Hogwarts Express

Today was the day. I stood before the mirror in my room, hardly able to contain my excitement as I checked my appearance one final time. My new black robes hung perfectly, my wand safely secured in its holder at my waist. The morning light streaming through my window caught the blackthorn wood, making the golden core shimmer faintly within.

I'd even put on the pointed wizard's hat, though it made me feel a bit silly - still, I was determined to go full wizard today. Beneath the robes, I wore a simple white shirt, black trousers, and my favorite trainers. The combination of magical and Muggle clothing seemed fitting, given the fact that I was a half-blood, best of both worlds right.

My enchanted suitcase sat ready by the door, packed with everything I could possibly need for Hogwarts. Mum had enchanted it with several charms - making it bigger on the inside while keeping it lightweight. 

Inside, I'd carefully arranged everything into it's own little space, my telescope (wrapped in three layers of protective cloth because Dad had warned me about the roughness of train journeys), my gleaming brass cauldron still pristine though very much used (thank cleaning and repair spells for that), various potions ingredients, herbs, scales, and a collection of books I'd borrowed from Mum's library, with her permission of course. 

The books were mainly about divination, illusion magic, and biology - the first subject had caught my interest ever since the incident with Louise, while the other two were just fascinating by themselves. There was something about understanding how things worked, whether through magic or science, that appealed to me as long as it wasn't in a class that is, classes were boring as hell.

Pride of place in my luggage went to my newest possession and current obsession - a guitar. It wasn't exactly a traditional wizard's instrument, but since Dad had put his foot down about owls, Mum had surprised me with it instead.

I was absolutely rubbish at playing it so far, but hey, everyone had to start somewhere, right?

"Felix! Time to go!" Mum's voice called from downstairs, practically vibrating with excitement. If I was eager to get to Hogwarts, she was positively ecstatic about sending me there.

Kings Cross Station was unusually quiet for a Saturday morning, which was fortunate given how conspicuous we must have looked - a family of three, one in a colored dress that looked straight from one of those weird fashion magazines, one in a neat Muggle suit, and me dressed like I was ready for Halloween. We paused before the solid brick wall, carefully checking that no Muggles were watching.

"Ready?" Dad asked, giving my shoulder a squeeze. Despite not being magical himself, he seemed just as excited as Mum about this moment.

I nodded, trying to look more confident than I felt. Together, we walked straight at the barrier. Just as I was bracing for impact, we passed right through, emerging onto a platform I'd been dreaming about since I first learned of its existence.

The barrier itself was fascinating - a brilliant piece of magic combining both barrier and illusion spells. I made a mental note to research more about illusion magic when I got to Hogwarts. Looking up, I saw the wrought-iron archway with its elegant script: Platform 9¾.

Platform Nine and Three-Quarters was alive with activity. The Hogwarts Express stood there in all its glory, a magnificent machine of red steel. Crimson steam billowed from its chimney, creating different shapes with each puff of smoke..

Students in robes hurried back and forth, some already greeting friends with excited hugs and chatter, others struggling with trunks and pet carriers while their parents fussed over last-minute details. Owls hooted from their cages, cats of every color prowled between legs of their owners.

The scene before me filled me with such joy that I couldn't stop grinning. This was even better than getting my wand, better than receiving my Hogwarts letter - this was the moment everything became real. I was actually going to Hogwarts. I was going to learn proper magic, not just the weird "I Cast" stuff I could do. I honestly didn't know how a human being could feel this much happiness without exploding.

I checked my watch - 10:28. Still plenty of time before the train's departure at 11:00.

Turning to my parents, I tried to sound casual, though my voice betrayed my excitement. "Well, guess this is goodbye until Christmas."

Dad ruffled my blonde hair, messing it up completely. "We're gonna miss you, kiddo."

"I'm gonna miss you too," I admitted, trying to fix my hair while simultaneously fighting back the lump forming in my throat.

Before I could say anything else, Mum grabbed me in one of her bone-crushing hugs and began wailing at the top of her lungs. "Oh, the little chick is leaving the nest! How will this mother chicken ever live without you!"

I felt my face burning as other families turned to stare. Some of the older students snickered, while a few parents gave knowing looks - clearly, I wasn't the first child to suffer this particular embarrassment.

"Mum," I hissed, "please, you're embarrassing me!"

She grinned wickedly, her golden eyes twinkling with mischief. "I told you before, didn't I? It's my job to embarrass you."

I tried to wiggle free, but she just hugged tighter. Then, in a softer voice meant only for me, she added, "You're going to be okay, Felix."

"I know, Mum."

"I know you know."

"Then why-"

"A mother worries," she finished, finally releasing me from her grip. 

I made a dash for the train before she could change her mind, but turned back at the last moment to wave.

They stood together on the platform - my Muggle dad in his neat suit and my witch mum in her colorful dress, both waving back with proud smiles. They made an odd couple, but somehow they worked perfectly together, and I honestly couldn't think of better parents.

Finding an empty compartment wasn't difficult - I was still somewhat early. I settled into a seat by the window and opened my suitcase just enough to fish out my guitar. It was beautiful in its simplicity - completely white, with a deep red pattern on the back that spelled out "I Cast" - my personal catchphrase, the one I planned to spam at Hogwarts.

As I began tuning it, my fingers moved automatically through the motions I'd practiced. My memory worked differently now, ever since that night at Louise's house. Not just the vision or the events of that night - everything I experienced from that day on was stored in my mind like pages in a book, perfectly preserved if I could find the right page.

It took time to sort through the memories, like flipping through chapters, but once I found what I wanted, every detail was crystal clear. Right now I was searching for a sheet of music and it wasn't long before I found it. I concentrated for a bit and began.

I began to play slowly at first, fixating myself on my fingers, I continued to play slowly, concentrating more on my fingers than on the sound the guitar made, after all if the fingers were correct, the sound should be right too.

Slowly I picked up speed, not too much not too little, still I was fixated on my fingers. Just as I was about to pick up even more speed I heard a voice beside me.

"I'm sorry, you can't play that on the train."

I looked up to find the trolley witch smiling kindly at me, though I could see the boredom behind her eyes. Can't blame her - pushing sweets up and down a train all day couldn't be very exciting.

"Sorry," I muttered, carefully tucking the guitar back into my magically expanded suitcase.

"Any snacks?" she offered.

"No, thank you." I watched her move along to the next compartment before checking my watch again - 10:52.

Bored, I turned around and kneeled on the booth seats, peering down the corridor. That's when I noticed her - a girl with black hair sitting alone in an otherwise empty carriage at the end of the car. Well, I thought, might as well be social. Extroverts for the win, right?

I made my way to her compartment, finding her sitting alone, her long black hair neatly braided, sky-blue eyes fixed determinedly on the ceiling. She wore the same style robes as me, though I noticed she wasn't wearing her hat.

"Hi," I said brightly.

No response. She continued staring at the ceiling as if I wasn't there.

"Uhm, hello?" I tried again.

When she still didn't respond, a thought struck me. I gently tapped her shoulder to get her attention. When she finally looked at me, tilting her head in confusion, I asked while simultaneously signing, "Are you deaf?"

Thank goodness for Dad's random decision to teach me sign language two summers ago - just another one of his "essential life skills" that actually turned out useful. He'd insisted that knowing multiple ways to communicate would be important someday, and as usual, he'd been right.

Her eyes widened in surprise and delight as she watched my hands move. She nodded eagerly, her hands quickly forming a response.

"Yes."

Well, I thought with a grin, at least I knew why she hadn't said anything about my awful guitar playing skills.

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