Lost in London

Rain was lightly hitting the window of the express train that had thundered along the rails towards London for the last hour or so. Phaedra’s silver eyes were following the water droplets dancing down from the top window pane down to the bottom. She had one leg slung over the other and a book was resting in her lap. She’d been reading it for the entire journey up until the rain began to fall. Phaedra was determined to find out everything she could about the country she was moving to. She had spent a lot of time in Spain and France but not an extended amount of time in the two countries. She wanted to permanently live in Britain and begin a new life of her own creation; not one ruled by her parents. She was excited but she was also worried. Moving to another country was a big thing for her and moving to one that had some serious political issues was even more disillusioning. She was scared she’d do something stupid but she knew she’d get a good grip on their culture once she lived it for a while.

The train begin to slow and the pace was lessoning. Finally the train pulled to a stop in the station and the patter of rain could be heard over head as it hit the tin shelter that had been made. Phaedra got up and heard the train’s breaks go on. She glanced out of the window and saw some people hugging on the platform. She looked sad for a few seconds as she watched the exchanged but quickly shook herself out of it; reminding herself that she’d find the companionship that humans sought in each other. She’d already promised that she’d be a little more social but she wasn’t sure how much. She was still getting used to being in the real world. It had been a year since she was safely tucked away in her school and things had changed dramatically. She just needed to immerse herself in something that she loved.

Phaedra got up, making sure to put her book on the seat beside her and reached up to take her duffle bags out of the overhead compartment. She put them down on the seat she had been sitting on and slipped her book into the zippy pocket of the first one she put her hand to. Phaedra put one on each shoulder and grasped the other two in each hand. She walked to the open doors of the train and stepped out onto the platform. She looked around and bit her lip. No one was around which meant she was pretty much stuck if she couldn’t find her way out of the station. Phaedra looked around. Okay, so the platform was called Platform 9¾. That was fine. She could deal with that. How would she get back onto the non-magical platform though?

Sighing, Phaedra watched as the train left the station to fetch other travellers or commuters. There went her ride back to Dover. Phae looked back, her eyes taking in every detail of the station before her. She decided it best to actually plan a course of action before she attempted anything stupid. Phaedra walked over to one of the benches and deposited her duffle bags on the green wood which didn’t seem to welcome the weight of them. Phaedra put her hands on her hips and looked around again. She did wonder why the platform was empty but her clothing must have scared everyone away. She didn’t really see what was wrong with it but she wasn’t exactly the style guru at that moment in time.

She was wearing a grey, baggy shirt which was definitely two sizes too big even with the added bagginess. She had a blue blouse on top, left open and a pair of high waisted trousers on with some strange colourful print on them. Then lastly she had some lace up shoes checked with random bits of colour. She looked like she’d fallen out of a bad eighties movie. Either that or she was some kind of colour-blind artist. One or the two. Phaedra didn’t particularly care though. She was comfortable and that was all the mattered. The only problem was that she had to get a room somewhere and she didn’t really know where. She hadn’t thought this all out further than actually getting to the country.

Phaedra bit her lip and pushed the duffle bags along the bench. She sat down and felt the bench groan. It really didn’t like the duffle bags but it didn’t look particularly strong anyway now she thought about it. She looked around again before pulling her book back out from her bag. She smoothed it out and bent the spine a little before beginning to read. She had no idea what she was going to do but she figured it was best to distract herself and worry about it later. If crunch came to crunch she’d have to try and Apparate somewhere in London. The only thing she could think of was that big clock but she doubted that she could get to that. It would all just have to be based on luck then it seemed.

It wasn’t that the theory of Muggle-Magical relations wasn’t an interesting read; it was just that most of it was based on fairytales and wishes by both parties. She did understand why the Wizarding world in Greece was kept separate though. It was only the mainland they couldn’t charm because the area was too big. All of the islands were charmed so Muggles couldn’t see wizards or witches and vice versa. This did make quite a bit of trouble for the witches and wizards who were Muggleborn but they were taken from their homes and their parents were Obliviated. It was all very crude but oddly effective. No one wanted someone with lesser blood to know nothing about Pureblood-Wizarding culture. It probably explained why they were only accepted into school when they were eleven. No doubt they needed the extra years to refine, tame and practice some of their magic as well as learn about the Wizarding world. No one was underprepared otherwise both their foster families and they themselves would have hell to pay.

