Charlotte Spirit

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A young, blonde-haired girl wheels her large trolley confidently through the wall separating Platform Nine and Platform Ten of King's Cross station. Within an instant, she was met with one of the greatest magical sites in Britain. Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Steam rises from the great red train, and a huge crowd of witches and wizards mills about, an even mix of children of her age and their guardians.

All of these sights are absorbed in an instant by the great, black raven perched on the girl's shoulder. He smiles internally, looking over curiously to see what his ward's reaction was. Surprisingly, the girl seemed overcome by a momentary sense of wonderment, with an excited smile painted across her expression. It was a rare moment, one where her youth was perfectly visible for all to see in her eyes. Out of a strange sense of duty, her guardian commits this moment to memory. Then, as suddenly as it came, the moment passes.
Charlotte glances over at her shoulder, a look of practised confidence on her face.

"What are you gawking at, bird?", she asks the raven expectantly.
"I was just admiring your hair, girl. It reminded me of my cousin, the-""-Ostrich. Harry, was it?"

She smiles, and the raven lets out a noisy series of Caws that substituted as laughter. Naturally, her parents hadn't accompanied her to the train station, they were content with saying their goodbyes back at the house. So instead, the only one who would be with her throughout her journey was the Raven, Shaman. He was her guide, but also her guardian, instructing her quietly on how to navigate through the treacherous pathways of the Muggle city and reach this hidden bastion of wizardry.

As she brought her trolley around to the Hogwarts Express, the two of them allowed an older Wizard assist in packing their luggage into the train. Shaman was, much to his dismay, forced into his birdcage when it finally came time to board, but Charlotte promised that she would "probably" let him out once they found a compartment.

She wanders lazily down the corridor, peering into each of the compartments until she finally found one near the end that was completely empty. Satisfied, she steps inside and closes the door behind her.

After placing Shaman's cage on the closest seat, she deftly steps onto the seat next to him and heaves her suitcase onto the luggage rack.

This should be fine, she thinks to herself.

How often had she been to King’s Cross before, and never known about this? At the junction of Euston Road and York Way King’s Cross was bustling with commuters, travelers, vacationers, station agents… and wizards.

Caelum scanned the familiar scene for this unfamiliar attribute, though, she didn’t see any pointed hats. As she rounded a corner she thought she might have seen a large crow, but as a cloud of people passed between them it seemed to have vanished.

She was walking behind three adults: Her father, who was scowling and glaring at her acceptance letter; then Petra and Gwen, the neighbors from downstairs. The women walked on either side of her father, but unlike him they wore happy wistful expressions. They chattered excitedly to one another as they walked saying things like ‘Do you remember--’ ‘Yes, isn’t that where Donovan--’ ‘Oh my! And look, isn’t that the old--’ they basked in nostalgia. The two neighbors claimed to be Witches, and said that they had attended Hogwarts themselves (and had not been to King’s Cross since, Wizards and Witches had other means of travel...).

Caelum walked behind them carrying two of her five bags. She had a Prada luggage set bought by mother as a congratulatory gift. The luggage was subtle white and grey paisley print with a pink trim. Her mother had an important photo shoot and could not be there to see her off at the station, the luggage was a reminder that her mother wished her well anyhow. Her father dragged along the largest case, Gwen and Phedra carried her purse and tote respectively.

Gwen and Petra had taken her shopping in Diagon Alley, relieving her busy/weirded-out father from the duty. They offered to bring her to the station, but her father insisted on bringing her himself. This would be his first step into the Wizard World, the worried witches convinced him that they should came along as well.

Finally her flustered father crumpled the letter up and threw his arms out. “Never have I ever, seen nor heard of platform nine-and-three-quart-ers!” He was a very tall and handsome man, even anger did little to mar his smooth square features.

“Yet, here we are!” Exclaimed Gwen as she waved her hand toward a brick column between platform 9 and 10. “Now Little Cae… Step right this way with your things, and head straight-for-it!”

“Madness!” Her father jumped between Caelum and the wall. “That is a solid wall, mum, she’ll dash straight up against it!” He still hadn’t quite shaken the feeling that someone was pulling his leg, and at any moment the cameras would appear and it would turn out that his ex-wife had set him up on some terrible reality show.

“Doctor Liquin,” Petra was half as tall as her father, and touched his elbow gingerly. “Look there now, no need to fret.” She pointed to a young girl with dark curls being smothered by her mother, then the girl turned toward the wall… and ran for it.

Her father startled but Gwen touched his chest to still him. He and Caelum gasped as the girl disappeared through the brickwork.

Caelum smiled. “It’s magic father, real magic. Before he could stop her Caelum strode toward the brick wall and disappeared through it.

