____________________________________________________________________________
It's always been him.
She smiled.
Our souls just dance the same.
Atticus
_____________________________________________________________________________
In a small deserted street just around the corner from the great Kingscross train station in London, if anyone had paid particular attention, they would have heard the unusual noise of a bursting soap bubble.
Strange indeed, because that certainly was not a bubble bursting.
Two figures materialised out of nothing, an eleven-year-old girl and a creature with a rather bizarre appearance. The girl turned and began to observe her companion.
Large, bat-like ears came out of a bald and bony head. A hooked and protruding nose, dark and sunken eyes and thin lips adorned the gaunt face. The girl was rather tall for her age, and the creature only reached her shoulders with its hunched figure. The dress-like worn rag could not hide the thinness of his body.
Frankly, I can not say it is a creature pleasant to the eye.
She did not linger on the exterior, because the creature had been a source of comfort and friendship since she could remember, a faithful companion, austere and with a fierce bite, but a companion no less.
"The little Miss has to go on alone, for now, Kreacher can not accompany her amid those filthy Muggles. Kreacher will wait for her beyond the barrier, on the platform." And without waiting for an answer, the house-elf vanished in the air.
He is so rude and brash that I am surprised grandmother did not come back from the Underworld to congratulate him.
Crossing the street, she observed with rapt attention everything around her. Cars stopped at traffic lights, people on the road walking, running, or chatting with each other, and she wondered how many of the people who crossed her path suspected that the little girl with the large birdcage was a witch.
No one. Muggles are so oblivious.
It was quite a long journey, but finally, after entering the station entrance, she was heading for the tracks, more precisely to the platform between tracks nine and ten. She knew what to look for, no need to alarm the muggle train controller that would surely snap to her inquiry of the Platform 9¾.
Breath Betelgeuse, no need to worry.
She cautiously approached the dividing column between the two tracks trying not to look suspicious, leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes. A feeling of emptiness pervaded her for only a millisecond, and then she opened her eyes.
The view was truly magnificent.
She was so enraptured by the red steaming train that, only when a croaking voice to her left called for her, she came to her senses. She directed her attention to the house-elf, eager to board the train that would take her to the most preeminent wizarding school of England.
YOU ARE READING
𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍 | 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘞𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘺
FanfictionKalon /kA-lon/ (n.) Beauty that is more than skin-deep ❝In the dark depth of her steel gaze, you can see the brightest of the stars. She has magic in her eyes that even the stars envy.❞ "Blimey Fred, are you one of those anguished cursed poets now...
