The Keeper Of Keys
Vernon had dragged us all out of the coast of the Midlands he had said to this literal secluded hut on a rock. We had to get on a boat to get to it and if we wanted to leave, that was the only way back. It was a dreary place, and a storm raged outside, you could hear the waves crashing against the rock, the wind smashing against the hut and the crack of the lightning in the sky whilst it also lit up the room in bursts. Vernon and Petunia were asleep upstairs in the only bed, whilst Dudley got the sofa. I got the stone ground and a blanket next to the fire and I could barely sleep a wink, especially not next to Dudley’s snoring. But I had told myself I was going to wait up one particular night, right up until midnight. On the soot covered stone in front of the fire, I wrote with my finger Happy Birthday Y/N and circled it, adding candles to the top as if I had a cake all of my own. I waited a couple minutes until Dudley’s watch beeped midnight.
“Make a wish, Y/N.” I say quietly to myself, celebrating my eleventh birthday, knowing it would be the only celebration I’d get. I blew on the soot covered stone, blowing out my pretend candles and so casted my birthday wish. I wished for the same thing I had every year, to be taken away somewhere great by someone nice, away from the Dursleys, somewhere I could be happy. No matter how many times it didn’t happen, I still wished for it every year.
BANG! Suddenly an almighty force bangs on the door, shaking the lower part of the hut, making me jump and waking Dudley up. As it continues banging on the door, rattling the place, Dudley leaps from the sofa, backing up to the back of the hut, whilst I hide behind the small bit of wall that the fireplace emerges from. Vernon and Petunia come down the stairs, Vernon holding a shot gun.
“Who’s there?!” He shouts, aiming the gun at the door as Petunia turns a light on and the bangs continue until finally the door breaks and falls forward with a stupendous thump. I peek around the corner of the wall and see the fallen door revealing a large figure behind it. Petunia and Dudley both scream at the sight of it as it begins to step into the hut. As this big, dark figure steps further in, stepping over the door, it comes into the light and I realise the large figure is in fact a man.
“Sorry about that.” The abnormally large man apologises, before turning and lifting the door back up into place.
“I demand that you leave at once, Sir! You are breaking and entering!” Vernon orders.
The large man steps over to the pair of them standing on the stairs, matching their heights without even needing the stairs. “Dry up, Dursley, you great prune.” The man insults before grabbing the end of the shotgun and bending it upwards with one hand and with ease. The gun goes off, no doubt in Vernon’s panic, and only succeeds in shooting the ceiling. The man turns and walks over towards Dudley, stopping before the fireplace.
“Mind, I haven’t seen you since you were a baby, Y/N, but I know that you sure weren’t a boy when I did.” Hagrid jokes to himself.
“I’m—I’m not Y/N.” Dudley stutters in fear.
“Well, of course not, like I said, you’re a boy. Now, where’s Y/N? –Who’s a girl.” Hagrid clarifies, finishing off with a tut. “Not so smart this one.” He mutters to himself, which amuses me entirely and pushes me to reveal myself.
“I’m here.” I announce, standing before the towering man, a little scared myself still.
“Oh, well will you look at you. There’s Y/N.” The man smiles. “Here, look—got something for ya. Afraid I might have sat on it at somepoint, but I imagine it’ll taste fine just the same.” He states as he fishes for something from the inside of his jacket, ultimately pulling out a white box that looks to have seen better days with a ribbon tied around it and handing it over to me. “Baked it myself, words and all.” He adds. I untie the ribbon and open the box to find a pink iced cake with the words Happee Birthdae Y/N in green icing. I wasn’t sure who this man was, where he came from, why he was here or why he couldn’t spell happy birthday, but at that precise moment I didn’t care. This was the nicest thing anyone had ever gotten me, misspelling and all.
“Thank you.” I say sincerely and very happily.
