1st September

Story

Phoenix – June 1931 – 15 (going on 16, 5th year)
Linnet – January 1933 – 13 (going on 14, 3rd year)
Leo – March 1935 – 11 (going on 12, 1st year)
Wren – May 1941 - 5

Kowalski Children:

Toby – October 1929 – 16 (nearly 17, 6th year)
Daisy – April 1931 – 15 (going on 16, 5th year)
Ruth – November 1933 – 12 (nearly 13, 2nd year)
Abel – November 1933 – 12 (nearly 13, 2nd year)
Eli – January 1939 – 7 (going on 8)
Lucy - September 1941 – 4 (1 week away from 5)
Penny – January 1943 – 3 and a half

Set 1st September 1946.

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It was a crisp Autumn day as the family headed to Kings Cross Station that morning, desperately trying not to get separated as the crowd began to thicken. Two older children pushed trollies with trunks in front of them, already moving further ahead in their excitement; behind, a younger and smaller boy with glasses pushed his own trolley, assisted by his father, as the youngest child – a small girl with a bow in her hair – clutched to their mother's hand tightly.

"It's so busy," Wren said quietly, pressing her lips together.

Tina seemed to hesitate only slightly, though she didn't stop walking; it seemed rather silly now, she thought, to bring a Legilimens as young as their daughter to a busy train station, and she couldn't help but wonder if it would have been better for one of them to stay at home with her instead.

Wren frowned, giving her mother's hand a tug forward. "I'm fine. I wanna see Phee and Lin and Leo go, Mummy!"

So stubborn, Tina thought fondly to herself; Linnet was stubborn too, so it was likely that Wren had picked it up from her older sister, given how much time they spent together.

They found their way to the barrier between platforms nine and ten, somehow managing to not become separated by the other civilians rushing about the station. In the time they waited for their parents and younger siblings to catch up, Phoenix and Linnet had managed to start a disagreement as to who was going first through the barrier.

"I'm a girl," Linnet stated primly. "Ladies go first."

"I'm the oldest," Phoenix reminded her tersely. "I go first."

"Not again," Newt groaned, though there was obvious affection behind it. "Alright, no need to fight in the middle of the station, you two: it doesn't matter who goes first, but if we don't hurry then we'll miss the train altogether."

For a moment his two eldest children locked eyes, silently trying to force the other to back down – and then, finally, Linnet sighed. "Fine. Phoenix can go first – but only because if it's blocked then he'll smack the wall and not me."

Phoenix sent her a dirty but triumphant look as he marched towards the barrier with his belongings; Leo watched in fascination as his brother disappeared easily, mouth agape in awe. Linnet followed shortly after, head held high and without a moment's hesitation.

"Alright, now you, Leo," Newt urged gently, putting his hands on his son's shoulders. "Nervous?"

Leo swallowed. "No. Yes. Maybe."

His father chuckled, shaking his head to himself. "I thought so. It is always slightly nerve-wracking the first time, I must say. You'll be fine, Leo, I promise."