After what seemed like an eternity of chocolate frogs later, I could sense the train slowing to a standstill.
"Janey!" I cried racing to the window, while at the same time alerting my comrade (who had fallen into a rather lengthy slumber)
"What's going on?" she muttered drowsily.
"We're here! Oh, we're here at last! I can see the castle!"
It was as though I had uttered a rejuvanation curse on her. All her slumber collapsed from her body. Glavanized, she raced toward the window.
"Oh! It's beautiful! It's so beautiful!"
"I can't believe I'm seeing it for the first time! It feels so warm and familiar! It's like I'm meeting a relative who I haven't seen since I was a baby! "
"It's a sight to feast yer eyes on ain't it?"
"It certainly is!"
To describe the sight Hogwarts castle for the first time ever would be like trying to invoke a visual image of a rainbow's grandeur to somebody visually impaired. It would be like trying to describe a melody to a person who's hearing was faulty or the falling of snow to a desert-dweller. It is simply impossible! I could spend the rest of this story trying to describe the awe and grandeur of the castle, and I still wouldn't have conveyed the image properly.
I think it is best to simply let some things lie as they are, dear reader. I am sure most of you have already seen Hogwarts for yourselves and do not require my assistance in visualizing the original view of Hogwarts. To those young wizards, who are yet to recieve your Hogwarts letter, fear not. You shall soon find out for yourself in a few years. I never was one to particularly pre-expose people to my experiences. I find that it is usually better to experience something wonderful without a predisposition. Wonderful things are best experienced unprepared.
The ext dew seconds were carried out in a whirlwind of joy and exhilaration. This may have been a tad bit too much, because as a side effect of all these positive feelings, I have discovered the large spaces in my memory of the experience. Perhaps in an opposing manner to the mind meticulously remembering every single detail experienced in an unhappy moment, the mind tends to blank out large spaces of enjoyable events. It is not mad to conclude (at least, I shouldn't think it is) that this occurs as a counterbalance or a complement to negative memories. Or a simpler explanation would be that I am just getting on a bit. In either case, I seem have no recollection of the events involving my eviction from the train. Perhaps my head is just so full of memories that I've started pushing some old ones out to make room.
But I digress. Continuing the events inscribed in my memory, following it thought for thought, regardless of the blanks, my next recollection begins outside the train, standing next to Janey, as well as a bunch of other first years. We were all gazing up in awe and wonder at the massive behemoth towering over us. he was a large bearded man in a moleskin coat that would have no doubt succeeded in covering every single one of us, had he chosen to expel it off of himself. In his right hand, he carried a lantern. I may as well add for visualization's sake, that we were all standing on the banks of the Black Lake.
Back to the topic at hand about the lummox before us, I felt absolutely nothing, nor did I share a single feeling that everybody besides me was experiencing. I had already experienced it a considerable time ago. For me, I knew this man quite well. His name (and I'm sure all of you whose parents have attended Hogwarts know) was-
"Hagrid!" I squealed in sheer joy. There is nothing quite so comforting and joyful to a child, as the sight of a well-known adult in a strange, new place.
I pushed my way to the front of the students, and encompassed (or perhaps the more accurate term in this particular situation calls for the use of the verb "quarter-encompassed" my arms around him. I could feel myself being pulled into a returning embrace that nearly dented my spine.
"Hiya, Lily!" grinned my old friend.
"I missed you!" I squealed. In my delight at encountering one of my parent's dearest friends (who we weren't related to by blood) I had forgotten to bring to Hagrid's attention my resolution to be henceforth referred to using my middle name in addition to my first.
"How's yer Mum and Dad" Grinned Hagrid.
"Busy and good" I replied promptly. I replied in this manner due to fear that Hagrid would reveal my parentage to my fellow First Years. I didn't want the first thing about myself that they would carry off with them, to be my bloodline. Then my hope for creating an identity for myself outside them, would be dashed.
"Everybody get into a boat, no more' an four in each" shouted Hagrid, dismissing myself for the moment. I silently excreted a relief-packed sigh.