“It’s not everyday that your young woman turns eleven now, is it, ey?” The man endears and I nod in response, still a little in shock and still utterly confused. He looks towards the fireplace and steps to take a seat on the sofa, which he fills completely to himself by only sitting on the whole thing. He takes his umbrella in his hand and strangely points it at the fireplace, when suddenly two balls of fire shoot from the end and immediately start the fire. My mouth drops. How did he do it? I was in awe. I put my cake box down on the arm of the sofa, never taking my eyes off the fire and then stand myself firmly next to the man, turning to look right at him.
“Excuse me, who are you?” I ask.
“Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.” He introduces. “Of course, you know all about Hogwarts.” He adds.
“Sorry, no.” I answer. All I knew of that name was that it was written on the back of all those letters.
“No? –Blimey, Y/N, didn’t you ever wonder where your mum and dad learned it all?” Hagrid reasons.
I furrow my brows at him in confusion. “Learnt what?” I wonder.
Hagrid leans forward a little. “You’re a witch, Y/N.” He announces.
My eyes widen. “I’m—I’m a what?” I stutter in disbelief. I wasn’t entirely sure what he was going on about, witches weren’t real.
“A witch. –And a thumping gooden’, I’d wager, once you’re trained up a little.” Hagrid states.
“No, you’ve made a mistake. I mean—I can’t be—a—a witch. I mean, I’m just Y/N. –Just Y/N.” I dismiss in disbelief. Witches were things of scary stories, or something you’d dress up as for Halloween, they couldn’t be real, but Hagrid’s smile didn’t appear as if he was joking, more that he was finding me endearing.
“Well, ‘just Y/N’, did you ever make anything happen? Anything you couldn’t explain, when you were angry or scared?” Hagrid asks and my mind immediately goes to the thought of the snake at the zoo. Clearly, my realisation showed on my face as Hagrid smiled once again as he raised his eyebrows and nodded. Hagrid stood from the soda and faced me as he dug within his coat again, pulling out a letter this time, handing over the exact letter of which had filled the house back in Little Whinging. The name Hogwarts was on the back, like the rest. Finally opening the letter, it read:
Dear Miss Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Students shall be required to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival, the dates for which shall be duly advised.
Please ensure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith.
We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation of Hogwarts’ heritage.
Yours sincerely,
M. McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Reading it aloud I wasn’t able to finish before Vernon cut in. “She will not be going, I tell you. We swore when we took him in we’d put a stop to all this rubbish.” He rejects as he marches over to me.
“You knew? –You knew all along and you never told me?” I scorn, looking from Vernon to Petunia.
“Of course we knew. How could you not be?” Petunia affirms as she comes to stand beside Vernon. “My perfect sister being who she was. My mother and father were so proud the day she got her letter. ‘We have a witch in the family, isn’t it wonderful?’. I was the only one to see her for what she was. A freak! –Then she met that Potter, and then she had you, and I knew you would be the same. Just as strange, just as abnormal. And then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up! And we got landed with you.” Petunia spits.
“Blown up? You told me my parents died in a car crash.” I spit back.
“A car crash? A car crash killed Lily and James Potter?” Hagrid shouts.
“We had to say something.” Petunia defends.
“It’s an outrage! It’s a scandal!” Hagrid continues.
“She’ll not be going.” Vernon affirms sternly.
“Oh, and I suppose a great muggle like yourself going to stop her, are ya?” Hagrid toys.
“Muggle?” I question, turning to him.
“Non-magic folk.” Hagrid clarifies for me. “This girl’s had her name down ever since she were born. She’s going to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world and he’ll be under the finest headmaster that Hogwarts has ever seen, Albus Dumbledore.” Hagrid asserts over the Dursley’s while I notice Dudley had somehow gotten at my cake, taking it to the corner and was now stuffing his face with it.
“I will not pay to have some crackpot old fool teach her magic tricks.” Vernon rejects.
“Never insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me.” Hagrid coolly threatens, pointing his umbrella at the two, before he suddenly zaps towards Dudley and a pig tail quickly grows from his buttocks. Dudley begins to panic, while Petunia screams and Vernon quickly joins her. They both run around after him while I laugh and smile at the display, seeing Hagrid smirk a little at his play.
