Fandom Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry // RP

[pastelfox]

Hey friends! Summer break is over! It’s time for your year at Hogwarts! On a rainy and gloomy day, professors and students alike have gathered on the train platform in preparation for getting out of the rain and to board the Hogwarts Express for the 8 hour journey to Hogsmeade where everyone will then gather at Hogwarts. First years are still getting the hang of things while others meet up with friends to catch up. It’s time to board the train.

Let the year begin!

 

[Gordon_Greenwood]

Professor Lake entered platform nine-and-three-quarters with nothing in-hand. That wasn’t because he’d come unprepared, mind. Most of his belongings were sent to his private quarters weeks ago, and those few things he needed on-hand until his arrival had been conveniently shrunken down and stashed into his jean pockets.

Despite being in his mid-thirties, Adrian’s personal sense of style, rule-bending attitude, and rugged good-looks, kept him in the early-twenties range when others guessed. He often pretended to be offended when people told him so, but honestly, he lived for it. How he’d become Gryffindor Head of House was utterly beyond his imagining. He’d even waltzed into Zankoku’s office and asked if the Hogwart’s elves had delivered his appointment letter to the wrong person.

Apparently, no mistake had been made.

A gust of steam rushed out from the settling Hogwarts Express, drawing the professor’s dark blue eyes toward the scarlet-painted machine. A new year was beginning, and with it, a new batch of students. Professor Lake pushed his red-bronze hair out of his face and scanned the growing crowd around him for signs of familiarity.

Quite a few of his fellow professors preferred to aparate straight to Hogsmeade and walk to the gates, but Adrian had always taken the train. The professor’s compartments were quite cozy, rambunctious, and had a full lunch-trolley service that wandered by. All part of the experience.

The redheaded professor silently begged Merlin that he wouldn’t be sitting with the Ancient Runes professor again. Last year he had to go the entire journey listening to them prattle on about the peculiar differences between Nordic and Egyptian rune work. Truthfully, Adrian thought the only peculiarity about those runes was how someone else could find them so interesting to begin with.

 

[herwritings]

scroll

professor of
xylomancy

Ros
Floquet

mood

sentimental
&& idyllic

outfit

described throughout text.

location

the hogwarts express,
a compartment.

interactions

none (currently).

tags

n/a.

Summer holidays never felt nearly as long as they should be. however, returning to academia was not ever as dreadful as it had been remembered to be -- at least, that was what professor rosamund floquet had liked to reassure herself. the woman was now vastly beyond the age of her student years yet the eagerness to learn had never once left her.

reddish worn boots creased at the toe as her movements came to a sudden halt. students -- ones she could easily presume as first-years, considering their attire to be similar to hers, lacking uniform, dashing along. the widening darks of rosamund's eyes followed the excitement of the few racing down the platform, determining that to be which of her entrance onto the train.

"pardon."

her voice soft, but firm enough to be heard as she footed herself onto the railed vehicle. the thickness of her native accent coating her words like molasses, while she simply repeated the statement -- to what had felt like dozens of times, navigating down the slimmed corridor. students from varying houses jumping from a single compartment to the next, loud laughter erupting in one while another managed a shriek. this was surely a part of the experience. though, she had hoped many of the students would keep a like-minded attitude when it came to her course -- xylomancy.

it wasn't offered often considering a lack of interest in the subject -- but rosamund was determined to change that. or perhaps she was just too within herself to be given the opportunity to lecture on something of her favorite nature.

furthering herself toward the back of the train, an empty compartment had revealed itself for reserve -- and the woman wasted not a second to step within. the space was much larger than rosamund had expected, though she mostly had it to compare to the carriages in which she'd take as beauxbatons student -- but again, she was also the only occupant of the compartment, so it was bound to feel more spacious. leaning forward, the brunette lowered her trunk at her feet before returning upright. a hand reaching within the back pocket of her lengthy jean skirt to retrieve a small, compact journal.

with the writing booklet pinched between two hands, intricately shaped gold rings pressing against the leather cover, rosamund thoughtlessly fell backward into the seat nearest to the window. a breath of relief surfacing amongst her embrace to the velvet cushioning -- she was ready for the day to be over and yet, it was only just beginning.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[mementowhori]

maverick hale.

