In a world ravaged by good and evil, those toeing the line find solace in nothing. Blood runs thicker than water, but is risking your life and livelihood for a war you never wanted a part in worth it? Is becoming a monster in the eyes of some, and a...
Kings Cross station was a marvel. Maeve gawked at Les plébéiens as they scurried by, not quite dissimilar to those in France, but there were enough subtle differences that it was all oddly off-kilter. The shouts in a language not foreign, but one often kept between her and her father. The clothes were more sensible and subdued than in Paris.
Yes, London was strange.
"Maeve!" The young witch whirled around, her dark plait swinging back to sting her cheek as she searched for her father's disembodied voice. His large hand landed on her shoulder, jarring her from her wandering thoughts and growing discomfort with the unfamiliar surroundings.
Her hand was in his, and he was tugging her towards a wall of stone. She snapped her head back and forth, taking in one last look at the strange people before they slid through the wall, and she was staring up at a great big train.
The crowds were different from what they had been outside, more familiar in the way all witches and wizards looked similar around the world with their wands and cloaks. The smell of coal-smoke and clamour of voices were assaulting her senses as her father tugged her into an alcove where they could stop a moment without standing in the way of other families.
The face of Ragnor Selwyn could barely be described as anything other than granite, hard and cold as stone, but he was sporting a rare smile.
"Mon cœur," he swept his daughter into a brief hug, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head, "you will love Hogwarts as I did, I know it."
Maeve managed to wrestle a weak smile to her lips, "I miss home, papa."
Ragnor tutted softly and gave her cheek a gentle pinch with gloved fingers, "you are going to learn so much, make so many friends. Now, go on, mon cœur."
Maeve reluctantly took hold of her large trunk and began dragging it behind her, sparing her father one final glance over her shoulder. He was already walking towards the barrier.
The train gave a warning whistle, and Maeve found herself swept up in a stream of students in a mix of Hogwarts robes and the clothes worn by Les plébéiens.
It was a struggle to find a train compartment not filled with students. When she finally managed to find one, there were two people inside; one girl and one boy. The girl was thin and short with straight blonde hair and blue eyes that twinkled with mischief. The boy had short, scruffy brown hair, narrowed dark eyes, and a pinched mouth that said something of his feelings about the blonde.
Maeve steeled her nerves and slid open the door to the compartment, "may I join you?"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
