(Various!Harry Potter x F!Reader) (REWRITTING IN PROGRESS)
↳❝𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬.❞
It all began with an acceptance letter that you discovered the world of wizardry and witc...
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WE'LL SEE YOU AT HOGWARTS!
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It didn't take long for September 1st to roll around, then finding yourself at King's Cross Station. Beside you was your beloved grandmother, smiling with glee and excitement. She gazed at you with her weary but proud eyes. There was almost a flash of worry in them, but it was washed away by the sheen of tears ready to spill down her cheeks.
Schrödinger was free from sitting in a bag— instead, he opted to sit on top of your baggage on the trolley you were moving around.
"Gosh, it's been a very long time since I stepped foot in this station. I'm gonna miss you so much, dear."
You playfully rolled your eyes, a smile curving up on your lips. "Don't worry, Grandma. I will make sure our mail slot is always full of my letters!" you quipped.
She gently smacked you in the back, earning a laugh from you. "You brat, don't do that! I don't want our neighbors questioning why there's always an army of owls delivering letters." She sighed, then pulled up her sleeves to check the time. "We need to go to 9 ¾. The train departs at eleven sharp. Now, chop, chop! Follow me, dear."
You nodded, trailing behind her. The way grandma carried herself— shoulders straight and back and head held up, gives off the presence of power. She was someone you ought to be in the future; confident and strong. You hope you naturally be like those once your year starts in Hogwarts.
You pushed using your right leg to gain momentum, then placed both your feet onto the metallic poles of the trolley. As you expected, it didn't get too far, but you were getting tired from pushing the thing. You hopped down and then tried again. The wheels (which probably have a bunch of dirt and hairs stuck into them) dragged across the ground with a screech. It was the same irritating sound as the carts in the supermarkets.
Grandmother stopped in her tracks, which you also did. She looked at you and pointed over at a brick wall. There was a plastic number nine over one platform, then a number ten over the one next to it, in the middle, nothing at all. You eyed your grandmother, question marks appearing on your head.
"Between those two is the platform we're looking for," she explained.
You blinked as if you understood what she was talking about. "...But it's just a wall."
"No."
You could only look up as your gaze flickered from the wall and back to her. There was a family of redheads standing by the wall. You even noticed a pair of twins. You witnessed the mother gesture towards the wall to one of her sons, to which the latter nodded and ran straight into the wall, vanishing as he made contact.
