It's not just my life that changed today
Ever since I opened my letter, I have been brimming with anticipation for this day. But I must admit, over the past fortnight, that excitement has been slightly overshadowed by one lingering fear that I might not even make it to King’s Cross.
You see, despite our recent visit to Diagon Alley, my mum was still rather sceptical about the whole thing. Not necessarily about the existence of magic, that much had become certain, but rather, she seemed doubtful about the intentions of those at Hogwarts. It wasn’t in her nature to trust easily.
This all came to a head when I, rather unfortunately, told her that Hogwarts was located in Scotland, something I’d discovered while excitedly scanning through my new books at the coffee table. She instantly questioned why she had to pay for travel from Ramsbottom to London, only for me to pass by Ramsbottom again on the train to Hogwarts. It was a fair question, one I didn’t have an answer for.
In that moment, she pulled the plug. She told me she’d look for a different form of education. I couldn’t tell you what truly caused her to react like this. Maybe it was the excuse she’d been waiting for. Maybe she was worried about hidden costs or simply afraid of being alone without me around. Whatever the reason, her mind was set.
There was only one thing for it. I had to get my Nan to knock some sense into her. I nipped around to her house that evening to recruit her help. The words had barely left my mouth before she’d grabbed her coat and was storming towards our home, no plan in mind, just the single-minded confidence that my mum would not be left in peace until she changed her mind.
Truth be told, my mum didn’t put up much of a fight. The scolding transitioned quickly into something far softer. Mum admitted she was overwhelmed, worried about the cost of it all and frightened of how lonely she might be without me. In that moment, I realised how selfish I’d been. I’d only been thinking about the change I was going through, not hers.
We decided that we’d write to each other every day, no matter if it had been a good or bad day. We’d share our new lives as if we were still joined at the hip. Nan also agreed to help with the costs and insisted on taking me to London by train. She made it sound like a favour, saying it would let Mum get to work, but the little skip she did when Mum agreed told another story. For her, anything south of Manchester was like going abroad, and she’d be making the most of it. With everything settled, the anticipation returned.
That brings me to today. I woke my mum to say goodbye. To which i received an embrace as enthusiastic as one can give just after waking up at four in the morning. As soon as my nan arrived, we set off. The journey from Ramsbottom to London took four hours in total. I took the bus and the metro just to reach Piccadilly Station in Manchester. Nan, while a great source of entertainment on what could have been an unbearably dull trip, wasn’t much help when it came to hauling luggage between buses, metros and trains. Still, once we boarded the direct train from Piccadilly to King’s Cross, it was smooth sailing.
When we arrived, we made our way towards the area between platforms nine and ten. We’d been told there would be an escort waiting, someone who could give my nan access to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. We stood there for a while. To others, we must have looked hopelessly lost, a few people even asked if we needed help finding our platform. I began to wonder if we’d arrived too early. But I must admit, my mother’s doubts began creeping back into my mind. Had it all been a joke?
Those thoughts vanished the moment a cheerful man patted me on the shoulder and, in a hushed tone, asked if I was trying to reach Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The relief was indescribable, and then it hit me: I was speaking to a real wizard. For a moment, I was utterly star-struck.
Once I regained my composure, I tuned in just in time to hear him explain how to get onto the platform. I thought I’d misheard him. He wanted me to run straight at a wall. I waited for the punchline, but it never came. When he assured me he was serious, I, perhaps a little too naively, accepted, took a deep breath, and ran straight at the barrier. I was bracing for a collision, ready to laugh it off when I inevitably hit the wall. But the impact never came.
In an instant, I was somewhere else entirely. The smell of burning coal filled the air, harsh but somehow welcoming. The platform was alive with motion: people rushing about, loading trunks, hugging their families. And behind them all stood something utterly magnificent, a gleaming scarlet steam train, the name Hogwarts Express glinting proudly piercing through lingering steam in the air.
Moments later, my Nan and the escort followed through. From the look on her face, she was still trying to process what had just happened. Once she found her footing again, she gave me her final little speech, full of advice, luck, and strict warnings. But I barely heard her. My heart was already racing ahead to what waited beyond the train ride. We hugged tightly, said our goodbyes, and I turned to load my luggage.
And just like that, I was on my way to Hogwarts.
You see, despite our recent visit to Diagon Alley, my mum was still rather sceptical about the whole thing. Not necessarily about the existence of magic, that much had become certain, but rather, she seemed doubtful about the intentions of those at Hogwarts. It wasn’t in her nature to trust easily.
