for a second before it turned on the spot and took up a position a couple of feet behind him.
'Nice.' Angelina said, showing all her teeth again before resuming their walk.
They followed signs for platforms nine and ten and walked out onto a modern platform.
'Where now?' Harry asked.
Angelina pointed one talon – for that is what her nails actually resembled, filed and slightly pointed as they were – at a pillar between platforms nine and ten, then walked straight at it, closing her eyes a second before her nose hit the brickwork.
She disappeared through the wall and her cart followed a few seconds later.
Harry's mouth fell open.
He walked up to pillar, slightly hesitant and put his hand to the stone. Which wasn't there!
His hand disappeared up to the elbow in the brick and he stepped through. For a moment he felt utterly cold, like someone had dipped him in almost freezing water, but just as quickly stepped though onto a busy platform next to which rested, wreathed in steam, a massive and gleaming red steam engine.
The platform was full of people, many dressed in absurd mockery of muggle clothes. He saw one woman wearing a violent orange dress that didn't acutally touch her body but levitated a few inches off her skin. A man was wearing a neon-blue fedora and khaki suit with a gold tie.
Harry spotted Angelina jumping around excitedly with a group of girls screaming about something. He approached and was caught in a crushing hug by a girl with extravagantly long blonde hair that smelled like raspberries. He was passed around the group who all hugged him and, in incredibly high voices, told him how great it was to meet him and how "awesome" he was for defeating You-Know-Who.
Head spinning, he left Angelina to giggling and wandered along the platform. Near the end of the train was a conductor who asked for his ticket, gave him another one and took his cart and trunk.
Hoping Nidhogg would be alright among his shirts, Harry walked back up the platform looking for Angelina. He passed an oddly familiar sharp-faced blonde boy and woman, both with superior sneers on their angular faces but decided not to speak to them. Overhead, a clock told him that there were twelve minutes until departure and that students should take their seats on board.
Continuing to look for Angelina, he ran stomach-first into a cart pushed by a tall, well-built boy of around fourteen with bright red hair and a cheeky, grinning face.
'Sorry about that mate.' The boy said, helping Harry up from the floor where he had crumpled, breathless.
'George, you clumsy git!' said another boy, absolutely identical to the first.
'I know Fred, I have apologised.' Said the first.
Behind the two boys came a short, portly woman, a boy of around Harry's age and a small girl perhaps a year younger. All had the same flaming hair.
Harry went over to the boy, 'Are you Ron?' he asked.
The boy nodded, looking fearful.
'I'm Harry Potter, I met your dad Arthur in Diagon Alley last week.' Harry said, extending his hand.
The boy, who had a dirty smear on his nose and was dressed almost as badly as Harry had been before meeting Madame Malkin, stared at Harry's hand and nodded, mouth agape. The girl's eyes went wide and she hid in her mother's skirts who had herself a look of utter shock on her face.
'My word,' the woman said, stepping forward, 'I thought Arthur had been lying when told us he'd met the great Harry Potter on his way to work. I had no idea. You've grown so much!' She gushed, pulling Harry into a tight, yet soft hug.
Harry froze, still not entirely used to any embrace that wasn't an attempt to break his ribs by Dudley.
The woman released him and clasped his face in her hands. 'You look so much like your father! I always knew you would, of course. You were the spitting image of him when you were born and always obsessed with brooms! You have your mother's eyes too, absolutely exact. Oh my dear boy it is so good to see you again after all these years!'
Harry was stunned, 'I'm sorry, but I don't remember you.'
'Of course you don't,' the woman laughed, 'you haven't seen me since you were, oh, about eight months old. Since before your parents went into hiding of course…' She tailed off, her eyes filled with sadness.
'I…' Harry started but faltered when he literally had nothing to say.
'I'm Molly Weasley,' the woman said, then gestured to the girl, boy and twins, 'this is Ginny, Ron and those two over there are Fred and George, I don't know if you saw him but another son of mine is called Percy.'
'Has he got,' Harry held his hands up either side of his head, 'too?'
Molly laughed and nodded. 'It's a family trademark, don't you know? Please excuse us, Harry while I take Ronald to drop his bags off. She pulled Ron and Ginny along with their cart and into the steam.
Harry shook his head, amazed.
A piercing whistle made him turn around and he saw Angelina and the other girls getting on the train. 'C'mon Harry, hurry up!' she shouted, beckoning for him to join her.
He ran toward the train and climbed aboard.
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