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  hogwarts train
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
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  COIIAPS3 roguedaisy
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

"this is a dialogue."

A shrill beeping sound rudely interrupted Maverick's dream of smacking a bludger face first into the smug seeker from Hufflepuff. "Fuck you Kelly Mallis," he grumbled, still half asleep. He tiredly rubbed his face before languidly stretching, firm muscles rippling as his back gave a satisfying pop. Maverick reached for his still ringing phone and answered without checking caller ID, only two people ever used it anyway. He barely got out a short "Ya Mom?" before the sound of rapid chattering filled the space. He yanked his phone anyway, quietly groaning. Despite living alone, it seemed he still couldn't escape a mother's nagging. After a few minutes of her talking a few key words filtered through his morning grog. "Wait Ma, did you say train?????? What train??" His mother paused for a minute, "Darling, the hogwarts train? Doesn't your new term start this week and the train was today?"

Maverick stared blankly at his ceiling for a minute, still stretched out in bed. "OH FUCK." He hung up the phone and rolled out of bed cursing the entire time. "Oh shit oh fuckity fuck. Oh christ on a fucking cracker!" He mentally did the math, looking at his calendar on the wall with two weeks still left before the big circle in red with 'train to hog' written under it. Pausing, he did it again. "OH, FUCKING ARTHMANCY AND IT'S COUNTING BULLSHIT!!!!" No time to waste he stumbled around his room, haphazardly grabbing clothes and everything he'd need. Thankfully storage is important in a studio apartment, so all his school supplies were neatly gathered in a bin under his bed. The seventh year student grabbed his go to buckle jacket nad cargo pants, tossing everything on as quickly as possible. He bolted out his apartment, leaping the stair railing and sprinting to his motorcycle. He's a runner, he's a track star.

The train station was nearly empty when he got there which is never a good sign. Checking both ways for no mags, he murmured a quick spell his friend classmate had taught him for this very reason. His bike shrunk to the size of a tiny toy, and he chucked it into his pocket before taking off through the station. He full body slammed several unfortunate people, three of them clad in different color robes and scarves. Unlike the majority of his fellow students, he was still in common clothes. A blare of the train horn torn him from his thoughts and he skipped up the train steps. Fucking close one. Annoyed and dripping with sweat, he stomped through the train, a scowl etched on his face.

Biting one of his lip piercings, the 6'5 man shoved open a cabin door, spotting a scared group of firsties clustered together. "Have you seen a bitchy looking gryf girl-," before he could finish, the door was pulled shut. Used to this by now, he shrugged and moved on. He kept pulling open doors, searching for the one person he wouldn't necessarily mind sitting with for the longest train ride of his life.

The next door he pulled open held the last person he wanted to see right now. His scowl deepened, his eyebrows drawing together. "Maldick. Just seeing your face is giving me hives. You eager to lose quidditch cup again this year??" Purposefully twisting Mallis' name always gave him a small flash of joy. If there was one person, he couldn't stand while also regretfully respect it would be Kelly Mallis. After the smaller boy's response, Mav twisted around and slammed the door.

Moving on in his search. Finally, he located Olivia Forsberg, another seventh year gryf. "Ice bitch I've been looking for you everywhere. You'll never fucking believe how math nearly bent me over and fucked me today." Groaning, He flopped down next to her and thrusted his head into her lap, covering his eyes with his arm. Much like an overgrown black cat, he wiggled till he was comfortable, stretching his long limbs out.

champion

fall out boy

♡coded by uxie♡

vissarion volkov.

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  arthur morgan. herwritings Gordon_Greenwood
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

"this is a dialogue."

