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BLEAK CLOUDS DUSTED THE THIN LANDSCAPE OF MEAGRE GREY SKIES, a contrast to the small child lugging around a heavy trolly. The contents of her large luggage rattled along the bumpy uneven path between platforms 9 and 10.
A large cage sat upon her trunk, sheathed away from the fleeing lights wedging themselves between thick cumulus. Beneath the thin layer of nearly translucent fabric and the twist of the ornate metal cage rested Emmeline Walker's most dearest friend and companion; Neptune, her great horned owl.
His feathers, much like the very mythological being he was named after, were a glossy mix of black and cerulean, wrapping his proud skin. Between a sharp beak sat two piercing eyes the color of a fresh-cut stone of gorgeous amber. Neptune was love itself to Emmeline Walker, who had practically birthed him from the manifestations of her own magic ability. Her father had been reluctant to have such a dangerous animal in the house, but eventually gave in to the trickle of his daughter's crocodile tears.
"Sorry, Tuney. The road's a tad bumpy." The girl coaxed sweetly, gently patting the cloth over her owl's cage.
King's Cross was rather crowded the morning of September first, bustling passersby walking in close proximity, holding between their skin the bones of their worn bodies and praying to make it to the end of the day despite its early beginning. It was a dreary place that sapped Emmeline of her childish joy and left it to rot on the cold floors, until she picked it back up again and stuffed it through her cavity-filled cheeks.
There was never any color in the Muggle world. They were dull creatures, whose sedentary lives were dictated by a meager set of laws they were forced to conform to. Never any flexibility, just the dull cut and dry life a child only saw as uneventful and redundant. Emmeline much preferred the colors that stemmed from the tips of wands, the creatures that lurked in every nook and cranny, the secrets she could unlock if she only just opened her eyes.
Brown and grey hues passed by her in blurs of briefcases and purses, and Emmeline squinted through the normalcy of the Muggle world to search for the bit of abnormality that came with the title of 'wizard'. No red hair, or the telltale splash of freckled skin against broad grins.
Emmeline turned to the brick wall between the two platforms. With her eyes trained on the unsuspecting passerby, the young girl took the chance to break into a run before their prying eyes latched onto her strange figure, a child amidst adults, wearing the brightness of a girl not yet corrupted by their grey fingers and ideologies. Her trolly didn't make contact with the thick skin of the wall, and she phased right through. Exhilaration pulled at her youthful cheeks, until her breath was stolen by the passing wind and she had to stop her trolley in order to get a good, deep breath in through her lungs.
