“Well, we all drew the bloody short straw, didn’t we?” Baldric Pierson raised an eyebrow at his colleagues as he came to stand before them on the busy platform. It was thronging with parents and children, all shouting about forgetting things and questioning where their friends were.
Baldric had been owled by Theodore the week before, letting him know in no uncertain terms that he had, quote, ‘the misfortune of helping to convey students new and old alike into the arms of our fine establishment once more’. Baldric conjectured, while mulling over the letter with his husband in bed that night, that their Headmaster must have either had daddy-brain or had had the majority of a bottle of merlot before sitting down to write it out. Bae had seen and admired just how enthusiastic Theodore had been about Connor but Ben was convinced that it was the latter that Theo had indulged in. The Gryffindor had to agree with his Slytherin, ultimately, and laughed before reaching over to turn out the light.
Victoire Weasley and Melissa Hayes had had different experiences – and different letters. Millie’s had been much shorter – composed of “You. Train. Sept 1st. – T” and the owl had been off out of the window again before Millie could even go off to fetch it a treat. Victoire’s had been slightly more modest in its request, though the order was clear. Theodore did not, after all, know that blonde witch as well as he did the other so he couldn’t be nearly as brusque. It was a close run thing, though.
So, they found themselves on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, all in part reliving some of their own Hogwarts memories. The platform rendered mixed feelings inside the bellies of all three wizards. Baldric’s eyes were drawn to the column not too far from the portal to the Muggle platform where his father would stand habitually, whether he and his sister were going or coming back. His mother would never be with him. Lavender had never enjoyed the interruption to her day of seeing off or collecting her children and thus it was always Seamus, stood at the very front, beyond the yellow line, waiting eagerly for his children. Victoire had memories of being thrust off the train in his hideous Weasley bundle. It wasn’t something she could ever remember enjoying. Setting eyes on her parents waiting patiently with their other family members was always a welcome reprieve from the madness that would ensue in the coming days when Molly had them all down at the Burrow to celebrate the end of term. They made an unlikely trio, really.
“Perhaps it will be alright,” the Mediwitch attempted to stay positive as she handled her scuffed briefcase, turning it from one palm to another as she stood there, quite unsure about what to do with herself. She still wasn’t wholly comfortable around the Pierson and the Hayes, although both were friendly enough. They weren’t really what she’d call friends, however. She had always felt rather outside of their circle – something she attributed to her own deficiencies rather than it being any fault of theirs. They were always welcoming. Perhaps it was a Gryffindor thing that she had missed out on in her school years.
“It’ll be fine,” Millie waved her hand dismissively through the air, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She could sense Baldric’s disquiet well enough. He hadn’t liked being on the train ever since Keiran’s accident. He’d not seen any hope in the scarlet locomotive after that – just death. She couldn’t say she bore much confidence in the machine, either, but she was determined to be the hopeful one of the group and thus broke rank first to lead them aboard behind a rabble of excited fourth years.
“After you, Vic,” Bae prefaced before throwing forward a disparaging, “fine like a hole in the head, Mills!”
“I’m quite partial to one of those, Professor Pierson,” came the blithe retort over her shoulder as they shuffled down the train corridor towards their compartment.
As she was first on, Victoire was charged with opening the door to the compartment and she couldn’t help her heart as it dropped into her stomach at the sight of her sister. She had not factored this in – the appearance of Dom on the train. She would have thought she could at least have that brief reprieve before sitting at the same table as her. Victoire didn’t know what to do about the awkward feelings she had regarding her sister anymore. She almost felt it was too late to really fix things.
“Hello,” she offered, looking between them before moving to lift her briefcase up onto the luggage rack.
“Vic, I’ve got that,” Baldric interjected, his fingers curling around the case. She let go of it and watched, a grateful smile crossing her lips, as he pushed it up onto the rack, his own and Millie’s bags joining hers not a moment later. Then, the younger witch flopped down into a seat beside Selwyn.
“How’re you?” Mille chorused, nudging her shoulder against his, a smile bright on her face.
“Alright there, Dom?” Baldric asked, sitting down beside the Weasley, sensing the difficulty Victoire was having with the entire situation. “How’s your … err… sorry, I can’t remember his name. You’re with that feller from the Leaky, though, right? Can’t say I’ve been there in ages. Haven’t really had the chance to get to know him. Nice, though, isn’t he?”
This was the world of small talk that was the last Victoire had wanted to enter into. Merlin help her.