The first thing anyone could notice about the bleak, soggy day of September 1st at King's Cross Station was the pounding rain. It was the kind that lashes at your face in icy torrents and leaves your cheeks cold and numb. It was unbearably cold. The crowded platforms of the London train station were as busy as ever, men and women in long, soaked coats dashing for the long, steaming trains that would take them wherever they needed to go. Perhaps the most peculiar kind of rushing occured on platform Nine, where several children and their tired or frantic families clutched belongings on large trolleys.
Amongst the small group of children shivering from cold and lining up to run through a pillar to platform Nine and Three-Quarters stood an eleven-year-old boy with messy black hair, olive-toned skin, and wide, hazel eyes. He looked incredibly nervous as he held his oversized trunk close by, a tall covered cage with a pretty grey owl perched inside, and his small bag full of food his mother had given him to eat on the Hogwarts Express. He wore a black overcoat that looked a tad too large for him, a pair of now-soaking dress shoes, high brown socks, and a clean white shirt with brown suspenders attached to his plain black pants.
The little boy stood back from the boys and girls in front of him, who were fussing and complaining about the weather to their parents. One by one, they took off through the pillar to platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The boy watched intently, trying to memorize exactly how to run through. Will it hurt? What if I fall over or run into someone on the other side? he thought in a panic, biting his lip. He wiped his face of rain water and prepared to push his cart. The girl before him went through without a problem, vanishing behind the solid brick.
Just as the boy was about to break into a jog, something huge and heavy came crashing into his trunk. Before the boy could blink in shock, his clothing and most of his school supplies had been cast onto the concrete platform. The boy jumped, utterly startled, and several passerby stood speechless at the mess.
"Oh, no, oh, no, oh, god..." the boy mumbled, trying not to swear loudly. He ran over to his trunk, nearly slipping in puddles, picking up sopping masses of clothes now covered in dirty rain water and gunk from the ground. He felt like crying since he knew he was not allowed to use his wand yet. His clothes were everywhere, and a large box had seemingly crashed into it at random.
An older boy was helping him with his things. He looked like he could be a fifth or sixth year, and the younger thought that he was very kind, as he was the only one helping him. The older boy was apologizing profusely for what happened, although it was evident that he had not actually done the deed.
The older boy used a quick drying spell to dry all of the clothes and supplies before packing them back in. The younger boy thanked him multiple times before the older was rushing off to through the pillar.
Shaken up yet relieved, the boy heaved a big sigh and ran with his things onto Nine and Three-Quarters. The rain was not as heavy, but everything and everyone looked rather miserable and wet. Parents were adjusting their rain caps against the wind or huddling under their umbrellas. Little siblings were crying. Hogwarts students were shouting greetings at each other or running to find a spot on the train.
An older student took the little boy's owl to be kept in the owl car. Clutching his other things, the boy scrambed up into the train to get away from the crowded platform. The halls were tight and most of the cars were already filled with students. Some eyed him as he passed by searching for a seat with his large trunk and frightened expression. After what seemed like an hour, he came across a compartment not completely filled. Sliding the door open, he peeked in shyly to find another boy his age looking up curiously from his comic.
This boy had a sort of elven face, with wavy blond hair and sparkly blue eyes. His face seemed to give off a cheery mood even when he looked rather confused.
"Er... hello. Mind if I share this compartment?" The boy gulped slowly, wondering if the blond was going to refuse him for some reason.
Instead, the boy's face lit up. "Why not? Come on, get your rubbish up on top," said the occupant in a light, friendly tone. His accent sounded distinctly Irish.
A smile now upon his anxious face, the boy clambered to get his trunk on the rack above their seats. He then plopped down opposite the blond boy, who immediately held out his hand.
"Niall Horan. Pleasure!"
Shaking his hand, the other boy replied quietly, "Zayn Malik."
Niall scrunched his face into amusement. "Zayn? That's a right different name you got there. That's real funny."
"I suppose it is," Zayn answered, still smiling and looking out of the window at the gathering smoke coming from the train. "Hey, we're going to move soon."
"I sure hope so! I can't wait to be at Hogwarts doing magic and whatnot," said Niall, stretching out on his seat. He was wearing a purple necktie with golden stars sewn into it, which contrasted with his dark blue dress shirt.
"Where'd you get that flashy thing?" Zayn asked, trying not to giggle as he gestured to Niall's tie.
"It's my dad's. He got so riled up this summer that I was a wizard that he bought himself this thing. I told him, 'Dad, it's just a ruddy tie with ruddy stars covering it,' but he said it was accurate. I stole it out of his trunk yesterday. He doesn't know anything about magic or wizards and such. I'm Muggle-born, you see." Niall's face displayed pride and anticipation. He loved talking about his achievement. "How about you? You got any special warlock blood anywhere?"
"I'm pure-blood, but I don't know how good I am. I've never done magic at all," Zayn said, trying not to sound intimidated.
Niall's eyes got impossibly bigger. "That's something! We can't do magic anyways... You'd get along great with one of my mates, I met him in Diagon Alley a couple days ago. He's called Harry Styles. Purest blood I've ever come across. Even purer than Merlin's, no doubt. He's no professional, but he lets off this glow, you know? Wonder where he's gone off to, said he'd meet me..." Niall trailed off when he realized that Zayn was looking at him blankly.
"Harry sounds nice... He'll show up, don't worry," answered Zayn after a moment. He was starting to like Niall, even if he was already loud and talkative a couple of minutes into their meeting.
The Hogwarts Express sounded its whistle, and before they knew it, they were chugging off down the tracks towards their new school.
At this point, all Niall wanted to do was talk to his new friend. Zayn was barrelled with questions about life with wizards. What are Chocolate Frogs? Should I have gotten an owl or a toad? Do billywigs actually make you loopy and lift you off the ground? Are there really no leprechauns in England? Is it true that there's a charm for making someone dance uncontrollably?
They talked for about an hour before the candy trolley came by, displaying all sorts of sweets.
Zayn took ten Galleons and bought Chocolate Frogs, Licorice Wands, Cauldron Cakes, and other confections for himself and Niall. They ate in companionable silence for a while, Niall nearly fainting of happiness and satisfaction, chocolate smeared over the sides of his mouth. After a few minutes, Niall was snoring happily on his side of the compartment.
The rain had cleared significantly, countryside enveloping the train as they sped along. Zayn took out a small red book from his bag and opened to the first page. His mother had written their home address, as if he would forget, with a note that said, Write back on the weekends! Zayn flipped through some blank pages before coming to a leaf with many little black scribbles scratched randomly on the paper. They were notes from his older sister, little reminders of what to expect on the first day. His entire family had been in Slytherin, save for his sister. She had been a Ravenclaw, and had impressed nearly everybody with that change.
Deciding to read the notes later, Zayn took out one of the more intimidating textbooks to occupy himself. The cover was shabby but read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them in large letters. He opened to the first page and saw detailed pictures of wizards being chased by what looked like dragons, as well as several warnings per page about the deadly aspects of the vast majority of these animals. Suddenly uninterested, Zayn put the book down.
He glanced over at his new friend Niall, surrounded in candy wrappers and snoring away with limbs splayed out, then back out the window, leaning his head on the glass. The steady hum of the train plowing along to Hogwarts was oddly relaxing now and, forgetting all concerns temporarily, Zayn joined his friend to doze off as the afternoon quickly slipped away behind them.