She was very fortunate but she could never see it that way. She was the pale girl – the one as white as snow – the one whose real genetics had been speculated about since birth. She was no Greek as far as they were concerned. That was fine by her, though. She could live with not having dark skin, dark hair and chestnut eyes. She would have rather been snow than ... trees? Maybe if her brother dyed his hair green then perhaps yes, trees, but she was definitely no Greek – she was a tourist attraction; not exactly what her parents wanted in a child. Perhaps it would have been better if she was some strange child that had been put there by Zeus or something equally insane. Phaedra doubted it would have made much difference though apart from more tourists coming to visit the demi-god version of herself.

Phaedra snapped her book shut despite the protests of the worn spine. She’d read the book a few times, trying to understand some of the discussions inside, but she hated when dark thoughts crept up on her like they just had. It was cruel. She tucked the book back into her bag and wondered how she was going to get a bookshelf that would fit all of her books. She’d been carrying around 1,000 since she’d left Greece and had bought quite a few more during her travels. That was probably why the bench was complaining so. She didn’t exactly weigh a lot but probably enough to give the bench a hard time. Scowling a little to herself, Phae pushed the duffels off of the side of the bench, onto the floor by her feet.

Why didn’t she just stay in Dover and do something else? Why did she have to get a train? If she was honest it was her curiosity and thirst for knowledge that got the better of her. It was that thirst and curiosity that put her here on the platform on a bench that felt like it would break any second. Things weren’t going well but they were better than they could have been. She could have been in Greece somewhere being married off. By all accounts things were going better than she had thought but right now things seemed pretty grim.

She looked up and saw someone actually on the platform. She was pulled up short by this; a few minutes ago the place had been empty. She supposed the rain had stopped people from arriving but she was glad someone was there. He was definitely older than her and very, very English looking which meant he’d probably been out of Hogwarts for a while. He was probably used to the real world and seasoned by it. She was twenty-two and was still getting shocked by how rude and inconsiderate some people were. She especially had problems with the French during her stay in Lyon but she soon asserted herself after a lot of yelling in multiple languages. Most of those in the area had backed off after her outburst and all she could hear in the small tavernas was “don’t anger the Greek girl, she’s an angry one.”

Phaedra took a different book out of the darker green duffel and set it on her lap. She figured that reading up on the conspicuous capital would have been more practical than grabbing a map and stuffing it into her pocket, only to lose it later. She’d wasted money that she couldn’t afford to waste and it irked her slightly. Why she hadn’t spent time learning about England and London in particular prior to her departure from Laganas she had no idea. This irritated her as well. Not only would she firstly have to escape the platform but secondly she’d have to find that department store that hid the location of St. Mungo’s and apply for a job. She truly had not thought things through and was starting to get angry with the slight impulsive streak that seemed to run through her personality like a delta that joined onto the main flow of the river seemingly from no where.

She smiled at the man looking her way and gestured with a pale hand to the space beside her that he could take up if he so wished. She pushed the duffels under the bench with her feet and opened up her book. It was an encyclopaedia of Muggle technology and one she particularly enjoyed. It was charmed to be weightless and it would update every time there was a technological breakthrough in the Muggle world. Phaedra didn’t know why they called non-magical folk Muggles but perhaps it was best not to question it. It just made them seem like little creatures which they really weren’t. They were genius’ – almost to the point of lunacy. She admired them and their advancements. They used their science as a safety net because Magic was not something they could manipulate themselves. Instead they did things equally magical. Phaedra smiled at the man again and her eyes drifted down to her book and to the page that held the details of a new speaking device by... Apple? How odd. What a name.

