CL The Journey to Hogwarts PV Alma Stoll Maggie Hawkins Colin McCoire Lilly Scott

Dear reader,

September 1, 2022

xxxxxxxxIn the life of a Hogwarts student's first year, one might expect the following: mystifying spells, whirlwind Quidditch games, explosive duels. Perhaps a friend or two, if you were lucky. A wealth of information at your fingertips, whether it be at the library or from the mouth of your fellow classmates. Nothing compared to being sorted, the excitement and mystique of being a young witch or wizard in an unfamiliar place where you were free to be anyone who you'd like.

It was so beyond the realm of possibility for Maggie to be excited about the upcoming second year, seeing as her own first year had drawn to a close just a few months earlier. Now, Maggie was tasked with the burden of leading the fresh meat around the castle. The big cat on campus, so to speak, responsible for the education and care of those below her.

However, Maggie had a confession to make. Standing at Platform 9 3/4, she felt even more excited than she had before the train ride of her first year. Maybe it was that she knew what was to lay beyond, and maybe it was the fact that she had a vague idea of how much more superior she would be when compared to these incoming first years. Whatever the reason, Maggie's knuckles were ghost-white where she clutched the bar of her trolley, pushing off with her feet and sailing into the brick wall that should've halted her travels long ago. Another successful journey onto the platform.

The train was, as usual, standing at its usual scarlet glory, puffing smoke and loud bell chimes to indicate that it was time for students to board.

It had eluded Maggie that her friends likely had no way of contacting her outside of school and might not be able to figure out what compartment they should sit in, so she was on her own for this particular ride. A nice callback to the first year, she supposed. Dark, patent leather shoes made their tell-tale thunk against the floors, and Maggie came upon a compartment empty save for one inhabitant. One lonely, little inhabitant, nose stuck in an issue of the Daily Prophet like it was his favorite picture book. "This seat taken?" Maggie didn't wait for an answer; just sat herself down in the seat across from the boy and pulled her legs up to rest atop the lid of her trunk as a makeshift footrest.

INTERACTIONS | @Finnegan Conner

@Bubba McGarry, @Alma Stoll | MENTIONS

Dear reader,

September 1, 2022

xxxxxxxxMaggie hardly ever asked for permission. She'd heard once, somewhere, that it was far easier to ask for forgiveness than it was for permission, though she didn't agree. Asking for forgiveness kinda sucked, honestly, but she could abide by those prolific and philosophical ideals just fine.

"Moody," she huffed under her breath at Finnegan, just in reference to his snarky little comment. "Hey, lemme see that."

A pale arm reached out towards the newspaper that Finnegan had set down, dragging it off the seat and unfolding the paper to peer at the moving pictures and word blurbs. "Oh, uh, thanks," Maggie reached up with thin fingers, raising her pinkie and chewing on the nail as she read. Hardly even noticed the arrival of another girl, and this one's nerves clearly distinguished her as a first-year.

Maggie wasn't really a handshake sort of person, so she leaned forward and smacked an open-palm high five against Finn's hand. She sat back in her seat, dropping her palm against her thigh and glancing at the other girl. She offered up her hand to the other in a similar motion, indicating that she was looking for a high five.

"'m Maggie," the nerves from the others were permeating off of them in waves, flowing like aerosol freshener and hitting Maggie's skin in little liquidated droplets. It was cute. "Y'know, I remember being that nervous. About my first year," spoken like it was so long ago, a metaphorical decade. "I mean, I'm just a second year now. It'll be fine. I think. I dunno."

INTERACTIONS | @Finnegan Conner

@Bubba McGarry, @Alma Stoll | MENTIONS

Dear reader,

September 1, 2022

xxxxxxxxOh, Maggie didn't find this uncomfortable. Truly, she hardly ever found herself allowing silence to be awkward. Maybe it was a deep rooted belief that nothing could truly be awkward if she didn't let it. Awkwardness was a social construct, or something, if she was trying to sound all prolific and special about it. Of course, Maggie Hawkins was not prolific or deep, no matter how hard she tried to be. So she kept her nose deep in the Daily Prophet, pupils scanning the letters and fingers thumbing at the corners of the thin paper.

When Finn spoke up again, talking about Maggie's apparently infamous slapping of Bubba McGarry (completely and entirely deserved), she finally set down the Prophet and regarded him with a deep sigh.

