Chapter two.
The next few weeks till summer break ended seemed to last an eternity.
Half of me was grateful for this; the same half that dreaded my start at this new school.
I mean, seriously… although I had proof that this place(in the form of the school books and robes I had recently purchased for this new school and the letter my mother had received), this school for witches and wizards, actually existed, the whole idea was still surreal.
I often found myself wondering, Is this really happening? Or is this all one big joke at my expense?
Well, now I got to find out.
I had just arrived at the train station where, according to Mr. Lupin's instructions, I would board a vehicle named the Hogwarts Express at the Kings Cross Station and, if I wasn't mistaken, at platform 9 ¾.
I was wandering around the station alone, glancing at my watch every minute or so and trying to find the platform. My mother had been acting cold and distant ever since she had received the, um, "owl," that notified her of where I would be attending school.
She was my only parent; my dad had left before I was born.
I remembered standing there, facing her as she faced the mirror. I had thought at that moment how she looked nothing like me. She had always told me I looked like my father.
I think she resented me for it.
The only thing my mother an I had in common were the shape of our eyes, even if hers were walnut brown and mine were somewhere in the pale gray/green spectrum.
"Where did you come up with this silly joke?" Aubrey McFlint had asked, distracted, as she fixed her straight platinum hair.
I subconsciously reached for my own faintly red-tinted caramel colored hair, which drifted just past my shoulders. It was in between curly and straight, as if it couldn't make up its mind. I wished it would hurry up and decide which it wanted to be.
"I'm not making this up, mum. I'm dead serious. There's no way I could have made an owl fly in here and give you a letter." I said.
My mother sighed and turned her perpetually glaring eyes on me. "I don't have time for this, Marcia." She said, an irritated edge to her voice. I held her glare with my own for a few moments, then turned and left the room.
I was used to that happening when I proved a point to her.
So she had dropped me off without speaking two whole words to me.
"Platform 7... Platform 8..." I mumbled to myself as I passed each platform. Now I came to Platform 9. Confusion filled me to the brim, and I felt my brow furrow that the sight before me.
All there was between Platforms 9 and 10 was a large stone structure.
No Platform 9 ¾.
What kind of sick prank is this? I thought. My heart sinking, I turned around and prepared to find a payphone to call my mother. "I should have known…" I muttered under my breath.
"Having trouble?"
My head snapped up in the direction of the voice. A tall, rail-thin girl about my age with dark golden brown hair stood before me, raising an eyebrow to emphasize her question.
"A bit," I admitted, "But I won't go into detail. If I did, you would believe me to be mental."
A grin spread across her lips. "Ah, I knew it," she said. "Knew what?" I pressed, blinking once. "You're a witch," was her answer. Relief swept over me, but I still eyed her cautiously.
"What do you know about that?" I asked wearily. The other girl laughed lightly. "I know plenty. I should; I'm one, too."
I relaxed a bit. "Do you happen to know anything about Platform 9 ¾?" I said.
She nodded, still smiling. "I do. Here, I'll show you," She said, taking my hand.
Without further adieu, she lead me towards the large stone barrier between 9 and 10, changing from a brisk walk to a run.
I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping my trunk for dear life, bracing myself for impact.
It didn't come.
We were slowing to a halt, releasing each other's hands, and I carefully peeled open my eyelids...