The book repeatedly called this item a ‘Mobile’ or a ‘Phone’ and Phaedra was beginning to realise that it was a newer version of some of the many ‘Phones’ the Muggles had produced in the past. She knew Nikos used to have an Apple product but she didn’t know if he’d owned a phone specifically made by them. She knew it played music but that was about it. She wasn’t that familiar with Muggle technology but seeing as Britain wasn’t put into magical/non-magical segregation like the Greek islands were she thought it best if she learned a little about Muggle culture. Plus, she’d gotten the encyclopaedia a while back and it was about time she took advantage of its brilliance. She could probably have a small conversation about it but it couldn’t be too in-depth. She’d spent a lot more time on the science of things, not on what the science and brain power produced. This just showed really how much time she had on her hands while travelling. Well, she hadn’t had much time in Italy because she was too busy trying to get away from Greece but she’d spent quite a bit of time reading there; just not as much as she had in the other countries.

She looked up at the sound of someone’s voice and she realised it was the man that she had invited to sit with her. He had a sweet voice; a kind one and it was nice to hear. He did have a strange smile on his face though but it suited him. She smiled softly and her hand went to the line she had been reading, her index finger marking where she had been. “Kali- uh...Good Morning.” She said awkwardly once she’d caught herself speaking Greek. Her accent was quite thick. She didn’t really want to be speaking in her native tongue on top of the accent. It wasn’t that she didn’t want anyone to know about her place of origin but she doubted that this man knew how to speak Greek. She wondered if she’d had been pleasantly surprised if she went on to say Kalimera but she doubted it. The most the British ever learned in the way of languages was French or Spanish and occasionally German. She knew all of those but she wasn’t one to boast. She needed to learn it as she needed to be able to communicate with anyone from Europe. She knew a few other languages but she didn’t have a huge language base.

Phaedra turned the page of the book and a large illustration of the mechanics inside the phone appeared. She smiled a little to herself and began to read the annotations to see how it worked. The screen was apparently touchable or something. She guessed that just meant you could navigate without a number pad. That made things easier no doubt but she didn’t that it would be so easy if you were to drop it into a glass of water or a puddle by accident. Phaedra felt something begin to vibrate against her ankle and she looked down. It was either one of her Care of Magical Creatures books beginning to wake up or that stubborn little kitten from Lyon had stowed away in one of her duffels. She expected both. No doubt the book would start to attack the poor unsuspecting animal soon and she’d have to rescue it. But until then she’d just wait and let both cat and book purr to their hearts content.

She felt the man slide over a little to look at her book. She didn’t know how or why but she’d always been particularly sensitive to people reading or looking over her shoulder at something. It was probably why she liked to read alone. She hated the scrutiny she always used to get from her Professors and her parents. She got it all of the time, on her essays, on a little bit of research – anything. That really put her on edge. She hated it. It wasn’t a phobia or anything. She liked spending time looking up the phobias for her fears; it was fun. But no, this wasn’t a phobia it was more like something that made the blonde hairs on the back of her neck stick up.

She looked over the man and smiled a little shyly. She watched him search through the papers on his lap; obviously looking for something. He had a lot of paper with him yet no bag. She religiously carried her quilted messenger bag. Although right now it was in one of the duffels so this time didn’t really count. But she never went anywhere without it. Usually it didn’t match what she was wearing but she had an odd clothing style anyway. It was probably because she catered for the sun, not for the cold weather England had but she was glad it was getting closer to the summer. That meant there would be a bit more warmth around in the air.

She saw something flutter out from the papers and land on the floor by the man’s feet. She put her thumb in her book and flipped the cover over so it was closed but the page still kept. Phae leaned down and plucked the piece of paper off of the floor. She realised it was a train ticket, probably something he’d need later. She straightened back up and held it out to the man. “Are you looking for this?” she asked, looking down at the ticket and then back up at the man’s face. She still didn’t get why he didn’t have a bag. Shuffling through the papers like that....it made him look horribly disorganised but in a sweet way. She smiled a little and opened her book again with her other hand so she could continue to read it once he had taken the ticket from her.