“Oh, um, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone at Hogwarts about that. Strictly speaking, I’m not allowed to do magic.” Hagrid asks.
“Okay.” I confirm. I wasn’t going to tell a soul; I knew that for sure. This man was the greatest thing that had happened to me, I wasn’t about to do anything that may get him into trouble.
He pulls out a watch and looks at the time. “Ooh, we’re a bit behind schedule. Best be off.” Hagrid announces and turns, heading for the door. He pulls it out and it slams against the ground again. “Unless you’d rather stay, of course.” He adds looking back at me in the spot I hadn’t moved from. I shake my head vigorously. Hagrid begins to leave with a beckoning gesture and with one glance at the Dursley’s, I put a spring in my step to follow after Hagrid.
I had wondered momentarily how exactly Hagrid had got onto the small rocky island, as no boats would have sailed over in this weather, but that was answered as soon as he sat on his motorcycle. I was still puzzled at how he did it, but as soon as he beckoned me once again and I hopped into the side car, everything was truly answered when the vehicle began to rise in the air and shot off flying into the stormy sky. It was magical. I had known this man but five minutes and it was the happiest I had ever been. My wish had finally come true, someone had come and taken me away from the Dursley’s. This was fast becoming the best birthday I had ever had.
“First year’s students will require three sets of plain work robes, one wand—,” I begin listing, though stopping at the mention of a wand and looking up at Hagrid as we walked a street in London. We had flown straight there and reached it by early morning.
“Essential bit of equipment, Y/N.” Hagrid nods.
“—one pair of dragon hide gloves—,” I continue, but again stop and look up to Hagrid. “Hagrid, do they mean from a real dragon?” I query.
“Well, they don’t mean a penguin, do they?” Hagrid replies, then begins to clearly think to himself. “Crikey, I’d love a dragon.” He speaks to himself.
“You’d like a dragon?” I repeat, thinking that didn’t sound the wisest.
“Vastly misunderstood beasts, Y/N. Vastly misunderstood.” Hagrid points out.
I nod before looking back to my list as we continue walking. “—one standard size 2 pewter cauldron, if they so desire, either an owl, a cat, or a toad—,” I continue to read aloud, and the list went on. I was beginning to wonder where on earth we would find all these things.
“Hagrid, can we find all this in London?” I question.
“If you know where to go.” Hagrid smiles before he directs me towards this small entrance to a place I couldn’t decipher of what it was. The outer door and building was all painted black and looked alost abandoned, but as Hagrid and I approached, the blackened sign started to appear, the name of the place was The Leaky Cauldron. Hagrid opened the door for me and as we both stepped in, closing the door behind us I realised it was a pub.
“Ah, Hagrid, usual I presume.” The barman calls from behind the bar as we begin to walk through the pub full of people.
“No, thanks, Tom. I’m on official Hogwarts business.” Hagrid politely rejects. “Just helping young Y/N here buy her school supplies.” He adds, patting me on the shoulder.
“Bless my soul. It’s Y/N Potter!” The barman, Tom, says rather loud. He knew who I was, he knew my last name which Hagrid hadn’t said. Everyone started to look towards us, specifically at me. I swore the music stopped as well. All eyes were on me, and I wasn’t entirely sure why.
“Welcome back, Miss Potter. Welcome back.” One man stands and grabs my hand to shake, which I politely smile and nod back in response.
“Doris Crockford, Miss Potter. I can’t believe I’m meeting you at last.” A woman greets, also shaking my hand.
“Y/N Potter. Can’t tell you how pleased I am to meet you.” Another man steps forward to greet, stuttering his words. This man looked a bit out of place. The rest looked as if they frequented the pub, belonged and fit in here, but this man didn’t. His clothes looked more proper and cleaner than the rest and he wore an interesting headdress, wrapped around his head.
“Hello, Professor. I didn’t see you there. –Y/N, this is Professor Quirrell. He will be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts.” Hagrid introduces, which explained why he didn’t fit in with the people here: he was a professor.
