Ava was just arriving on the platform and she looked around, in a daze. No one paid any attention to her and she wondered what ‘platform and nine and three quarters’ was. There was no sign labeling it, and no one offered her directions. Think Ava. She was a smart girl, and she could figure this out. She looked between platform nine and ten again. There were four columns between the signs, each helping to hold up the coverage. One quarter, she counted. Two quarters. Her eyes lingered on the third column. That would be nine and three quarters. There were a few people there already, but it was such an early hour that most would already be on the train with a cup of coffee and perhaps, a pillow. Her train didn’t leave until later in the afternoon though, and the only time that her dad was able to drop her off was on the way to work. He was apprehensive of the letter at first, but he had eventually relented, telling himself it was only so that she could get ahold of her powers. She was just as apprehensive as him, though curious may have been a better word to describe how she felt. She had always thought she was the only one who was able to change how she looked, and make strange things happen. She watched with astonishment as some boy pushed a trolley straight through the column, she watched as he seemed to disappear in the bricks. She walked up to the column and made a full circle around it. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it, save for the fact she could stick her hand through it. She pushed her hand through and wiggled her fingers. She couldn’t understand why she didn’t feel anything. She stuck her entire arm out and felt air again. Suddenly she felt fabric and she pulled her arm back quickly. She nervously stuck her arm through again…and was tugged through it. She clung to her trolley as she was pulled through, and saw it was the same boy who had moments earlier gone through who pulled her.
“New to this, ‘eh?” He said. “Your parents told ya nothin’”
Parents told her? What parent would have told her? Her step-mum who would rather have her in an orphanage? Her dad who hated her magic so much it wasn’t possible he would know anything of it? She glanced away before answering.
“Of course they did!” It was a lie and she could tell the boy knew it.
“Your parents told you nothing?” He said in surprise. She shook her head and he grimaced. “You're a mudblood aren’t you?” She had no idea what that meant but it didn’t sound good. She shook her head defensively and answered with a ‘no!’ but he just shook his head. “You must be so clueless.” He sighed. She decided she was not going to be friends with this kid.
“Look, I don’t know what a mudblood is, but I never gave your permission to call me that.” With that she turned on her heels and marched away, with a feeling of wounded pride. She still didn’t even know what it meant. She went over to a bench and sat down, pulling a brown sack from the cart holding her belongings. She pulled out a donut and began eating, only stopping when she only had a bite left. She shoved it back in the bag and put it on top of her trunk. She was tired, which was to be expected for such an early time in the morning. She rested her head on the back of the bench and closed her eyes, falling into a light sleep.