Vissarion Volkov, former dueling legend and current Hogwarts Charms professor, let out a soft coo, petting the ruffled feathers of his Northern Goshawk. Artem always did get rather worked up on the walk to the train—he wasn’t a fan of the crowd or the noise. Vissarion felt much the same. He gracefully strode through the station, a simple notice-me-not charm preventing himself and his strange (for a non magical person) outfit, which looked like something out of a dark fairytale, from standing out. Dressed head to toe in black, he wore a long coat draped over a tight, chain-laced vest, his gloves and belts gleaming with intricate silver details. He moved like a shadow, elegant and untouchable.

Not slowing his movement, the Russian man smoothly passed through the barrier of the platform, cape flaring behind him. Vissarion spotted several of his former students, most doing their best to avoid his gaze or even flee entirely. Between his intimidating aura and his strict attitude in the classroom, he was not a favorite. His stickler for politeness didn’t help endear most to him either.

Keene eyes locked onto two of his fellow professors flitting through the crowd. The first was one he wouldn’t mind having the occasional conversation with, a little odd but at least she had manners. Ros Floquet, professor of Xylomancy, a fellow transplant like himself. The second was one he absolutely minded having a conversation with. Unprofessional in conduct and appearance, one of those professors who liked to be “friends” with the students. In Vissarion’s opinion those kinds of professors shouldn’t teach. Professor Lake, professor of transfiguration and of raggedy clothes apparently. Vissarion deigned to give them both a small nod, polite as always even to those he had low opinion of. To Professor Floquet he murmured a low greeting as he passed. “Madam Floquet, a pleasure as always. Have a comfortable train ride.” To the other man all he gave was a “Professor Lake.” to accompany his nod.

Now bordering the train, Vissarion shifted Artem from his gloved forearm to his shoulder. The charms Professor made his way to the back of the train, occasionally stopping for brief conversations with new and older students alike. He reached a large room in the back and let a small smile flit into his face. “Professor Bellamy, how I’ve missed your sullen face.” Bellamy Swan, herbology professor and Vissarion’s current fixation. Such an interesting man with a hidden history and depths that he felt compelled to slowly unearth and savor.

blood in the wine

aurora

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[pastelfox]

this code scrolls!!!!!!!

cats are better
need I say more?

OTTO FISCHER

MOOD

hello Cersei! I will now ramble to you!

OUTFIT

sweater + maxi skirt and sneakers

LOCATION

Platform

INTERACTIONS

Cersei

TAGS

dowagers

Woooo, new year! It’s September 1st. The first day back is really here! Time for another year at Hogwarts!

Otto had gotten little sleep the night before. Like, two hours worth of sleep. Yikes. Otter’s thriving on very little sleep and lots of coffee right now. Like, lots and lots of coffee. Ah well, the train ride is usually nine hours long so otter’s got plenty of time to take a nap on the train. Otto is giddy with excitement, and he would definitely be bouncing off the walls right now. He couldn’t wait to climb aboard the train and find a compartment for the 8-hour long journey to Hogwarts. He’ll definitely be indulging in sweets the whole time. Otto is going to make the most of his last year. Yep!

Otto was radiating with excitement as Otto got ready for the day, putting his hair up into a short ponytail and sticking his wand through the ponytail holder. Having your wand in your ponytail is super fashionable. And no Otto won’t be taking any criticism about it. Otto is very fashionable! Otto, being the disorganized and messy person that he is, stuffed his things into his luggage case before closing it. He’s got everything. He sure does.

Otto was dressed in a cozy rabbit printed sweater with a white maxi skirt and platform sneakers. As well as cat earrings because cat earrings are a staple of his fashion.

Now, it was off to Kings Cross Station!

Otto and Birdie’s dad didn’t bother coming along. He never does. It was just the twins and mama at the station. Then again, the Fischer household always had an air of tension especially on the first day back to Hogwarts.

