Part 9: Platform 9 3/4

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During the month after my trip to Diagon Alley I poured over the books I had bought. The books were fairly simple to understand but the knowledge they held was wildly different from anything I'd ever read before. As the month came to a close I had mastered every spell in the books I had bought.

On the 31st of the month I had fully packed my trunk, ready to go to Hogwarts. I put down my book and grabbed my trunk, grabbing the train ticket out of my pocket.
My parents and I had agreed it would be best to take a taxi to the station where I would get on the train.
My family waved me goodbye from the house, even Sherlock had begrudgingly came.
I pulled my trunk into the back of the taxi before handing the driver a £20 note for Kings Cross Station.

I sat in the back seat, amusingly giddy, swinging my legs backwards and forwards, a sign of nervousness and excitement, I thought to myself.
I twisted the 13'' wand in the pocket of my thick, black hoodie, staring out the window at the familiar scenery.
The journey came to a holt after what felt like an eternity, though I knew it to only be 8 1/2 minutes.
I thanked the driver graciously as he helped me with my things. I dragged it along the line looking for the platform on my ticket.

The ticket said platform 9 3/4 on which had me rather confused when I received it. Remus had rather kindly explained would involve running through a brick wall.
The platform was rather crowed today, however the area between 9 and 10 was evidently the most packed. Several families were saying goodbye to their children all around a brick wall.

I stepped towards it before breaking into a slight run. I closed my eyes tightly, slightly turning my head away from it, bracing myself for impact.
As I seemed to faze through the wall I stood in the middle of a platform was a large red, 4-6-0 steam engine. The model hadn't been widely used since 1951 as it had become outdated and replaced. The model clearly now ran on magic opposed to coal. As I admired the train I climbed on, finding myself a carriage.

Many of the compartments were full however the one at the back right was empty. I sat in the corner, facing the window. I pulled out the thick hardback from the top of my bag, carefully tracing my fingers across the aged pages before pulling the book open.
As I began to immerse myself into the book the door to the carriage flew open. Laughter filled the air as two red heads stood in the doorway.
They ignored my hard stare, warning them to leave me alone with my book if they wanted to live (you know the feeling) and sat down.
They smiled kindly before holding out their hands,

'Fred'
'And George'
'It's a pleasure to meet you.'

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