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- Dec 26, 2022
It was warm in London, had been all week, even for the very beginning of September. It wasn't unusual for some of summer to still linger in the south of England, but this year it had outstayed its welcome. The news had no solid explanation for the temperature, only that it should break "any day now".
The heat was even more oppressive at King's Cross station, or maybe it only seemedt to be, the closeness of the other travelers amplifying the temperature. This was one of the busier times for King's Cross, as boarding schools across the country began opening back up, and as vacationers reluctantly returned to their normal lives. Tabitha Ashwood was part of the first group.
Ready to start her twelfth year, the second-to-last in the British system, Tabitha was on her way back to her own school. As she watched the others; the kids her age and younger, she saw the same excitement, the same apprehension, the same nerves that she herself felt. That was where the similarities between herself and the rest ended though: they, you see, were muggles.
She watched as they went about their lives, moving and talking and laughing and generally pretending that they, in any way, mattered to the world. Tabitha couldn't say that she hated them, as such, but she did harbor a healthy disdain for the non-magic inhabitants of the world. They were like children: irritatingly naive and, to be fair, innocent in their own way. Well, the ones who weren't trying to fuck the whole planet up, at least. There was only so much that even magic could do to try to clean up the mess the muggles made and continued to make.
Tabitha watched them, green eyes looking out from under dark brown hair as she leaned against her luggage cart. They weren't looking at her, not directly, but it still wasn't safe yet. Even as Platform 9 began to thin out, she might still be noticed; seen suddenly disappearing into what should be a solid brick column. It took another five minutes before she felt safe enough.
The luggage cart was one of the smaller ones: Tabitha rarely brought much with her to Hogwarts. The school provided clothes and linens, food, and really any other daily needs. As such, all she had packed was underwear and a few "everyday" clothes. Due mostly to not being weighed down, the cart moved easily when she began, casually, pushing it in the general direction of the pillar. A quick glance to the side and behind confirmed that nobody was looking. In four steps she had gone from a casual stroll to an all-out sprint, aimed directly at a column of bricks.
The transition between Platform 9 and Platform 9¾ felt to her something like running through a short, black tunnel. For a few steps, Tabitha was surrounded by nothing: a dark abyss that probably wasn't entirely empty. Less than two seconds later, though, she emerged again onto a platform nearly identical to the one she had just left, except now, all the muggles were gone. These people, these were her people.
As she looked around, Tabitha saw faces that were new and old, and faces that might have been old but that she had forgotten. Parents were there to see-off their children, many of them for the first time. Did I look like that on my first day? Tabitha wondered, so fresh-faced, so eager, so… intimidated? She wouldn't admit, even to herself, that she had been terrified that first day. She had never been away from home, not without her parents. They had gone with her that first time, but never after.
But, this wasn't the first day, or at least, it wasn't that first day. No, this was year 12, the year in which, if you believed the rumors, things at Hogwarts… changed. The upper classmen, that is, the 12th and 13th year students, enjoyed certain privileges at the school, so the stories went. One thing was for sure: they had their own section of the dorm that was separated off from the rest, accessible only to them. That itself would probably be enough, but again, the gossip hinted at other, nebulous things.
"Help ye with yer bags there miss?" A man's voice from behind and to her right. Tabitha turned, pulled from her thoughts back into reality. A few feet from her stood a red-uniformed porter, smiling pleasantly.
"Hm? Oh. Oh, yes, I would appreciate that," Tabitha said, not quite making it to a "thank you", but getting more or less close. "There's not much so hopefully it won't be too much trouble." Maybe a little imperious, but not rude either.
"Won't be a problem," the porter assured her amiably. Not knowing what to say back, Tabitha gave a single nod, then kept walking.
The train was already parked, its red and black cars starting to fill with students. Tabitha never knew which car to board: they weren't reserved by house or year or, really, by anything. That sometimes created some… interesting situations. But, since she didn't know who was in which car, none was any better than another. She picked the third one, at random, stepping aboard, climbing the steps up, and ducking into the car.
The passageway was dark, though in a warm kind of way, with lighting that may, or may not, have been actual gas lamps: she had never checked or asked. Others were in the passageway, looking for seats in the private compartments. Most of the doors were shut, including the one just to her right, but she could hear voices from behind the door, and thought she could make out shadows playing over the frosted glass. As she listened, Tabitha was pretty sure she recognized someone. Getting reacquainted with friends and… not friends… was going to happen eventually. Was she ready for it already?
Should Tabitha:
A. Knock, open the door, and join the group? She'll run into someone she knows eventually anyway.
B. Move along and try to find an empty compartment? Now isn't the time for reunions, and she really needs to get herself back into the headspace of another, very different, school year.