Even though Otto’s in his seventh and final year of Hogwarts, he still gets extremely homesick. Yeah, he has the Yule Ball, the sweets, his bestie Cersei, and so much more to look forward to at Hogwarts but Otto would always get homesick on occasion. Even though he knew his mom would write to him whenever she could. But still, Otto tends to get homesick. Otto’s first year on the platform had been full of him sobbing as he got on the train and not wanting to go.

“Alright Otto, do you have everything in your luggage case?” Mama asked a rather hyper and bouncy Otto. “Yes, mama! I do! I’ve got everything I need for my last year at Hogwarts! My books, plenty of clothes, study guides, you name it!” Otto replied excitedly. Otto could not contain how excited he is right now; he gets to see Cersei again! And his friends! And there’s all the sweets to buy from Honeyduke’s! Honeyduke’s is Otto’s favorite shop! That and Brews and Stews. Otto has a major sweet tooth. And Otto runs on caffeine and sugar.

In one hand, he’s holding Cookie and Mallomar’s pet carriers with the cats currently sleeping inside. The other was holding onto his luggage. Otter is currently preparing to run through the brick wall. It would be otters final time doing so, it would be Otto's last time boarding the train to head to Hogwarts. With a deep breath, Otto ran through the brick wall, and it didn’t take long for Mama and Birdie to join otter.

Like she always did ever since Otto was a little sobbing first year, Mama was going on the platform with Otto to see him off. But Otto’s not crying this year! Nope! Well… he hopes not. Is he tearing up right now?

Otto wipes at otters eyes, not wanting to cry on this special day. Otto’s brave and strong. Otter’ll be just fine. Otto blinked away any tears that might be lingering in otters eyes. Otter is brave and strong. “Alright Otto and Birdie, you two have an amazing final year at Hogwarts. I’ll miss you both lots, but I’ll write to both of you! And I’ll see you for the holidays.” Mama began to say her goodbyes to Otto. Otto gave otters mother a smile, he can look forward to it.

“Goodbye mama. I’ll miss you.” Otto had to set his stuff down to give Mama a big goodbye hug. The pine marten animagus let go so that Mama could leave. Now it was just Birdie and Otto on the platform.

Otto and Birdie had split up by now. Birdie was most likely going to meet up with her friends and Otto was left amongst the crowd to look for Cersei. Though it shouldn’t even be that hard to find her. She was tall and stood out with the clothes that she wore. Otto wanted to sit with Cersei because if otter were to be stuck in a compartment with a complete stranger… Otto wouldn’t be able to take it! He would melt from his crippling anxiety! So he’d prefer to be with someone that he knows well!

Otto made otters way through the crowd, being on the look out for Cersei so he could eagerly bounce his way over and start the usual rambling that would come from him. It didn’t take long for the pine marten animagus to locate Cersei and a beaming grin crossed his lips. Eagerly, he pushed his way through the crowd, weaving his way through to get to his fellow Slytherin. “Cersei!” Otto called out, sounding so chipper and happy. “It’s so good to see you again! How was your summer?” Welp… there otter goes again. “We can sit in a compartment together! I don’t think I’d want to be in a compartment with a total stranger! That’s scary!” More rambling from otter. He was bouncing on his sneakers a little bit, “Do you think you could help me with my luggage too?”

code by ditto (head empty go bonk)​

 

[COIIAPS3]

Olivia had stood aside on her lonesome, watching younger and more eager students board the train first. She wore a rather delicate loose white blouse, pressed and dried in the sun just the day prior, tucked neatly into the black pleated skirt that grazed the skin above her knee. It was half the uniform, the rest of it secured and strapped in her luggage for the start-of-term feast. Though if the weather was going to take a turn for the worst, she might -

She was jostled from her thoughts as a young girl ran by, knocking into her arm. Her father, hobbling behind her, flashed an embarrassed, doting, smile her way, muttering something that could’ve passed for an apology, before chasing after his spirited spawn. Her lips tugged upwards as she recalled the parting words her own father had left for her.