Was that easy to see through her? Evidently it was. Although Phaedra had made no move to correct his assumption at first after a seconds of thought she nodded slowly. She put her bookmark into her book, marking the page and closed it with a small snap. She wasn’t sure what made it so obvious. She thought that if she was in England then she could blend in instead of sticking out like a sore thumb in Greece. Obviously that wasn’t the case. She couldn’t blend in anywhere but she wasn’t sure what made her features so distinct. That was what aggravated her the most. She liked the way she looked but it was annoying when people automatically assumed she was from elsewhere. The French did it and so did the Italians but she could mask her accent there. Here she could not and that frustrated her even more. “No.” She said finally. “I am from Greece.”

His second comment caught her off guard. Phaedra looked down and saw her bag moving from side to side in awkward movements. She put her book down between them on the bench and reached down to open up the duffel. The little kitten from Lyon sprang from inside and jumped up onto the bench. Phaedra hastily closed the bag before the books started escaping and lifted the kitten onto her lap. She smoothed the fur and the animal instantly began to purr from the attention. She smiled a little to herself and scratched the cat between its ears. She had no idea how it got into her bag but she was sort of glad it did in the end. The animal glanced up at the man beside her and she smirked, clearly the kitten was uncomfortable around other people but it seemed harmless enough and he was deemed ‘appropriate’ after a few hesitant sniffs.

She nodded to him when he took the ticket and smiled softly. She wasn’t sure where he was going but it wasn’t as if it really had anything to do with her. Phaedra smoothed the fur down the cat’s back and picked her book up. She opened it back up on the page she’d been reading before and soon found the line she’d left off at. She wasn’t really holding up her end of the conversation well but she wasn’t a conversationalist – she wasn’t a gossip monger, she was a researcher and, basically, a bookworm. She hated having to really converse with people. She found the whole meeting process horribly awkward. The only one she truly felt safe and happy around was Nikos and he was...how many miles away? A fair few no doubt.

She heard the sound of a train rolling into the station and a few people got off of the platform, making their way to a wall. Phaedra turned slightly and watched as they disappeared through it. She sussed out that it was probably the barrier that lead onto the Muggle platform. That definitely saved her a little bit of worrying. At least she knew now she’d be able to successfully get out of Kings Cross in all due time. Phaedra felt the bench shift and looked up to see the man run after the train, shouting out and asking it to stop. It was all in vain though, Phaedra could see that already.

She bit her lip and watched as he made his way back over. He looked sullen, defeated and Phaedra couldn’t help but question why. Trains, although important, were always coming and going. He could always take the next one. But she didn’t question it. She just smiled apologetically and closed her book once more. “I’m sorry. Perhaps you could get the next one?” she suggested.

Phaedra raised a slender eyebrow. Wasn’t the Ministry of Magic meant to be a secret? That was another thing she had yet to read up on although it hadn’t really occurred to her that she needed to. That was completely amiss of her though as well as neglectful and she made a mental note to read up on them a bit later. She closed her book and put it down beside her. The kitten meowed and Phaedra ran a slender hand through its thick fur before glancing at the man who seemed genuinely worried about losing his job. She didn’t know if the Minister was as fierce as the man portrayed him but Phaedra didn’t doubt that she’d find out eventually. Phaedra scratched the kitten under its chin and the small animal began to purr. Her eyes followed a piece of paper dancing in the light breeze that drifted around the platform. She shook her head and glanced at the man. Was he normally this worried? It was infectious though and Phaedra found herself getting a little bit antsy for a reason unknown to her.

She laughed lightly and smirked at him. “Are you not fond of Obliviating people?” she asked pleasantly. If he didn’t want to lose his job then he shouldn’t really have been talking about Magical Organisations to just anyone. She could have been non-magical or some kind of exiled half-breed looking for revenge. Although granted she was neither but it was a possibility. He definitely needed to be more careful if he didn’t want the Muggle world to find out about magic. “But nether less I will keep your ‘secret’” she smirked. “Although, the Ministry of Magic isn’t the biggest secret Britain keeps as it is widely known by the magical community unless one has been living under some sort of stone...” she said thoughtfully. “But that is neither here nor there. I will not tell a soul that you cannot keep your tongue around strangers Mister...?”