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THE BLYTHE MANSION had been empty all morning. Quite an odd experience, mind you. Having three children; two of which seemed inclined towards mischief and trickery, the family home was alive and going by seven. However, not today.

No noise could be heard from the inside, and the curious neighbors that dared to watch the windows barely saw any shapes walking around the house. If not for the house-elf, the Blythe Mansion would’ve turned into a supposed haunted attraction, thanks to its architectural inspirations taken from the goth era.

If this was any other day for the Blythe, the morning would’ve started at a fast pace.

Mr. Blythe is the first one to leave in a rush. The man doesn’t seem to get his internal clock to work properly, and he’s always late for work. Time is money, as muggles say. Walking down the street to a known wizarding, the tall man would disappear as soon as all eyes turned away from him.

The oldest siblings (if home) are the next to go. Bennedict Blythe is always late too, but unlike his father, the Auror doesn’t seem worried about getting to the Ministry of Magic on time. Talk about a chaotic, arrogant little guy. Bartolomeo goes next; stressed out already. All dressed in white, which makes him look a lot like a ghost.

Then there goes Ms. Blythe, and the house is silent again.

The neighbors rarely get to see the youngest Blythe. Most only know of her existence, thanks to the huge birthday parties the family throws at the beginning of each year, but if you asked them to recognize her, they’d shrug and say they haven’t even seen her before. The child is far too busy hiding, locked away in her bedroom, deep into her writing to care for anything else in the outside world.

But today there was no time for creating fantastical universes and sending unique characters on magical quests, no. September is no ordinary month when you have a child over ten years old in your household. This leads to the comedic scene of all five Blythes walking out of the house, at the very same time, down the street, as the neighbors that had been awake by that time watching in awe, like that was the first sign of the world’s end.

The Blythe family stands together in the middle of King’s Cross, right next to platform 9 ¾. Muggles and wizards alike walk past them, not caring for the scene unfolding of four full-grown adults crying at an eleven-year-old girl.

Cedrella Blythe stares at her doll-like shoes. She’s dressed much like mother: indigo dress hid under her mustard-yellow trenchcoat. Her strawberry blond hair falls in waves over her shoulder, and her eyes are darted down. The girl does not know what to do with her body: her limbs feel far too long and heavy by her sides, so she keeps a light hold on her luggage trolley.

“Oh, my little girl is finally going to become a witch,” says Arthur Blythe, wiping the corner of his eyes in the most dramatic way possible, holding his wife, that has her arms wrapped around his waist.

“I do not remember either of you ever crying when it was time for Bennedict or Bartolomeo to go to Hogwarts,“ that’s all she says because there’s not a lot else her mind can think of at the moment.

“Us leaving meant they’d finally have a moment of peace inside the house,” nods Bennedict, earning a defeated nod from Bartolomeo. While both of them weren't shaking like her parents, there were noticeable tears coming to their red eyes. Bartolomeo's face looks puffy like he's having an allergic reaction to saying goodbye.

"You, on the other hand, are so quiet," says Bartolomeo. "You're like a little rat inside the walls. Always running away from any and all family reunions. It's like you've been playing hide and seek your entire life,"

"He called me a rat," Cedrella turns her unimpressed face towards her parental figures.

Arthur had now covered his face entirely, while mother pets his shoulder as emotional support. Cedrella looks away from the scene, watching a wizard family crossing the barrier. The girl's grip on the trolley grows tighter.

"I mean it endearingly," Bartolomeo smiles. "But now that I think about it, you do share a lot of similarities with rats and--"

"Can I go alone?" asks Cedrella.

"What?"

"I'd like to go alone. Please." states Cedrella, as seriously as possible, turning the trolley in the direction of platform 9 ¾.

Her heart dances in her chest, as she turns to stare at her family. For the first time since she stepped a foot inside King's Cross, she allows some tears to come to her eyes, burning the corners as she takes their image one more time.

If any of them notices how her face turns red, they don't point it out.

"I will not forget to write a weekly letter, father. Yes, I will speak to the ghosts about you, Ben. Yes, Barto, I will tell you who wins the house cup. And yes, mother, I will pay attention to my lessons and get the best grades possible... Can I go now?"

"You forgot something, my dear," smiles Annelise, gently, walking towards her.

Cedrella frowns, "What?

"Have fun," Annelise boops her nose and pushes her forward.

Surprised, Cedrella speeds up. As she's about to hit the wall, the magical barrier opens and she walks right through it.

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word count: 900 words