HIS CHOSEN GIRL [MAJOR EDITING/REWRITING]

first year ➤hogwarts express

HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter four-hogwarts express
[Your P.O.V]
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Hagrid next brought Harry and I to King's Cross Station. There wasn't much special about it, just your regular train station, at least I assume. Hagrid then tells us not to lose our tickets, and to board the train quickly, it's due to leave in ten minutes. Before we can say or ask anything, Hagrid was already gone.

"Wha- how could he possibly have left so quickly?" I ask turning in a full circle searching the crowd for the inhumanly large man.

I turn to Harry who looks down at his ticket, a look of confusion washed onto his face.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"This can't be right..." He mutters slowly.

"What?" I repeat feeling concern fill over me.

Harry sighs. "It says platform 9 3/4. There's no such thing, is there?"

"I-I don't know. I've never been to a train station."

Harry flashes me a sympathetic look, he clearly must've heard part of my backstory earlier whilst I was explaining it to Hagrid.

I sigh and lean against a nearby wall. "Ugh. This was all just a joke? I don't know about you, but I can't go back to living the way I was."

Harry doesn't hesitate to throw his arm around my shoulder. "Hey, c'mon. It'll be okay. We'll be fine."

We ultimately decide on just looking around for the platform considering neither of us are comfortably familiar with the station. Once we get in between play form 9 and 10, Harry walks up to a plump man with a uniform on and we assume he works there.

"Excuse me," Harry says too quietly for the man to hear. "Excuse me!" he repeats louder this time. "Excuse me sir, can you tell me where I might find platform 9 3/4?"

"9 3/4?" He asks confused. "Think you're being funny, do ya?" He gives the two of us a disgusted look and walks away grumbling and rolling his eyes. "9 3/4."

Harry looks at me and shrugs helplessly and I sigh.

"It's the same every year, packed with muggles!" Exclaims a frustrated women loudly causing us to turn towards her.

"Muggles?" Harry asks softly obviously thinking on where he had heard the word from before. The two of us push our carts towards the sound of the lady's voice.

"Alright, Percy. You first," she motions for one of her six red headed children and an older boy steps up and begins running.

I watch him confusedly not knowing why he's running. He runs up towards the solid brick wall and I flinch waiting for a large crash and a broken red headed boy. But when I open my eyes again and await to see the crash, I feel shocked to see no crash at all, in fact, I don't even see the boy.