Through the grey brick and mortar archway, one which separated platforms nine and ten at King’s Cross Station, you could step if you were a particular kind of person. It is a grave secret of course that betwixt these signs suspended above the arch, if you were to pass through you would find platform nine and three quarters. The Muggles, you see, they wouldn’t believe you, but sure enough provided you are accompanied with a trunk, a wand, a pewter cauldron of a standard size and an animal of your choosing so long it is either a cat, an owl or a toad, you can pass through and see with your own wide, inquisitive eyes, the platform that on the first of September, would house the scarlet Hogwarts Express locomotive.
That particular year, in the chilly autumnal air that was making fog amidst the skyscrapers and romantic Victorian architecture of London, a pair of young blondes were waiting impatiently in the car park of the expansive railway terminal. With a pink woollen hat pulled down over the dirty blonde pigtails that were tied with two pink fuzzy hairbands. Bundled up in her coat against the cold, the young Millie Finnigan bounced beside her father, peering into the boot of the little blue Ford fiesta into which Seamus had loaded their trunks. He paused a little in jostling with her brother’s and he turned a dark eye upon her in mock-warning. The little girl coloured and stepped away, bumping into the legs of her mother.
“Watch what you’re doing, Melissa,” Lavender scolded, snapping her compact shut with a disapproving sneer. Millie’s eyebrows quivered and she dropped her gaze down to her trainers, scuffed and muddy already despite having been bought new.
Lavender’s gaze seemingly followed for until Seamus managed to get both trunks parked on the pavement, Millie was subjected to the forked tongue of her mother who despaired at her openly for being so slothenly. Millie screwed her lip between her teeth and bit down, shame flooding her features as she wrung her hands together in front of herself. Lavender scoffed in the end and stormed away, grasping the elder of the two children by the scruff of the neck, electing to march into the station for, according to her, there was nothing to help her daughter. Apparently even Hogwarts could not fix what was so irreparably broken.
“Ignore your mother,” Seamus’ voice found Millie’s ear as he crouched down beside her. His warm palms took up her own smaller fists and he squeezed them tightly, fixing her with his imploring, feeling gaze. “Sweetheart, listen to me. You are going to be brilliant at Hogwarts, okay? You’re going to be absolutely amazing. You ignore your bloody mother like I always tell you, okay? She’s batshit crazy, anyrate. You alright, my darlin’?” Millie managed a nod and Seamus drew her to him. Her little form almost disappeared in the midst of his coat and his strong arms but she clung onto him, wiping the few tears that had freed themselves from her eyes in his shirt.
Seamus offered Millie his hand once he stood up properly and she shook her head, electing to fetch the travel case she’d put her kitten in. He smiled, reaching to pat her on her hat-clad head, and went to retrieve the trunks. Steadily the two made their way into the station. Lavender had gone on ahead without a second thought to them. It had always been rather like that. Upon discovering that her daughter wasn’t going to be the pretty girl in pink ruffles and little white shoes, Lavender rejected Millie altogether in favour for Elliot who proved to have a better temperament for coddling. In many ways, Millie was too much like her mother but had enough Seamus to combat the crazy. Thus she and her father made a natural pairing, especially in combating Lavender’s daily obstacles that kept them from an easy life.
Inside, the station was thrumming with activity and further on, through the barrier onto the main platform, the place was abuzz. Seamus took her up to the porter and had the trunks loaded on that way as Elliot and Lavender were nowhere to be found. He handed Millie her hand luggage, a small rucksack that had iron on patches all over it that announced different holiday destinations and sports teams, and then helped the porter put the trunks on before guiding her down the platform. Then, after exchanging another hug and a kiss with his daughter, Seamus helped her up onto the train with her pet carrier and rose to watch as she waved at him, backing into the corridor before disappearing entirely.
The first year to be made her way through the train corridor, ducking under the arms of sixth years flirting amidst themselves and third years bustling through, yelling at those of her ilk. She nibbled on her lower lip all the while, her eyes furtively searching for an empty compartment. In the end, when she finally came across one she broke forward and slammed herself into the door, opening it up and seizing inside before throwing it shut behind herself. It was wonderfully quiet inside and Millie exhaled, reaching up to tug her hat off of her hair.
“I’m sorry Lucy,” she cooed all of a sudden, remembering her cat. She lifted the pet carrier up onto the seat and crouched down on the floor, looking inside to see the kitten glaring openly at her. “I’m sorry!” She cried at him. “I’ll let you out shall I?”
Millie pulled at the grate and opened it up, watching hopefully as Lucius Malfoy the Kitten crawled out onto the seat. He meowed balefully at her and sat himself down.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, patting him on the head gently. He glared at her again and she smiled, lifting the carrier off and stowing it away under the seat. She then hopped up onto it and sat by the window, putting her bag down beside her before beginning to rifle through it in search of her packet of cookies. She opened them up and held the packet out to Lucius who sniffed derisively.
“Your loss,” Millie told the cat, simply, taking out a cookie for herself. As she bit into it, smirking at him, the cat found he was inclined to agree but curled up beside her nonetheless, well aware that it was going to be a long, long year.