Solo Finished Reminiscence of a journey to Hogwarts

With a low growl, the black SUV pulled up at London King's Cross train station. Dominica awoke, jumping as the car stopped. She had fallen asleep during the few-hour journey from the manor. Through the car windows, she saw people passing by all around. She immediately recognised some witch and wizard families who stood out from the muggles' poor choice of clothing and haircuts, as well as the cages they carried with owls hooting inside them, and some of the teens even wearing scarves in their house colours.

The driver got out and opened the door for her. With an indifferent nod, she stepped out, the book she had been reading that morning now stuffed in the satchel, which was slung over her shoulder. The driver opened the car’s boot and retrieved her luggage. He struggled involuntarily, clearly not expecting the trunk to be so heavy. He did Dominica the favour of carrying it to the King's Cross station main building, where he placed it on a metal baggage cart. From there, he coldly bid her farewell and left her alone in the sea of stressed and anxious passengers awaiting their trains.

Dominica took out the train ticket that had come with the Hogwarts letter and clutched it tightly in her fingers. She knew the station well; she had been here before, and had even ridden one of the Muggle trains, which was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but she had not yet had the chance to board the Hogwarts Express. Still, she knew exactly where to go and what to do, which left her confident enough.

She made her way as if swimming through the crowd, the grandiose baggage cart parting the throng like an icebreaker. At last, she stepped outside and the fresh morning air struck her face. It eased her tension slightly after being wedged between so many shoulders and torsos. Still, the crowd did not completely disperse, even outside, with people streaming in and out of trains that arrived and departed. The train station bustled with activity, which was not at all to Dominica’s taste.

She reached the barrier between platforms Nine and Ten. The red-brick wall appeared solid at first glance, and the muggles hurrying past failed to notice the growing line of children with enormous luggage and noisy animals running straight at it and vanishing into it. Dominica found it almost unimaginable that muggles simply walked by, oblivious to what was happening. She sometimes wondered if there was anything about the muggle world that she herself failed to notice. Thoughts raced through her mind as she unconsciously tried to distance herself from reality and block out the noise of the passenger platform. She stood in line with children of all ages – some still clinging to their mothers’ skirts, which Dominica found rather pathetic, and others who looked as if they were about to start their final year at the school. Nevertheless, they were all moving painfully slowly. She noticed that some of the children, mostly those her own age, seemed intimidated by the imposing, apparently solid brick wall.

When her turn finally came, with a few people waiting behind her, she strode forward without hesitation and walked straight into the wall. Her confidence never faltered, her eyes never closed, and with a spark of light she entered the concealed Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Here, the energy shifted immediately; in the little girl’s eyes, it seemed as if the station came to life. It might not have been as loud or crowded as the Muggle station, but even so, it was much more colourful, grand and comforting. She almost felt at peace.

She had previously read the book “Hogwarts: A History” by Bathilda Bagshot, so she was certain of how things worked on 1 September. She started pushing her baggage cart through the platform. As she walked, she saw children around her hugging their parents goodbye, children already seated inside the Hogwarts Express waving and crying over the prospect of not seeing their parents until Christmas break. She moved through with an emotionless expression; somewhere deep down she felt jealous, but on the surface she convinced herself she did not care. Finally, she pushed past a family of four to reach the passenger doors. She looked around, noticing a railway porter standing nearby. She called them over with a wave of her hand, and as they approached, she asked for help with the trunk. The porter kindly loaded it onto the train, which’s floor was much higher than the platform. Dominica only nodded in half-hearted appreciation, boarding the train with her luggage and leaving the worker to tend to the cart, now standing empty beside the train doors.