“Oh, nice to meet you.” I greet back, offering my hand to shake his but he merely looks at it in a glance before looking back at me, having not shook it.
“Fearfully fascinating subject. –Not that you need it, eh, Potter?” Professor Quirrell seemingly jokes as I retract my hand, not understanding but smiling all the same.
“Yes, well, must be going now. Lots to buy.” Hagrid sniggers a little awkwardly.
“Goodbye.” I say to the professor, hoping I had made a good first impression as we walked away and through the pub out to a tiny courtyard area, where a few beer barrels were kept.
“See, Y/N? You’re famous.” Hagrid says as we come into the brick walled courtyard.
“But why am I famous, Hagrid? All those people back there, how is it they know who I am?” I question.
“I’m not sure I’m exactly the right person to tell you that, Y/N.” Hagrid relays before tapping his umbrella on specifics points around a spot in the wall where a few bricks had worn out. Suddenly one after another, the bricks began to pull into the wall and move around. They spun around, interlocking as they moved like a live puzzle and separated in the middle, like a path was being made or cleared for. The bricks continued moving until they revealed a whole new street, forming a new archway, and my mouth was wide open in awe.
“Welcome, Y/N, to Diagon Alley.” Hagrid says as I take in the sight of this newly uncovered, vibrant, busy street, appearing as if out of nowhere. I wasn’t sure how it was possible, how any of this was possible. All I knew I was in complete awe and wonder over it all. There were men and women dressed in robes and hats I had thought only fit for Halloween. The stores and signs were like no other. It really was a whole other magical place; I didn’t feel like we were in London anymore.
“Here’s where you’ll get your quills and your ink.” Hagrid points as we walk the busy street, passing kids mostly of my age, but of various ages, carrying bags and heaps of supplies, as well as cages for animals. It was positively booming. “And over there, all your bits and bobs for doing your wizardry.” Hagrid continues as my eyes dart in every which direction, taking everything in at once as fast as I could. We pass some kind of shop that sold by the looks of things broomsticks, but I supposed that couldn’t have been the case. Hagrid’s umbrella was magic after all, why not a broomstick. I heard a few children glamouring over the main one displayed in the window, speaking about how fast it was or something, calling it the Nimbus 2000. I wasn’t entirely sure what it did, but I’m sure I would find out what they all did eventually.
“But Hagrid, how am I to pay for all this? I haven’t any money.” I ponder.
“Well, there’s your money, Y/N. Gringotts, the wizard bank. T’ain’t no safer place, not one. Except perhaps Hogwarts.” Hagrid points up ahead, to a tall white stoned building. Once inside, the place became rather grand. The floor was a kind of marble stone, there were crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and down the hall sat on opposite sides were rows of these small men. They were everywhere. Walking about conducting their business, as well as sat on these elevated wooden desks either side of us as we walked down the hall. They were some of the oddest things I’d seen yet, and they didn’t look particularly inviting or friendly, they looked rather old and bitter perhaps.
“Err, Hagrid, what exactly are these things?” I ask as we walked.
“They’re goblins, Y/N. Clever as they come goblins but not the most friendly of beasts. Best stay close.” Hagrid informs, just as we come up to the one desk at the end of the hall. This must have been the main desk, I presumed.
Hagrid cleared his throat before speaking, gaining the slow turn of attention from the goblin at the desk. “Miss Y/N Potter wishes to make a withdrawal.” Hagrid states.
The goblin leans over his desk and looks down at me looking up at him. They really did look old and bitter, they looked mean and vicious too. Perhaps they weren’t, but I wasn’t keen to find out either way by putting any foot wrong whilst I was here. “And does Miss Y/N Potter have her key?” the goblin questions.
“Oh, wait a minute. Got it here somewhere.” Hagrid answers as he begins checking inside his inner coat pockets. “Ha! There’s the little devil.” He says as he holds up the key, a small gold one, quite pretty. “Oh, and there’s something else as well. Professor Dumbledore gave me this.” Hagrid declares, taking a letter from within his coat and handing it over to the goblin. “It’s about you-know-what in vault you-know-which.” Hagrid quietly conveys between them, to which the goblin nods. “Very well.” He simply replies.