”I wasn’t aware you were crippled and in need of a hand to get onto the train,” he stated curtly, effectively ending the discussion or any possibility for negotiations as his quill dotted crossing every ‘t’ on his parchment. But for all of his foul mood and sour comments, she had found a very nice bottle of her favourite spirits tucked in her shoulder bag when she left home. My deepest appreciations, you loathsome man.

. . . herwritings

As the initial rush of the most eager students slowed, Olivia stepped onto the train, with her spotted sweetheart, her bengal cat Zoya, darting between her boots up the steps.

When she thought she found an empty compartment, with a rare spot of sunshine filtering out onto the wooden boards, she startled as she held onto the frame of the door, seeing an older woman nested on the seats. Not a student, this one was far too … settled, mature. Olivia should have been wary, seeing a professor of unknown name and origin, but this one was so soft and unassuming, it utterly disarmed her. It left heat trickling in her chest, but - surely, that was just the sun.

Olivia blinked, realizing she had been staring, and with a quiet apology for her intrusion, she leisurely strode off without a lick of shame for her odd behaviour - she didn't even realize the smile tugging at her lips.

. . . mementowhori

Olivia had just settled into the compartment, letting Zoya survey her temporary territory when another full grown cat made its unwelcome appearance onto her lap. She gave Maverick a glare and frown, full of her utter contempt and disdain, reserved especially for him. Not because of the moniker he had coined for her, but for the sheer audacity. And he full well knew it. He was harmless. Just vexing. And Olivia was above retaliating for something so inconsequential - when it was him.

"...Yes. Good morning to you too - EW. Get - OFF - " She gasped, hissing, as she came to realize something damp was trickling on her skin. She lifted her one leg up and crossing it over the other, damning Maverick and his skull to whatever doomed fate he earned. She had half the mind to swing down an open palm on him - but that would mean touching his perspiration. She gave a exasperated growl, half a sigh really, as she pressed herself up against the window - to avoid any further contact.

"I’m inclined to believe something else bent you over. Were you also mugged on the way here." She squinted, the tip of her thigh high boots prodding at the odd muggle clothing. "Get up. There's a whole other seat you can lay claim to, you blunderbuss," Olivia groaned, letting the tip of her boots poke at his shoulder, as if it would convince him to make her life easier for the next 8 hours - but it seemed she was all but stuck when another stepped through into the compartment.

OLIVIA F. HOGWART'S TRAIN

BY: COIIAPS3

 

[Soul_]

Slytherin Student.

Blaine Morgan.

song name

location

answer here

outfit

interactions

Finn Morgan

tags

none

"this is a dialogue."

Early in the morning, Blaine had woke up before the sun rose pacing around his room checking everything that he had already packed at least four times before looking at the calendar to check the date. It was in fact the date so at least he got that right unlike for the last week. The week that Blaine ended up being glared at by his very tried father at five in the morning." Oh shit!" Blaine would freeze realizing how loud he was. But still carried everything to the door. Then going to the kitchen and finding his father sitting there just waiting on Blaine with narrowed eyes. "Merlin" blaine mumbled after jumbling back slightly.

" could you be any louder? Wait don't Answer that Blaine." Professor Finn sighed. One good thing is that the two wasn't going to be late.



Of course they waited few hours before going to the platform. Even then by the time the train arrived Blaine had been on the platform for a while, more or less pacing in a small circle. People were already packed on the platform walking into the train. Everyone seemed to be talking over each other just to be heard. The first years, Blaine would swear, were the loudest, and you could tell where groups of them were from the chatter. Blaine would of most like kept walking in a circle untill he burned it into the wood, but, Professor Finn, his father reached out and grabbed his shoulder. Scaring him half to death until he saw it was just him. "Tch" He grumbled crossing his arms standing beside his father who still didn't let go.



Finally, after what felt like eternity, Blaine would start worming his way through, trying not to bump into many people. He was mumbling apologies under his breath: Sorry, pardon' me. He bumped into at least three trunks, a woman’s hat, and possibly a cat in a carrier that hissed at him as he passed. His ferret, Scout, perched comfortably on his left shoulder, chirred softly in amusement at the chaos. The little creature had better nerves than Blaine did.