Oh, these firsties. They just didn't understand the inner complications and workings of second year drama. Obviously, Maggie wouldn't exactly consider what happened between her and Bubba to be drama, more so loyalty to her best friend, but the story had been twisted around like a lolly on a stick. Some said that she was just a mean girl who liked smacking boys for fun. Some said that her and Bubba McGarry had some sort of romantic entanglement (gag) that had ended poorly, so she'd taken it out on him at summer camp.

Neither were true, and Maggie would stand by that.

"Him?" Maggie scoffed and leaned back in her seat, crossing her left leg over her right and knitting her fingers together in her lap. The image it conjured was strikingly similar to a cartoon villain in the way that it made her look so devious, leaning forward on her knees as if she had some secret to give. Maybe she did, but the 'fight' with Bubba wasn't necessarily a secret. Maggie would tell anyone who asked what had really happened, no filter. "I know what everyone is saying about why I did it, but right off the bat, it's not true. He said some nasty stuff to my best friend during the school year, and I'm not one to sit back and let that fly."

And that was that.

INTERACTIONS | @Finnegan Conner, @Alma Stoll

@Bubba McGarry | MENTIONS

Lilly nervously looked at the barrier which she would enter platform 9 3/4 at. She’s heard a bit about Hogwarts from Jacks older brother, Noah. Though she didn’t really know if she should believe any of what he had said. She had also read books about Hogwarts and it’s big towers, the dungeons, the great hall and so on. She prepared so run, and-

-emerged on the platform 9 3/4. The place was full of wizards and witches, she’d almost never seen as many people in her life. A witch with a pointy nose and long black gray hair pushed past her as she tried to make her way to the train.

She’d planned to go with Jack on the train, but in the chaos they had somehow lost each other. She looked around for Jacks dark hair and pale face. She gave up, just hoping there would be an empty compartment to sit in.

She finally managed to get on the train just before it took of, pushing through the crowd of people. She didn’t like the idea of having to socialize too much with people, she just hoped she wouldn’t end up in a compartment with too many people. She held tightly onto her trunk. She felt the train starting even though she hadn’t found a compartment yet and felt herself slightly panicking. She walked quickly past compartment after compartment, each one full of students laughing and having fun. She felt the crowd fading as everyone found compartments, but finally she found one. Inside sat a small and thin-faced boy that looked like a first year. In the seat across from him, sat a girl with short brown hair and brown eyes. She also noticed another girl with light green eyes and brown hair. She walked into the compartment and asked nervously “can I sit here?”

OOC NOTE: I was give permission by Jack Ace to slightly godmode his character.

Attire: Wearing: Slytherin pride, neck ring, kilt, shoes, fang necklace, raven feather in his braid.

Reducio

"It's time to go, laddie."

Colin had gotten back to the Leaky Cauldron with his Seanmamó to collect his trunk and satchel and owl around ten that morning after spending the last few hours at St. Mungo's with Liam. Unlike yesterday when Liam was awake a little bit, his twin was fitfully sleeping today. When his Ma said it was time for him to go, he whispered into Liam's ear that he'd better get better and follow him back to Hogwarts. He put his arms around his brother's neck and he found that he didn't want to let go.

A vague sense that he ought to do something for his brother arose in Colin's heart. His mind countered with the thought that he was twelve, and no healer, and had no idea what needed to be done anyway. Ma called to him and gently pulled Colin away from Liam. She told him everything would be alright, that she and Da loved him so very much, that Liam would follow along once he got well.

And so Colin found himself standing outside of King's Cross on the First of September. He was worried about what lay ahead. So many things had happened over the summer, some wonderful, some horrible; and now he had to leave Liam behind and the leave taking felt like a shroud of lead around his heart.

He looked into his Seanmamó's wise and ancient eyes. He didn't have to look up anymore, he noticed. Colin was pretty sure she hadn't shrunk, which meant he'd gotten taller. She didn't look a whole lot older than Soph's Grandma Collins, who he'd met in July, but he wondered again how old she really was. "You know there is a right time and season for everything, Colin laddie. Look for my owl and you stick close to them lassies of yours! I don't know how you pick your friends, laddie," she said, poking his chest; "but your heart has done a good job of it! Now awa wi ye!"

Once Colin got onto the platform and left his baggage with the attendant, he decided to find a quiet corner to think. He watched as the crowd of parents and students grew and eventually waned as more and more students boarded the train. He thought back to last year when he and Liam got separated and ended up in different compartments. And now they were separated again. Colin's heart felt the weight of the separation and he prayed that his twin would get better quickly and come back to him.

