Meeting Friends
Maia could hardly contain her excitement during the next couple of weeks. She read through the newspaper, which was called The Daily Prophet, and the magazines The Quibbler, Witch Weekly and Which Broomstick so many times she knew them off by heart, and marvelled at the moving pictures as well as the crazy stories inside. She read the book about the wars and soon knew everything about Harry Potter, and the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. It was all so fascinating.
But her mother was less happy. Maisi tried to hide it, but it was easy to tell how worried and anxious she was about sending her only daughter away to a strange place with strange people where she would learn strange magic.
However, nothing could ruin Maia’s happiness about going to her new school. It would be exciting, and she would learn interesting things, and most of all, be able to start with a clean slate. No one would know her and everything would change.
On the evening of the 31st of August, all her equipment and books and clothing had been packed into a large trunk that stood open on the floor in her room. Everything was going in there except her wand, which she would carry in her pocket with her at all times. She imagined that to be a wise course of action. Her mother had also allowed her to bring one of the cats. In the end she had decided on Oedipus, because he was younger, better around people, and black. Black cats were supposed to be the trendiest pets for witches, according to Witch Weekly.
“Well, that’s that, then,” said her mother, looking down at the trunk. “So you’re really leaving me, are you? What will I do without you…” She hugged Maia close. “Bed now,” she said, holding her at arm’s length. “You have a big day tomorrow.”
King’s Cross Station was packed the next morning; they arrived an hour early, for fear of being late, and ended up arriving during rush hour. The cat in the cage had been meowing loudly all the way there. Maia had her ticket with her. Platform Nine and three-quarters, she read for what might have been the hundredth time. She could clearly see platforms Nine and Ten, but no Nine and three-quarters. Nothing, just a barrier between the two platforms. Maia looked at her mother.
“It’s not here,” she whimpered, disappointment visible in her eyes. Maisi just shook her head, wondering if maybe it had just been an elaborate joke after all. But she had seen all those things happen. It could not just be a hoax.
She asked a random passer by if they knew where the platform was, but they merely looked at her as though she was mad. She asked a guard with the same result, and he told her to keep the cat quiet as it was causing a disturbance. Maisi gave an exasperated sigh. There was bound to be some kind of magic involved in this too, she thought.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone in a large, pointy hat. But when she turned around, the person, whoever it was, had disappeared. Maia pulled her trunk and the kitty-cage over to the barrier between the platforms and sat down, leaning against it.
And then, suddenly, without warning, she disappeared. Maisi let out a cry of surprise, causing a few people to stop and stare. She went over to the barrier, where the trunk and cage still stood. Lifting her hand she pushed at the wall, but nothing happened. But then a head stuck out, startling her again. It was Maia’s head, and she crawled back out over the trunk and stood up.
“Mum, it’s here!” she said. “Look, come on!” She took her mother’s hand and pulled the trunk with the other, and with her daughter leading her, Maisi passed through the barrier, carrying the cage with the screaming cat.
They found themselves on another platform. Looking behind her, Maisi saw a wrought-iron archway with the number Nine and Three-Quarters on it, and standing there on the tracks was a scarlet steam engine, puffing purple smoke. It looked magnificent.
There were rather few people on the platform, as the train was not leaving for another half hour, but a few seconds later, someone came through behind them. They excused themselves as they jostled past, two children fighting over who got to go on the train first.
“Mum, help me find a seat!” said Maia, already dragging her trunk after her on her way towards one of the doors. Maisi followed and helped her carry the trunk on board. They found a compartment which they put the trunk and the cage in, and then they went back outside.
“Now, you behave yourself, love,” said Maisi. “Take care and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Alright,” said Maia.
“I’ll miss you.” Her mother hugged her tightly. “Have fun. Remember to write!” she said, letting go, and Maia got on the train again.
Once back in her compartment, she looked out of the window at her mother. Another mother who also appeared to be a “ what had they all called it “ Muggle was talking to her, as her son got on the train. Maia sat down, shushed the cat, and pulled a comic book out of her trunk.
As Maia considered whether she should get out her Discman as well, the compartment door slid open, and she looked up. A tall girl with dark blonde hair and ice blue eyes looked inside at her.
“Excuse me,” she said, “may I sit here?”
“Sure,” replied Maia. The girl pulled her trunk into the compartment and closed the door.
“I’m Wiktoria Westhatch,” said the girl. “What’s your name?”
“Maia Herod,” said Maia. The girl had an air of superiority and pompousness about her, but only to a certain extent. She sat down opposite of Maia and looked intensely at her.
“Your first year?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Maia. “You?”
“First-year, yes,” replied Wiktoria. “It would have been quicker to travel to Hogwarts from home, though.”
“Really?” said Maia, vaguely interested. “Where do you live, then?”
“Up north, near the border of Scotland,” Wiktoria answered, swinging her legs. “Hogwarts is supposed to be in Scotland. That’s what my brother said, anyway.”
“You have a brother who’s a wizard?” asked Maia, feeling vaguely envious. Wiktoria would know a lot more than her, then.
“Yes, but he’s already graduated. Where are you from?”
“Oh, I live in London,” said Maia. “But I’m a whatchacall… Muggle-born or whatever.”