Poll is above the story.
The heat was even more oppressive at King's Cross station, or maybe it only seemedt to be, the closeness of the other travelers amplifying the temperature. This was one of the busier times for King's Cross, as boarding schools across the country began opening back up, and as vacationers reluctantly returned to their normal lives. Tabitha Ashwood was part of the first group.
Ready to start her twelfth year, the second-to-last in the British system, Tabitha was on her way back to her own school. As she watched the others; the kids her age and younger, she saw the same excitement, the same apprehension, the same nerves that she herself felt. That was where the similarities between herself and the rest ended though: they, you see, were muggles.
She watched as they went about their lives, moving and talking and laughing and generally pretending that they, in any way, mattered to the world. Tabitha couldn't say that she hated them, as such, but she did harbor a healthy disdain for the non-magic inhabitants of the world. They were like children: irritatingly naive and, to be fair, innocent in their own way. Well, the ones who weren't trying to fuck the whole planet up, at least. There was only so much that even magic could do to try to clean up the mess the muggles made and continued to make.
Tabitha watched them, green eyes looking out from under dark brown hair as she leaned against her luggage cart. They weren't looking at her, not directly, but it still wasn't safe yet. Even as Platform 9 began to thin out, she might still be noticed; seen suddenly disappearing into what should be a solid brick column. It took another five minutes before she felt safe enough.
The luggage cart was one of the smaller ones: Tabitha rarely brought much with her to Hogwarts. The school provided clothes and linens, food, and really any other daily needs. As such, all she had packed was underwear and a few "everyday" clothes. Due mostly to not being weighed down, the cart moved easily when she began, casually, pushing it in the general direction of the pillar. A quick glance to the side and behind confirmed that nobody was looking. In four steps she had gone from a casual stroll to an all-out sprint, aimed directly at a column of bricks.
The transition between Platform 9 and Platform 9¾ felt to her something like running through a short, black tunnel. For a few steps, Tabitha was surrounded by nothing: a dark abyss that probably wasn't entirely empty. Less than two seconds later, though, she emerged again onto a platform nearly identical to the one she had just left, except now, all the muggles were gone. These people, these were her people.
As she looked around, Tabitha saw faces that were new and old, and faces that might have been old but that she had forgotten. Parents were there to see-off their children, many of them for the first time. Did I look like that on my first day? Tabitha wondered, so fresh-faced, so eager, so… intimidated? She wouldn't admit, even to herself, that she had been terrified that first day. She had never been away from home, not without her parents. They had gone with her that first time, but never after.
But, this wasn't the first day, or at least, it wasn't that first day. No, this was year 12, the year in which, if you believed the rumors, things at Hogwarts… changed. The upper classmen, that is, the 12th and 13th year students, enjoyed certain privileges at the school, so the stories went. One thing was for sure: they had their own section of the dorm that was separated off from the rest, accessible only to them. That itself would probably be enough, but again, the gossip hinted at other, nebulous things.
"Help ye with yer bags there miss?" A man's voice from behind and to her right. Tabitha turned, pulled from her thoughts back into reality. A few feet from her stood a red-uniformed porter, smiling pleasantly.
"Hm? Oh. Oh, yes, I would appreciate that," Tabitha said, not quite making it to a "thank you", but getting more or less close. "There's not much so hopefully it won't be too much trouble." Maybe a little imperious, but not rude either.
"Won't be a problem," the porter assured her amiably. Not knowing what to say back, Tabitha gave a single nod, then kept walking.
The train was already parked, its red and black cars starting to fill with students. Tabitha never knew which car to board: they weren't reserved by house or year or, really, by anything. That sometimes created some… interesting situations. But, since she didn't know who was in which car, none was any better than another. She picked the third one, at random, stepping aboard, climbing the steps up, and ducking into the car.
The passageway was dark, though in a warm kind of way, with lighting that may, or may not, have been actual gas lamps: she had never checked or asked. Others were in the passageway, looking for seats in the private compartments. Most of the doors were shut, including the one just to her right, but she could hear voices from behind the door, and thought she could make out shadows playing over the frosted glass. As she listened, Tabitha was pretty sure she recognized someone. Getting reacquainted with friends and… not friends… was going to happen eventually. Was she ready for it already?
Should Tabitha:
A. Knock, open the door, and join the group? She'll run into someone she knows eventually anyway.
B. Move along and try to find an empty compartment? Now isn't the time for reunions, and she really needs to get herself back into the headspace of another, very different, school year.
Poll is above the story.