Prima Donna | Sirius Black Fanfiction

Toujours magnifique

"Allegra mon chou." Yves Saint Laurent, otherwise known as my uncle fussed over my sister's head scarf outside platform 9 and 10. It was her first year and despite her repeated attempts to convince them that she's too old for all this 'lovey-dovey stuff', they still managed to fuss over her... she was their baby girl after all. Pierre stood beside him propping up my trunk. He was a short, round bald man with a smile so wide, that it extended from each rim of his large round glasses. The hustle and bustle of King's Cross station diverted frustratedly around Yves who stepped back to continue to examine the two of us as we stood in front of him like two of his mannequins.

"Toujours magnifique." He smiled resting his head on Pierre who was wiping tears with his silk handkerchief. I tried not to laugh at the sight; Two extravagantly dress men standing between platform 9 and 10 of King's Cross Station weeping at their nieces, both holding large trunks, a cat and an owl. My uncles were like family and when my mother was busy (which was always) they became our surrogate parents.

"Nous vous aimons (We love you)" they exclaimed, dissolving Allegra and I in kisses. My hands gripped Yves leather jacket and rested my head against his wiry chest. We struggled under their tight grip with fear that we were going to miss the train at the realisation that neither had any intention of letting go.

"O.K." Yves recovered himself his pale hair so blonde it was almost white swept back from the wind. He was a tall thin French-man, his skin pink from working outside on the patio under the Toulousian sun on his fashion collections. We couldn't look more unlike. I thought as I looked down at my long brown hair, green eyes and olive skin. I was so much shorter than him that I was only eye level with his shoulder. Allegra beside me with her pale blonde hair (she was almost a spitting image of our mother) examined her nails lazily, not looking in the slightest bit concerned.

Yves sighed "Nous ne pouvons pas vous accompagner jusqu'à la plate-forme, nous devons donc trouver quelqu'un pour porter vos bagages." (We can't go with you to the platform so we need to find somebody to carry your bags.)" He peered over the heads of the crowd of bustling men and women all wearing the same black suit and white shirt. Every now and then a uniformly-dressed man or woman would stop to stare - whether they were staring shocked that France's star fashion prodigy was shedding a tear at King's Cross Station or the two primly dressed girls in haute couture cradling owls, I'd rather not know. Yes was oblivious to the crowds he was forming, instead he took off his woven broad brimmed hat to wave at somebody he had spotted in the commotion.

Allegra looked positively mortified at the embarrassing man hopping through the crowd trying to spot a witch or wizard amongst the stream of muggles. I rolled my eyes stepping forward. The reality is that if one fashion-forward youth catches the eye of my uncle and it's game over... I could feel the threat of paparazzi swarming platform 9 looming iminently. "It's 1976, I'm sure Allegra and I can carry our own bags. Second-wave feminism, remember?"

Yves waved me off, still waving ferociously into the abyss. Passers-by were beginning to look at us concerned, choosing to walk around the grubby vending machine than risk being acosted by the beautiful couple and their two little girls (who were incidentally carrying owls). "Juste parce que tu peux, ne veut pas dire que tu dois (Just because you can, doesn't mean you have to)."

"Excuse-moi." He said spotting a tall sandy haired boy similarly holding an owl. Allegra cursed hiding her face in embarrassment. I laughed, I had learnt from numerous past experiences that it was better to embrace our uncle's extravagances. Remus Lupin appeared from the crowd. A fellow gryffindor, Remus and I had been in the same grade for the past five years. Although he was one quarter of a group of rucous gryffindor boys, Remus had a good head on his shoulders and had faced enough adversity from his recurrent illnesses that I knew he wouldn't judge a couple of rogue uncles. Remus looked up from beside his equally dishevelled mother and father confused before spotting me his smile grew wide.