"All too real honestly.."

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ℳℯ𝓃𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃: Nah
𝒟𝒶𝓉ℯ: September 1st
ℰ𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸ℯ𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉: Platform 9 3/4
"French " (2a4a7e)
"English"
"Accented"
Thoughts
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"Is this it..?"
The mans clubbed fingers unruffled a piece of parchment. "Nine and three over fourths...Nine and three over fourths!?" He'd look a bit closely, seeming like he hasn't seen that part before. The stirred man looked around the Kings Cross Station.

The sign 'Platform 8' came into his sight.
Then 'Platform 9'...
....'Platform 10'.
He'd look between the space of Platform 9 and 10, it's filled with bustling muggle people in their day-to-day activities.

"I think it's called Nine and Three-Quarters father." The boy corrected.
Chatt's hand was cletched into the trolley, he loosened his grip as he stood beside his father, Gabriel Auclair. He'd also look around, heavily confused. "Maybe—It's between the platforms..?" He clenched his fist into the handle again, as if he was preparing. "You run then. If you're so smart." his father chuckled lightly. Chatt punched his shoulder playfully. "No way, I'll look crazy." He and his father laughed heartedly.

..Right, they were still stranded.

"Sorry my boy, Beauxbaton was pretty easier than this.." His father didn't look into his eye when stating that sentence, he was still busy trying to find the designated platform. Chatt just shrugged his shoulders. He rested his forearms on the handle and slumped himself. "Guess I'll never make it then..." he said, with an obviously sarcastic tone that his father could only smirk at.
Chatt had muggle friends in Lyon and in Birmingham. Sure, he's ecstatic to experience the wizarding world his father mentioned all and about. But rightfully so—everyone gets mildfully sad when leaving the bond they shared with the certain kind of people am I wrong?

As they both were starting to lose hope, well—mostly it was Gabriel who was starting to lose hope. He'd notice another family, A mother, with two boys. One slightly older and more mature. The other, younger and rugged. Both were carrying trolleys filled to the top, like everything was crammed all at the same time. How is it not falling apart..?

"Right then—your brother will set off first—then you'll follow on, understood?" Said the middle-aged woman. Before the two boys could reply, Gabriel walked over, towering over the woman. "Ah..Excusez-moi—sorry to pardon but—could..you tell me where platform Nine and..Three-Quarters....?" He looked back to Chatt, checking if he said the right thing. Chatt nodded lazily. "Yes—Platform Nine and Three-Quarters is?"
.
.
The woman looked dazily into his face. Gabriel was looking into her expression. "Did I disturb her? Why is she looking at me like that?" He thought deeply whilst furrowing his eyebrows. Chatt let out a chuckle and pushed his trolley 'til he was standing beside his father. Gabriel looked at him, making an expression that one could read, Did I do something wrong?
Chatt shook his head. No. More so, Chatt was waiting for her to say something to confirm his suspicion.
.
.
"Great Merlin....of—of course!" The woman waved her hand frantically.

There it is.

His fathers 'prime' or so to say—his good looks has never left him. Let's say...he aged like wine. He could woo or sway any woman near his age—or either. Tragically he isn't aware of this. Well, for the best I mean.

I guess the woman realized she was certainly being frantic and awkward as she snapped back into reality. "Is this your lad? My, what a strapping young boy he is!" She'd glance at Gabriel "Just like his father I suppose!".
Gabriel laughed lightly
"Yes, Thank you for it. But–"
"Oh no worries..! My son here is also starting Hogwarts as a first year! Fret not!"
"Ah..how lucky I suppose."
"9 3/4 is just there."
.
The woman pointed to a solid barrier..
Both father-and-son looked at the direction, and both father-and-son thought the same thing.
.
.
.
"What?"
.
.
.
"Ah!"
Both father-and-son looked back to her.
"Of course, of course, A Muggle are we?"
"Muggle...Muggle..?" He murmured.
"...Non-magique—ha! No. No we are not." He let out a smile.
"Pure-Blooded."

The middle-aged woman looked between the young man and his father. "So, you must be from Beauxbaton? The poncy French academy was it?" She asked. Chatt side-eyed her. "Isn't it obvious?" His father looked at him, with a smile that only showed for a second.
"Yes, yes I am." He replied.
"Well that must be why you got splendid manners and—and what not—" She said giggly, but only until she was interrupted by her older son. "Mum, may we be off now? We're gonna be late for the train for Merlins sake."
.
.
Right. The train.
"Oh, oh yes! Goodness me. Dear, just follow how we do it." He patted Chatt on the back.

Chatt immediately straightened himself. "Yes, yes of course ma'am." He clenched his fist once more. He watched as the oldest one went through first, he ran straight to it then suddenly—gone!
"Simply just run through the barrier! Give it a good push dear!"
"Right." Chatts nervousness was fondling over him. He watched as the youngest one went.
"Now it's your—"
Chatt immediately went straight ahead.
.
.
.
.
He opened his eyes and saw another platform..he looked around.
'Platform 9¾' the sign showed.
Everywhere he looked was bustling, kids his age, older kids, adults. It was quite overwhelming to be honest.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. As he figured, it was his father.
His father was looking at him everywhere. Everywhere and his belongings in the trolley.

"Do you have your books?"
"Yes."
"Is your wardrobe packed?"
"Yes."
"You have your wand with you?"
"Yes."
"Owl?"
"Yes."
"Phone?"
"Yes—"

.
.
.
"Wait—"
"Give me your phone."
"Wait, I just need to do something really quick —"
he quickly pulled it out.
But as soon he got it out from his jacket pocket, his father confiscated it.
"It's too late to use your phone now." His father laughed. "You're already inside the magical world." "Fuck." "Hey now."

The train blew its horn, preparing to leave.
"Alright, my son—you have a great day okay?" He leaned down to ruffle his hair and gave a quiet peck.
"Yes father."
As Chatt turned around to leave, he looked back, he saw his father standing still, hands inside his pockets. Like waiting for it to happen, but also restraining himself to do something stupid.

He had a worried smile.
Chatt could tell.

Chatt looked back to the train, sighed.
"This is really happening is it?"
He murmured as he got on the train.
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Guys apply im not scary