Eventually, he spotted an empty-ish cabin—two people already inside, chatting quietly but not paying much attention to him. Perfect. Blaine ducked in quickly and slid into the seat by the window, letting out a sigh of relief as he did. He took one of the seats at the window, putting his suff out of everyone's way the best he could. Scout crawled to his lap to curl up to sleep, while Blaine hoped that this ride would already be over even before it started.

DefenseAgainsttheDark Arts professor

Finn Morgan.

song name

location

platform 9¾

outfit

He wears a long, tattered overcoat of deep charcoal wool, frayed at the edges.The collar stands high, half-turned. His shirt is black, slightly wrinkled, sleeves often rolled up just below the elbows, revealing old wand burns and faint scars he never talks about. Dark trousers tuck into well-worn leather boots scuffedand a simple silver ring on his right hand, once his wife’s. His only other accessory: a weathered satchel slung across his back

interactions

Blaine Morgan

tags

none

"this is a dialogue."

Professor Finn was already awake due to having a three' o'clock alarm for the last week, called Blaine. And oh, did Finn had loathed it with the fire of a thousand suns. Every morning, without fail, the boy was up before the sun, shuffling around like a restless ghost, rattling drawers, stomping on floorboards, and generally making himself impossible to ignore. Why did he wake up so damn early? What teenage boy voluntarily rose before the birds? Finn muttered a string of curses under his breath as he dragged himself out of bed. After grumbling to himself, he would get ready for the day and have some black coffee. Being half awake, He didn’t even bother turning on the light—what was the point? He’d memorized every inch of his flat by now. Half-blind and scowling, he fumbled for his mug and poured himself a mercifully hot cup of black coffee.

He sat alone in the dark kitchen, nursing the bitter drink like it might somehow resurrect his soul. So he just drank in the dark waiting for Blaine. As the noise started to die down, Professor Finn put down his coffee cup and stared at the doorway, waiting. Sure enough, Blaine showed, and when he turned on the light, the boy slightly jumped back before giving him the most awful look and mumbling something. "Could you be any louder? Wait, don't answer that, Blaine." Professor Finn sighed, shaking his head in defeat.


Then came the hours of waiting before they ever left the house. Not that bad after he woke up and the two strolled to the platform. Finn was helping Blaine carry his stuff to the train, seeing how he had shipped most of his things to Hogwarts. Hopefully they would be there when he got there. Too late to worry about that now. Fin would lead them to an area away from most of the crowd as best he could. Not that Blaine was paying much mind.



Then it started, Blaine going around and around him. How was he a Slytherin again? Merlin. Finn put a hand on his hip, glaring in front of them. As Blaine kept walking, Finn rubbed his face.He rubbed his face with one hand, willing himself to remain calm. It was like watching someone slowly wear a hole in the earth beneath them. A few more laps and the kid would be halfway to China.

“Blaine,” he hissed.

No response.

“Boy.” Sharper now.

Still nothing. With a growl, Finn’s hand shot out and clamped down on the boy’s shoulder, stopping him mid-step. For a blessed moment, everything was still. Finn exhaled again, resisting the urge to bash his own skull into a wall. It was far too early for this.

Then the two would start to board, and Finn helped put Blaine's stuff away. Glaring at anyone in front of his face, then walking through and sitting in a cabin with a huff. Finn finally closed his eyes, happy to be sitting..

Gryffindor Prefect.

Nathaniel O'Neal.

song name

location

answer here

outfit

described in text.

interactions

none

tags

none

"this is a dialogue."

The house was loud. Nate was running about like a chicken with its head cut off to grab all of these things that were scattered across the house. His mother would watch, completely confused about what that boy was doing. Grabbing a brown cargo jacket to put on as they walked and got everything together, he looked over. "Well, are ya' comin'? " He asked, looking to his mother as he was quickly putting on the jacket that seemed to be fighting him every chance it got.