“I see,” said Wiktoria. “The train is leaving soon,” she added, looking out onto the now emptying platform. There were owls hooting, cats meowing and parents sobbing, as they helped their children onto the train. As if in response, Oedipus meowed from his cage. “Oh, what a pretty cat!” said Wiktoria, only then noticing him. “Why don’t you let him out?”
“Maybe I should wait until the train leaves so he doesn’t run off and get lost at King’s Cross Station,” Maia answered, right as the compartment door slid open once more; another girl stood there.
“Any room in here?” she asked, as a whistle was blown outside, and all the doors outside closed. “I was a bit delayed, all the other compartments are full.”
“Go ahead,” said Maia, and Wiktoria nodded.
The train left the platform and the girl sat down. She had dark brown, wavy hair tied back into a ponytail, and dark blue eyes. “So who are you two?” she said, apparently not bothering to introduce herself first.
“Wiktoria Westhatch,” said Wiktoria. “And that’s Maia… Herod, was it?”
“Yes,” said Maia. “Who are you?” she asked the new girl.
“Oh, sorry, I’m Kristiana Black,” the girl replied.
“Really?” said Wiktoria, suddenly intrigued. “No relation to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, is there?”
“As a matter of fact there is,” said Kristiana. “My grandfather was Alphard Black, but he was disowned because he gave gold to his nephew who ran away,” she explained. “I don’t think the rest of the family even knew he had a son. What’s that you’re reading?” she added to Maia, pointing at the comic book.
“Just a comic book,” said Maia. “It’s called Books of Magic.”
“Can I see?” asked Kristiana. Maia handed her the book. “But the pictures don’t move!” she said after flipping through it.
“Well no,” said Maia. “It’s a, what’s the word… Muggle comic.”
“Oh,” said Kristiana, giving back the comic book. “You’re a Muggle-born, then…”
“Yeah,” said Maia. “Is that a problem?”
Kristiana appeared to consider it for a bit. Then she shrugged. “Not to me, it isn’t,” she said. “But some people care a lot. I just never knew any Muggle-borns. My father is a Squib, though, so of course I don’t mind. He works in the wizarding world. Carves handles for broomsticks. He has a shop with an associate named Sander in Knockturn Alley, called Sander and Black.”
“What’s a Squib?” asked Maia.
“The opposite of a Muggle-born,” said Wiktoria quickly, seemingly happy about sharing her knowledge. “It’s a person born in a wizard family who has no magic powers at all.”
“Yes, and that’s the reason it’s probably a good thing the rest of our family never knew about my father,” Kristiana continued.
“Why?” Maia inquired.
“Well, for the same reason that they wouldn’t have liked you,” said Wiktoria. “The old, pureblood wizarding families aren’t very fond of Squibs or Muggle-borns. They call Muggle-borns Mudbloods because they’re ‘filthy’. Purebloods who associate with Muggles are blood-traitors, and Squibs are rotten apples.”
“Exactly,” said Kristiana. “A lot of Purebloods are horribly prejudiced. But most people don’t care too much anymore, of course. Especially not since the war is over.”
“Yes, I read about that!” exclaimed Maia. “I bought this book about it. So the Death Eaters were mostly people from pureblood families or what?”
“That’s right,” replied Kristiana. “My father’s cousins Bellatrix and Regulus were both Death Eaters, and another of his cousins, Narcissa, was married to one; Lucius Malfoy.”
They fell silent for a while. Maia pondered upon what she had just learned. One of those names in particular rang a bell, and that was Bellatrix. She had apparently been one of the worst. Maia shuddered.
“Hey, the train’s moving now,” said Wiktoria. “Why don’t you let out the cat?”
Not long after that, a lady with a trolley full of sweets came and knocked on the compartment door. Maia used some of the sickles in her money pouch to buy a pack of something called Chocolate Frogs, and some Pumpkin Pasties. They tasted wonderful, and the chocolate frogs had little cards inside with famous witches and wizards on them. Maia’s first card was Merlin, and Wiktoria told her it was a rather unusual card. She had bought Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans herself, and was cautiously nibbling them. Kristiana was sucking on a liquorice wand, engrossed in Maia’s comic book.
“It’s nothing like reality, of course,” she had said. “Everyone knows dimensions don’t work like that. But the kid has an owl, at least, and he looks a lot like Harry Potter.”
Wiktoria had then proceeded to tell Maia that her brother had been at school with Harry Potter, and knew Neville Longbottom personally.
When it began to darken outside the windows, the three girls changed into their uniforms, and Maia struggled to get Oedipus back in his cage. Shortly after that, the train pulled up to the station and stopped. Their things would be taken inside for them, so they stepped off the train together, unsure of where to go next. But soon they heard a booming voice go:
“Firs’-years! Firs’-years over here!” They looked around and saw a gigantic hulk of a man standing a little way off. “This way!” he shouted, and they hurried off towards him. Maia felt a bit afraid, because he was truly gigantic, but as they approached, he smiled good-naturedly. “Are yeh the lot?” he boomed, looking around at the group that had huddled next to him. “No one else? Alrigh’, then, follow me!”
They scurried after him, because the evening was chilly, and were surprised when he took them down to the edge of a lake with lots of little boats. Across the lake they could see a big castle on top of a cliff, with lit windows.
“Four to a boat!” said the huge man. Maia, Kristiana and Wiktoria shared a boat with an olive-skinned, dark-haired little boy, and the boats set off of their own accord across the lake, towards Hogwarts Castle.