꧁ʙᴏʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴜʀᴘʟᴇ꧂

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

꧁✧✧✧꧂

𝕿he radiant sunshine was smiling down on that of Muggle London, kissing the skin of those briskly rushing in and out of King's Cross Station.

September the First arriving means the end of Summertime, the end of free-roaming flower filled meadows to the heart's content, witnessing God's poetry coming to light in sunset blossoms of reds, orange, pinks and purples. Purple. Especially hues of purple. The end of Summer, the start of a new school year. For the teenagers of Wizarding Britain and neighbouring places, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Platform Nine and Three Quarters is the liveliest it's ever been, but all freezes into slow motion when a certain group pass through.

Leading the way, newly-exalted Head Boy, James Potter, hazel eyes open and analysing. To the left, notorious heartthrob, Sirius Black, pushing a hand through his raven locks, smirking at the swooning girls nearby. Rolling their eyes, to the right, the Casanova of the Gryffindor Tower, Remus Lupin, failing hard at shooting death glares to said girls. Behind, Peter Pettigrew, focusing on keeping his eyes trained upstairs.

Because, most importantly, right in the middle of the Marauders, Romie Lupin, thoroughly enjoying her very own security detail.

She surveys the platform over James' shoulders, between the families bidding goodbye, over the heads of the timid first years, searching for freedom. Much to her pleasure, there's light to the end of the tunnel as she catches a glimpse of dark curls ahead,

"Hestia!"

Smiling big and wide, her friend comes dashing forwards, arms extended to welcome a hug. It doesn't work, however, with an athletic-built James Potter wall between them. He clears his throat, bending down and bundling her up in his arms,

"Jones! What a lovely greeting, i'm touched"

"Oh — well you're very welcome, Potter" Hestia replies once her surprise fades, patting his back once or twice. When James Potter hugs you, it's the law to hug back.

Less than impressed, Romie huffs, shooting her older brother a wry look. Begrudgingly, Remus reaches out, fisting the back of James' jacket to pull him away, allowing Romie to greet her friend properly.

Hestia Jones is the epitome of wonderful. A Hufflepuff genuine and true, always in touch with her emotions. If Romie ever wanted to have a late night deep talk about life with someone, Hestia's the girl. And she even crochets majority of their wardrobes.

"Good gracious, what is in these Lupin genes?" She marvels, stepping back to soak up the sight of Romie.

For a long while, Romie had believed her blooming was over, remaining at her mum's height of 5'4 and a subject to her 6'3 brother's teasing forever. As it turns out, there was other plans set in place for her, finally shooting up and growing into her spindly limbs for what seemed overnight. Thankfully, Remus is rather gifted in charms and once buttered up with three year's worth supply of chocolate, altered her clothes to fit suitably.