Starman

19th of December 1971

Amalia was trying to help Marlene pack her trunk, a task that had quickly descended into chaos. She stood by, arms folded, watching as Marlene chucked her belongings into the trunk with little care, only to spend the next ten minutes wrestling with the lid in vain. It was obvious Marlene was close to admitting defeat, so Amalia decided to step in, feeling a bit sorry for her friend.

“I wish I knew a spell to make it pack itself,” Marlene groaned, tossing a crumpled jumper towards Amalia, who caught it easily and began folding it properly. “This is absolute torture.”

Amalia couldn’t help but laugh. “We’ve been at it for all of five minutes,” she pointed out, a smirk on her face. It wasn’t the first time she’d witnessed Marlene’s unique approach to packing, which seemed more about chucking and shoving than any real attempt at organisation.

Lily, who had long since finished packing her own trunk, sat cross-legged on her bed with a textbook balanced on her lap, already working diligently on her Christmas holiday homework. “I did offer you that book on household charms,” she said, her eyes still fixed on her notes, though her voice carried a touch of amusement.

“Yes, and I told you I’m not doing extra schoolwork,” Marlene shot back, her voice stubborn as she tried to jam another jumper into the overflowing trunk.

Lily rolled her eyes, the gesture so dramatic that it drew a giggle from Mary, who was packing her own things with far more method than Marlene but less speed than Lily.

“What’s everyone most looking forward to?” Mary asked after a while, breaking the silence as the others continued their packing. The Christmas holidays had been on all their minds for the past few weeks.

“Not having to wake up early for school,” Marlene replied instantly, her voice full of longing, causing everyone to chuckle. For her, the thought of lie-ins and endless hours in front of the telly was heaven.

“I’m looking forward to seeing my family,” Lily said, her tone softening as she placed her quill down and looked up. There was a flicker of worry in her green eyes. “Petunia hasn’t replied to any of my letters. It’s starting to bother me.” Her voice grew quieter, and the mood in the room shifted slightly. Everyone knew Lily’s relationship with her sister was complicated, and the lack of response clearly weighed on her.

Sensing her friend’s concern, Amalia gave Lily a warm smile, one she hoped would convey the reassurance she couldn’t quite put into words. Lily returned the smile, though the sadness in her eyes remained.

“And you, Amalia?” Mary asked, eager to steer the conversation back to something lighter.

“Seeing my family, I suppose,” Amalia said, shrugging slightly before a mischievous grin spread across her face. “But mostly, I’m looking forward to Mrs Potter’s cooking.” Her eyes lit up at the thought, and she let out a dramatic sigh. “I can practically taste those roast potatoes already.”

Marlene laughed. “I’ll bet. Me? I’m just excited to see my dog. I’ve missed him like mad, and Mum wouldn’t let me bring him to school.”

Amalia smiled as Marlene’s face softened at the thought of her dog. It was clear how much she’d missed him during the term.

“Done!” Marlene exclaimed triumphantly after what felt like an age, throwing a final pair of mismatched socks into the trunk and slamming the lid shut with a flourish. “And not a moment too soon!”

•••

The girls found themselves in the midst of the usual bustle at King’s Cross Station, their trunks piled high on trolleys, the scent of steam and the noise of chattering students filling the air. It was a bittersweet moment — leaving school and each other behind, even if it was just for a few weeks. Parents hurried about, fussing over their children, and the occasional owl hooted from its cage, adding to the chaos.

They huddled together for their goodbyes, the reality of parting beginning to settle in. “Don’t forget to write,” Lily said, her voice laced with excitement but tinged with a hint of sadness as she pulled Amalia into a hug.

“I won’t,” Amalia promised, hugging her tightly in return. The thought of exchanging letters during the holidays made the looming separation feel a little less daunting.

“We all will,” Mary added, beaming as she released Marlene from a hug of her own.

Just then, Amalia’s mum appeared, weaving her way through the crowd to reach them. “Ready to go, love? Brandimia’s already on her way to the car.” she said with that warm, familiar smile, clearly eager to have her oldest children home for the holidays.

“Almost,” Amalia said, her heart tugging as she turned back to her friends. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye. Pulling all three of them into one last, tight hug, she squeezed them hard, as if to hold onto the closeness they’d shared. “I’ll see you in January,” she said, trying to sound bright and optimistic.

“Definitely,” Marlene grinned, giving a thumbs-up, while Lily and Mary nodded, their faces reflecting the same mix of excitement for the holidays and the melancholy of saying goodbye.

As she let go, Amalia saw the same reluctance on their faces. Even though they’d only be apart for a short while, the thought of not seeing them every day felt strange. Over the months, they’d become a constant in her life, and now the idea of not having them around left an odd emptiness.

With a final wave, Amalia took her mum’s hand, feeling the familiar warmth as they began to walk away. Amalia couldn’t help looking back one last time. Her friends were already being swept up by the crowd, their voices and laughter fading into the background.

January felt like a lifetime away.