Bring Us Back a Flobberworm solo finished

What a long journey it had been—Cricket wasn’t really sure how the old family station wagon managed to stay in one piece going from Kenmare to Dublin, much less from Liverpool to London after they’d disembarked from the ferry. The whole ordeal had taken two days of traveling, after which she and Da had taken a few days’ respite in the city, buying school supplies and such. She’d even gotten to see Big Ben and the River Thames for the first time in her life, but she’d been so single-mindedly focused on the task ahead of her that it was hard to appreciate them.

They’d both woken up very early on the morning of the first of September. After a quick but hearty meal of eggs and bacon at the bed and breakfast where they were sojourning, the two of them loaded all of Cricket’s things into the car and drove off to King’s Cross Station. With some luck, the two of them managed to work out where Platform 9 ¾ was, following a rather odd-looking group of people right through a brick wall.

Now Cricket found herself standing in the middle of the crowded platform, face-to-face with the rest of her family via video on Da’s mobile phone. Seeing the smiling faces of Mom, Liam, Nathan and baby Chloe put her somewhat at ease amongst the sea of strange faces and noise—although she wished deep down that they could all be standing on the platform together in person. She could never have asked that of them, though; someone needed to stay behind to mind the sheep, and besides, a cross-country trip for a family of six cost more than Cricket dared to imagine. It was enough, she decided, that they were even able to see each other at all.

“There’s my brilliant scholar,” said Mom, amidst a chorus of “hi” and “hello” and “oooh” and “what’s that” from the boys.

“Mom, mom! Show her how I dressed up Murphy,” Nathan said, his face aglow with pride. It was good to see him happy again. Last week when Cricket left home, he couldn’t stop crying.

Mom swiveled the camera towards the floor—a handsome black and white border collie wearing an old cap and a red scarf looked all about, excited by the commotion. The cap fell off his head almost immediately.

“He looks very dashing, Nathan. Although I think the hat might look even better on you,” Cricket said.

“Now wait a moment, isn’t that my cap?” Da said, pretending to feel around his own head. “How did it get all the way over there?”

“It was magic! Cricket used her magic!” Nathan answered in a fit of giggles, grabbing on to the phone and turning it to face him again.

“I did not,” Cricket said, her voice tinted with humor. “But you’d best behave yourselves, boys, because if I hear you’ve given Mom and trouble, I’ll be able to turn you both into frogs when I come home.”

“Will she really?” Nathan asked, slack-jawed, turning slowly back towards his mother.

“She won’t,” Liam rebutted, ever the know-it-all. “There’s a law; says she’s not allowed to use magic at home until she’s seventeen.”

Even though she’d just lost all the leverage she’d had, Cricket was mildly impressed by Liam’s sudden and uncharacteristic show of knowledge. “How’d you know that?” she asked.

“I read about it in Hogwarts, A History,” Liam said, beaming. He ran to the bookshelf in the corner of the kitchen where Mom kept her cookbooks and came running back with a tattered copy of the tome in question. “See?”

Astonished, Mom plucked it out of Liam’s hands. “Now where on Earth did you pick something like this up?” she wondered.

“Old Mister O’Riley at the farmer’s market sold it to me,” said Liam, looking very pleased with himself.

“Oh, he did, did he,” Mom said, a suspicious glint in her eye. “I’ll have to have a word with him, so.”

“I haggled him down to six Euros for it,” Liam turned towards the camera and flashed a smile.

“Fair play, Liam,” Cricket laughed, but it was short-lived when she noticed his eye was still bruised from a fight he’d been in before she left. “How’s your eye?”

“Grand,” the boy shrugged. “Better than Doyle’s is.”

“Well, just remember not to start anything you can’t finish now—I won’t be around to take care of him next time you two decide to start acting the maggot,” Cricket said.

“All right, I won’t hit him unless he hits me first,” Liam folded his arms across his chest.

“Do you promise?”

“I promise,” Liam replied.

Da looked at his watch. “Well, it’s just about time, everyone—wish Cricket good luck, now, and we’ll be cracking on.”

“We’re proud of you, sweetheart,” Mom said.

“And we always will be,” Da added, placing a hand on Cricket’s shoulder.

“You can write letters to us every day if you’d like—it’ll be good practice for the boys to read them,” Mom said.

“I will, Mom,” Cricket said. The nervous feeling she’d had when she’d arrived at the station started to return—she didn’t like goodbyes, but she’d keep smiling for the benefit of everyone else. It wouldn’t do for them to see her upset when they’d done so much to help her get here.

“Bring us back a bat!” Liam said, waving goodbye.

“Or a two-headed toad,” Nathan said, turning the camera towards himself again.

“Or a flobberworm!” added Liam.

“What’s a flobberworm?!” Cricket asked, raising an eyebrow. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound pleasant.

“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough! Bye!”

“Love you, dear. We know you’ll be brilliant,” Mom said, taking a firm hold of the phone on her end. She blew a kiss into the camera, then held up Chloe’s arm to help her wave goodbye. “Bye!”

Everyone repeated their goodbyes a few times for good measure, then finally—

“Love you too,” Cricket said faintly, giving one last, flimsy wave as they hung up. “Bye.”

Despite the platform still being full of people, it now felt strangely empty. Cricket looked up at her father, at a loss for what else to say.

He stooped down and scooped her into a hug. Slowly, Cricket’s arms came up around him.

“Farewell, Da. Thanks for everything. Safe journey.”

“And a safe journey to you,” he replied.

Gathering up her things in her hands, Cricket treaded steadily towards the Hogwarts Express, resolving to meet whatever future waited for her at the end of the tracks.