III. the dearly departed.

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GOBLET OF FIRE

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GOBLET OF FIRE.

TRUTH be told, Ophelia did almost cry a few times at the thought of leaving her mother. She teared up in Fortescue's ice cream shop seeing her mother so happy, she teared up during dinner in their hotel room, she teared up twice when they took a long, late night walk to get a good look of London Bridge and she got a bit misty-eyed when her mother woke her up that morning.

Mrs Dearborn had been nothing but good to her, never once resented her for having the magic she herself didn't possess, never once lost her patience over being woken up in the middle of the night for ten years straight.

So when Ophelia stood on the outside of King's Cross, sheltered by the glass top over the taxi section from the garish September rain that was pummelling the concrete, her eyes were very used to sudden bouts of tears. "Bye, mum," she said, trying very hard to keep her voice even.

"Have fun, learn a lot," Kindra replied firmly, stroking her daughter's dark hair, "don't get homesick."

"I'll send lots of letters," Lia said sincerely. "Expect an owl every week and you best reply."

Her mother smiled sadly, dark eyes flickering over her daughter. The Levitt girl had already changed into her new plain robes. "I'll be alright, you know. I'm not senile."

"Okay," Ophelia said and gave a smile back, slightly reassured. "The platform is on the arch of Platform 10, just walk straight through. Muggles don't care."

"Ten minutes," Kindra finished. "Get going before you end up staying here after all."

Ophelia kicked up the wheel of her trolley cart, Arthur squeaking excitedly in his cage and she felt like she was starting primary school all over again. She wasn't sure if she felt so sickly because of happiness or nerves. She had to resort to short sentences to keep her breath steady. "Right, okay, love you."

"Love you too," her mother quickly slipped back into the taxi with a wave, rain hitting her blonde hair instantly, leaving the door open to see her only daughter wave back. "Go!"

Lia nodded, trying to remind herself to be brave and not a total wet-wipe. She waved once more before pushing her cart away, down the ramp and into the large station. She wandered with a light anticipation, eyes darting from place to place, sign to sign, terrified that she might make a mistake.

To her delight, she spotted a few other students, and the sight still made her a bit woozy with shock. They carried owls in cages and chatted in small groups, effortless and familiar with each other. This was the part that made her feel sick, realising everyone already had friends and tight groups and she was just the new girl stuck in four years too late.

"Platform 10," she mumbled to herself as she moved along the overhead bridge to the right place in the train station. Ophelia kept looking around for other people to see if she was going in the right direction and kept track of a boy in slightly ordinary clothing with a trunk and a scarf wrapped around his neck, yellow and black. Hufflepuff, Lia recalled.

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