This all came to a head when I, rather unfortunately, told her that Hogwarts was located in Scotland, something I’d discovered while excitedly scanning through my new books at the coffee table. She instantly questioned why she had to pay for travel from Ramsbottom to London, only for me to pass by Ramsbottom again on the train to Hogwarts. It was a fair question, one I didn’t have an answer for.
In that moment, she pulled the plug. She told me she’d look for a different form of education. I couldn’t tell you what truly caused her to react like this. Maybe it was the excuse she’d been waiting for. Maybe she was worried about hidden costs or simply afraid of being alone without me around. Whatever the reason, her mind was set.
There was only one thing for it. I had to get my Nan to knock some sense into her. I nipped around to her house that evening to recruit her help. The words had barely left my mouth before she’d grabbed her coat and was storming towards our home, no plan in mind, just the single-minded confidence that my mum would not be left in peace until she changed her mind.
Truth be told, my mum didn’t put up much of a fight. The scolding transitioned quickly into something far softer. Mum admitted she was overwhelmed, worried about the cost of it all and frightened of how lonely she might be without me. In that moment, I realised how selfish I’d been. I’d only been thinking about the change I was going through, not hers.
We decided that we’d write to each other every day, no matter if it had been a good or bad day. We’d share our new lives as if we were still joined at the hip. Nan also agreed to help with the costs and insisted on taking me to London by train. She made it sound like a favour, saying it would let Mum get to work, but the little skip she did when Mum agreed told another story. For her, anything south of Manchester was like going abroad, and she’d be making the most of it. With everything settled, the anticipation returned.
That brings me to today. I woke my mum to say goodbye. To which i received an embrace as enthusiastic as one can give just after waking up at four in the morning. As soon as my nan arrived, we set off. The journey from Ramsbottom to London took four hours in total. I took the bus and the metro just to reach Piccadilly Station in Manchester. Nan, while a great source of entertainment on what could have been an unbearably dull trip, wasn’t much help when it came to hauling luggage between buses, metros and trains. Still, once we boarded the direct train from Piccadilly to King’s Cross, it was smooth sailing.
When we arrived, we made our way towards the area between platforms nine and ten. We’d been told there would be an escort waiting, someone who could give my nan access to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. We stood there for a while. To others, we must have looked hopelessly lost, a few people even asked if we needed help finding our platform. I began to wonder if we’d arrived too early. But I must admit, my mother’s doubts began creeping back into my mind. Had it all been a joke?
Those thoughts vanished the moment a cheerful man patted me on the shoulder and, in a hushed tone, asked if I was trying to reach Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. The relief was indescribable, and then it hit me: I was speaking to a real wizard. For a moment, I was utterly star-struck.
Once I regained my composure, I tuned in just in time to hear him explain how to get onto the platform. I thought I’d misheard him. He wanted me to run straight at a wall. I waited for the punchline, but it never came. When he assured me he was serious, I, perhaps a little too naively, accepted, took a deep breath, and ran straight at the barrier. I was bracing for a collision, ready to laugh it off when I inevitably hit the wall. But the impact never came.
In an instant, I was somewhere else entirely. The smell of burning coal filled the air, harsh but somehow welcoming. The platform was alive with motion: people rushing about, loading trunks, hugging their families. And behind them all stood something utterly magnificent, a gleaming scarlet steam train, the name Hogwarts Express glinting proudly piercing through lingering steam in the air.
Moments later, my Nan and the escort followed through. From the look on her face, she was still trying to process what had just happened. Once she found her footing again, she gave me her final little speech, full of advice, luck, and strict warnings. But I barely heard her. My heart was already racing ahead to what waited beyond the train ride. We hugged tightly, said our goodbyes, and I turned to load my luggage.
And just like that, I was on my way to Hogwarts.
It's not just my life that changed today
As Sam said goodbye to his family, he couldn't help feeling slightly nervous. Mother had told him right before he boarded the train at platform 9 and 3/4, that she hoped he would make her proud and would try to make friends no matter their status or house. Sam struggled with his trunk but he finally found an empty compartment. Once he got inside, he put his trunk up on the empty space for the trunk to go. However, he did pull out his Potions book to read while he waited. Though, he knew that at some point he would probably be with some other kids his age but for now he had the compartment all to himself. It's not that he doesn't want friends, it's just that he doesn't know how to keep friends. Plus, reading ahead for class seemed to be the best thing to do at this current moment. He could hear the footsteps of many kids trying to find a compartment and he could also hear lots of chattering which was to be honest getting on his nerves slightly. He really didn’t like loud noises which is why he preferred to be either in the library at home or in the garden.
Sam Mangum