For a long while, he stood on the platform, near one of the great brick pillars that supported the mighty stonework above. He stared at the train that would take him away from his brother, at its open doors, at the students getting on and waving to their families. No one came near him and even as the guards began to blow their whistles signalling that the train would leave, still Colin stood as if rooted to the spot. Some part of his heart held him back, urging him to return to St. Mungo's and his twin.

Another part of him knew that going back to the hospital would be futile. What could he do there anyway? For the first time in his life, Colin wanted only to run! To run away. And even as the brakes hissed and released the wheels, still Colin stood on the nearly empty platform. The door before him was open, but it did not invite him to journey onward. No, the doorway only portended an evil as yet unknown.

A single tear traced its course along Colin's cheek as his shallow breath came more rapidly. An image suddenly flashed before his eyes --- an old photograph of two boys jostling with each other, and they instantly reminded him of himself and Liam, though they were older when the picture was taken. He knew that photograph. It stood on a shelf in the games room at home. Their Da and his own twin, his uncle Colin. It was taken here in King's Cross on the first of September in 1997, as they embarked on their seventh year.

The mighty engine of iron and fire and steam chuffed and the carriage to Colin's left began to move. A metallic bang could be heard from underneath as the couplers clanged into position and the carriage before Colin began to move as well. Colin took several deep and quivering breaths. He had to act --- now!

With a mighty roar of his own and a sudden sense of his most dreaded doom falling upon him, Colin leapt forward and onto the train!

There were a few kids passing from one carriage to another searching, perhaps, for a coveted compartment all to themselves, or perhaps for one full of friends, or even a cozy compartment for two. Colin ignored them, and they seemed to pay him no mind. And as soon as he crossed the threshold, the noise felt dampened and all was shadow.

A great cry of deep sorrow arose within Colin's breast and he collapsed to the floor of the vestibule! The blackness surrounded his body and closed in on his vision and hearing and every other sense he had. He knew only that something terrible had happened. At last he heard voices. Some were older kids who had pushed him to one side as he sat on the floor; others were younger kids. Oi! They make chairs, you know, get up off the floor! --- Oh look! An owl! Isn't it beautiful? --- Who's that on the floor? --- Oh, it's that weird kid. You know who!

As Colin returned to his senses, he found that, indeed, a beautiful owl was perched on his knee. It was snowy white and bore a sort of scarf or collar with a red cross upon it. Colin didn't know what to make of that, but he could see that the envelope it bore was thick and had his name neatly typed upon it. Colin McCoire, the Hogwarts Express, Somewhere on the Floor. Brilliant, Colin thought. He fetched one of the treats he'd made for Uhuu out of his pocket for the owl, and with his heart still pounding, he retrieved the letter.

The owl seemed to look upon him with an expression of compassion before taking off again in search of an open window. Colin stood up, hoisted his satchel upon his shoulder and broke the seal of the envelope. It smelled vaguely iodine and healing potions. The first page bore the seal of St. Mungo's at the top. Colin walked along the narrow gangway, his thoughts turning towards Sophia and Quinn. The morning had been horrible, and he still felt the dread of it.

As soon as he saw the seal on the parchment, Colin knew what it would tell him. Had he not felt the pull on his heart earlier? Had he not felt his doom fall upon even as he got on the train? He read it. It was only a few lines long --- Dear Mr McCoire, We regret to inform you... As soon as the words bashed their way into his brain, Colin let out a cry of despair, a keening that surely everyone in the carriage could hear.

He found himself at the door of a compartment and he scrabbled at the handle to open it. He had no idea who was inside, only that his wobbling knees wouldn't bear him much longer. At last he got the door open and could only make out shapes and noises before him. A couple seemed familiar, while a couple others were completely unknown to him.

Colin stumbled into the compartment, tears streaming down his face. He could hear himself whimpering. He dropped his satchel, and the letters fell from his hands and to the floor. He collapsed onto the seat, fumbled to take off his shoes and socks, and those fell to the floor as well.

Colin turned to face the wall, drew his knees up to his chin and began rocking himself. He shivered.

He felt cold, so very cold.

Note: All of you would notice the letters that fell to the floor. I leave it to one of you to pick it up and read it.

Reducio

Dear Mr McCoire: We regret to inform you that at 11:01 AM your brother Liam succumbed at last to the wounds received this past August 12th. It is with the greatest sympathy that the entire healing staff write to you with our heartfelt condolances.

@Maggie Hawkins | @Jack Ace | @Finnegan Conner | @Alma Stoll | @Lilly Scott