Petunia And Lily Evans

Part 4 - Cross at King's Cross

"Can't I just wait in the car?"

"No."

Grumbling, Petunia slid out onto the hard black asphalt of the car park and slammed the green door of the Ford. Lily stood in front of her, holding a cage with a brown tabby cat inside that was meowing nervously. She twirled her long red hair on one finger, gazing up in awe at King's Cross Station. Their mother emerged from the shotgun seat, carrying Lily's suitcase of Hogwarts items. (Their parents had taken Lily shopping in some wizardy street called Diagon Alley the day before. Petunia much preferred reading and watching television on her own and raiding the fridge to buying broomsticks and toad's eyes with her stupid sister, so she had stayed home).

"Come on, girls!" Marlene called, stepping onto the pale sidewalk. Lily hurried up to meet her mother, with Petunia trudging in her wake.

At least when Lily is gone, I'll have Mum and Dad to myself. They've doted on her so much since she got her stupid letter in January. That's seven whole months of suffering on my part.

Petunia wanted to keep grumbling, but it was difficult once they entered the gigantic building of King's Cross Station.

The exterior was brown brick, but the interior was an expanse of gleaming white metal and glass and tiles, crammed with busy people in summery clothes carrying bags and briefcases. Some carried children or pets and some pushed prams. There was a neverending, incredibly loud, echoing din inside the enormous station. Trains rattled past or stood still on the grimy gray tracks as passengers got on and off, and people poured in and out of the small shops and cafes.

"Well, let's go get a trolley," Roger said after a few moments of silence, and the family retrieved a glistening silver trolley from a line shoved up against the wall.

The suitcase and plastic cage were loaded onto it. The young cat was mewing even more now. Petunia glimpsed it looking around with panic in its yellow eyes.

Lily leaned down to face the brown-furred, half-grown kitten, pushing hair out of her freckled face.

"You'll be all right, Merlin," she whispered to him, poking a finger through the cage door. (She had, Petunia recalled with a scoff, named the cat after a wizard who was apparently the most famous one of all time. She had learned all about him in a book she'd bought from Diagon Alley, called A History of Magic).

"So," Mr. Evans said suddenly, making Lily jump up. He glanced at the huge clock on the wall. "It's about ten minutes to eleven." He stared absently across the busy platform, the wind from passing trains ruffling his russet moustache.

"But Daddy," Lily said quietly, following his gaze, "My invitation said the Hogwarts Express was at platform nine and three quarters. There is no platform nine and three quarters. Just nine and ten." She pointed to the signs.

"Ah, yes," Roger said, without a trace of anxiety in his tone. "Didn't I tell you? The Hogwarts platform isn't a normal one. We can't have ordinary Muggles seeing it, can we?"

Lily blinked, her emerald eyes fixed on her father. "I suppose not. So how -"

"The brick divider."

Petunia joined her sister in staring at him this time.

"You're supposed to run through the brick divider wall between platforms nine and ten. There's some enchantment on it; anyone can pass right through to the other side, where platform nine and three quarters is. I've never been there myself, but my mother told me."

Lily was frozen on the concrete, her little face creased in fear. "W-what?"

"We'll be okay," the man assured her. For some reason, in that moment it occurred to Petunia just how shockingly alike her father and sister looked: the same vivid red hair, small, freckled, pale faces and bright green eyes.