"I-I can't, sorry, I'm busy," she mumbled, not looking at him. "You're old enough to go alone, Nathaniel."

"It's Nate, and you said you'd go this year," was all the argument he put up, knowing it was useless.

"I'll call you by your name, and I'll go next year, Nathaniel," she smiled, waving him off. Nate just walked out, rolling his eyes. Yeah, right, next year will never come. Nate just kept walking with everything in tow to the station.

One thing he forgot every single year was just how much of a pain it was to get everything to the platform without face-planting into a wall—or worse, into a first-year. It was always a miracle he made it through the barrier with all his limbs and dignity intact.

“Every year, I swear the station gets farther away,” he grumbled, not caring that no one was listening. By the time he reached the station entrance, he was sweating, out of breath, and very much not on time. He looked up at the big brass station clock and felt his stomach drop. The train’s leaving in minutes. Panic bloomed across his face.

“Shit, shit, shit—”

He took off at a run, weaving through the crowd with reckless determination, bumping shoulders, tripping over a suitcase, and catching a glare from a man with a very expensive-looking owl cage. Nate just mumbled an apology and didn’t slow down.

Heart hammering, he reached the wall, barreled through the barrier at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and burst into a world of steam, noise, and last-minute goodbyes. The train’s whistle shrieked, a loud warning. Still wheezing, he hauled himself up the train steps, the metal vibrating under his feet as it prepared to pull away. . With everything in hand, he ran up the stairs and looked into all the cabins for a free seat. When he bumped into people, he would nod and look away. Then finally finding a seat and just taking it, wishing that he had gotten here earlier to an empty cabin. Oh well, always next year..

Hufflepuff Student.

Abigail William.

song name

location

answer here

outfit

interactions

none

tags

none

"this is a dialogue."

"Mammy, come on. We have to go. I don't want to be late," Abigail would call out to both her mother and father, who had been worried sick about this day. Her father looked up from the table and at what was in her hands and at the paper in his hands, a list that he checked off to make sure she had everything: wand, books, paper, all the normal things.

“Wand? Check. Books? Check. Quills, ink, parchment…” His brow furrowed slightly in concentration. “Do you have your cauldron packed properly, sweetheart?”

"Yes!" Abigail would nod her head as she bounced.

"Yes, dear. I know, but we have got to make sure you have everything." Her mother would say as she started double-checking everything that they had to put up. Her bright red hair was somehow a mess already, even though she had just brushed her hair. So on the way, Abigail would be forced to brush her hair again, and her dad pushed the cart of her supplies. Once she was at the wall, she stared as a few people ran through the wall. Running into the wall, her eyes closed tight with her parents right behind her.

Her eyes wide as she stared at the train with the dark grey smoke coming from the smokestack, her brown eyes practically sparkling, "Look, it's the train! It's so pretty." Her dad would nod his head, smiling.

"Now, Abby, you know what to do, yeah?" Her dad questioned softly, and of course she nodded her little head yes. Even so, her dad still would tell her what he had to do, well, from what they were told anyway, seeing how this was the first time she was going anywhere without them. "Well, you'll be responsible for all of this, so please don't lose it. And in the cabin, try to not talk too loudly; it's a small space."

"I know! I know! I promise I'll be good!" She would chirp with a smile. Her mother would smile and nod, "Now go to the train."

With one last hug and a wave, Abigail turned toward the train. She heaved her trunk up the steps with effort, her small frame straining under the weight, and slipped inside. The corridor buzzed with noise — laughter, excited voices, owls hooting from their cages. She turned back once, peeking through a smudged window to see her parents still waving.

And then she was gone — swallowed into the crowd, her heart pounding with the thrill of something brand new.

Finding a seat proved harder than she thought. Most cabins were already full, older students deep in conversation, their laughter loud and familiar. She passed one, then another, until finally, she spotted a cabin with one empty seat. Quietly, nervously, she slid the door open. She walked in hoping no one would mind really.