Stepping onto platform 9 ¾ with wide eyes. She beheld what appeared to be a steam-engine train, and what she could only assume to be an endless amount of wizards, witches, and of course fellow classmates.

In a moment her father, Petra and Gwen appeared also. Her father looking a bit dazed, the women had likely pulled him through.

“This way now dear.” Petra took her hand and lead her down the platform. Caelum said nothing, her mouth shut and her eyes wide, she saw gorgeous owls, broomsticks, smiling faces everywhere, magic faces.

They took her luggage form her. “We’ll manage this, Little Cae, time for you to step on.” Gwen leaned down to hug the young girl and kiss both her cheeks, Petra did the same.

Her father stopped blinking at the strange world around him, and set his eyes upon his only daughter. “Dearest…” He enfolded her in his arms, a rare display of affection. “Good luck… do well… write often.”

Caelum nodded into his chest. Then took her purse from Gwen and stepped onto the train.

Inside the train was loud. The students were excited and rambunctious. Many seemed to already know one another, or else made fast friends.

She tried to look calm and passive, like her mother did when walking the cat-walk or through a party. It would be ineffective and rude to interrupt an existing clique, but some of the solo students wouldn’t necessarily be welcoming right away. She hoped to find someone alone and ‘open’, if she could find even one companion the train ride would be much more pleasant, and her transition into this strange magical world a bit smoother.

She stopped as she passed a compartment, recognizing a certain mass of black curls. ’That is the girl we saw pass through the wall.’ She could not see the girls face, she was looking out the window, perhaps she preferred to be alone or was waiting for her friends. Still, Caelum wanted to try...

Caelum knocked on the compartment door frame and put one foot inside. “Hello, are these seats taken?” She smiled cordially. “Even if they are… I just wanted to let you know, I think that your shoes are super-cute!”

Katherine Collinsworth

"Goodbye, Father. I will see you at Christmas."

"Bye, Katherine. See ya'!"

Katherine frowned, flipping a strand of her blonde hair over her shoulder prettily. The girl had never approved of her father's easy-going nature, especially once she was old enough to know about the importance of his job. Reaching up to adjust her small blue fedora, Katherine hurried through the wall leading to Platform 3/4. After taking a moment to stare at the Hogwarts Express admiringly, she quickly entered the train in search for a Mudblood-free compartment. She paused, leaning against a wall and taking out her purse, counting her galleons- if she didn't bring enough, Katherine still had time to ask her father for some more. Nodding to herself, pleased with the amount, she continued down the hallway.

Looking through an open door, she found a green-eyed girl sitting alone in the small room. Quietly, Katherine looked around, seeing a bird - a raven, probably- on the seat beside the sitting girl. Fixing her hair again and pulling her large lilac suitcase to a stop, she stepped in. "Good morning," Katherine greeted. She paused, wondering how to phrase her next words without being too impolite- just in case the girl was someone important. "Are you a pure-blood? Half-blood?" she asked, "Or... maybe you're a Mud-blood?"

Richie was dismayed as students poured onto the train. His mother was still trying to take a picture despite his dramatic insistence that the train would leave without him if they took any longer. His father stood next to Richie with his arm around the boy’s shoulders. They sported a pair of painfully forced smiles as she took one, two, three pictures before she was satisfied. Was Richie actually worried that the train would leave without him? Of course not, but he was desperate to find a compartment before they were all full.

Mrs. Corbeaux put her camera away and gave Richie a quick peck on the cheek. The whistle howled once and the boy’s anxiety started to build again. He still had plenty of time; there was no reason to panic. He owed his parents at least this much. “Look, I’m proud of you sweetheart, and I know you’re going to be great.” Richie smiled at her. It was the kind of thing only mother could say convincingly and in that moment, Richard believed his.

“Thanks Mum.”

He turned to look at his dad. The late-thirties DMLE agent was tall and stoic, but not unkind. He was everything Richie aspired to be (though he would never admit it), and for a brief moment, Richie thought he saw a chink in the man’s armor. “I’d wish you luck Son,” he said, “but I think you’ll be fine without it.” He ruffled Richie’s hair. The train whistle screeched again. “Better hurry,” Mr. Corbeaux chuckled.

Richie dashed through the crowd with his trunk bouncing around, off-kilter in his wake. A couple of older students and parents glowered as he passed.

He made it onto the train with more than enough time and briefly looked around before being stopped by a pretty blonde girl blocking his path. She appeared to be inquiring about the compartment she was standing in the doorway of.

"...a pure-blood? Half-blood?" the girl asked, "Or... maybe you're a Mud-blood?"

Richie cringed and bit his lip before he interrupted her with a nasty remark. He lost his nervousness for a brief second as he tapped on the girl's shoulder. "You don't think that's kind of a rude question?"

ANWH