We were taken by another goblin down below the bank, into vast and deep caves by the looks of it, travelling around on a cart the goblin drove on these winding rails until we finally stopped. “Vault 687.” The goblin announces. He steps off the cart and onto the stone platform before the vault.
“Lamp, please.” He asks, looking to Hagrid. He walks over to the vault door with it.
“Key, please.” He now asks. Once the vault door opened, it creaked and slowly swung open and revealed a considerably large pile of what looked like gold coins, shining against the light of the lamp.
“Didn’t think your mum and dad would leave you with nothing, now did ya?” Hagrid comments.
After taking enough coins to cover the expenses of my school supplies, we ventured to another vault. “Vault 713.” The goblin announces, like before, as we arrived walking up to it.
“What’s in there, Hagrid?” I ponder.
“Can’t tell you, Y/N. Hogwarts business. Very secret.” Hagrid dismisses.
“Stand back.” The goblin says, before stroking the vault door with his finger in a particular way and the vault door opens after many unlocking sounds. All that lay inside the vault was a small object, wrapped in parchment and string. I couldn’t tell what it was at all, but it clearly had to be something of some importance to be locked up like this, and as Hagrid said, this was secret business.
“Best not to mention this to anyone, Y/N.” Hagrid conveys. I respectively nod back in assurance; it was none of my business anyway.
Back in the alley outside, I was finally able to buy all these supplies required and that I had been seeing in the shop windows. Hagrid came in all the shops with me and helped me find every item I needed. Now, I had everything I required. I looked down the list and saw I in fact, still needed one more thing.
“I still need a wand.” I inform as we exited a shop, coming back into the alley.
“A wand? Well, you’ll want Ollivanders. There ain’t no place better.” Hagrid points out. I look over to the shop in question: ‘Ollivanders – Makers of Fine Wands Since 386 B.C.’ “Why don’t you run along there and wait. I just got one more thing I gotta do. Won’t be long.” Hagrid encourages before leaving me outside the shop.
Entering, no one else was inside. It was dead quiet; I couldn’t even see any shopkeepers. The bell rang above the door as I opened and closed it, but still no one appeared. I noticed the stacked shelves lining up the walls were covered in dust and cobwebs. The whole place looked like an antique. I popped my things down in the window, securely on the ledge and walked towards the desk.
“Hello?” I all but whisper. Nothing.
“Hello?” I repeat, louder this time and then someone appeared, sliding across a wall on a ladder, appearing from around a corner, making me jump just a little. It was an old man, and his expression changed into a curious smile as he saw me stood at the desk.
“I wondered when I’d be seeing you, Miss Potter.” The man states before dismounting his ladder and walking over to one of the walls lined with small boxes. Of course, he knew my name, nearly everyone seemed to here. His hand and fingers trace around the wall as he looks for something. “It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands. –Ah.” He recalls, before finally landing on a decided box. Pulling it from the shelves, he brings it over to the desk, unboxing it and handing me the wand from within. “Here we are.”
I held the wand in my hand, and saw he looked as if he was waiting for me to say or do something, of which I did know what. “Well, give it a wave.” He pushes. I do exactly that and suddenly a whole row of boxes fly off the shelves, causing one hell of a ruckus. I place the wand onto the desk quite carefully after that.
“Apparently not.” The man, Ollivander I can only presume, comments before walking over to another stack of shelves. He repeats himself, hovering over numerous wands before landing on another. He unboxes the wand and hands it over again.
“Perhaps—this.”
With a wave, I now shatter a glass vase holding a few purple flowers, now residing on the floor. “No, no, definitely not. –No matter.” Ollivander rejects, and I place this wand on the desk, again carefully as if not to shatter anything else. He walks back into the depths of his shop, hoovering over the shelves and suddenly it looks as if he has a thought and pulls a box from the shelves soon after. “I wonder.” I hear him mumble as he holds the box in his hand. He turns, looking back my way and then rushes forward to the desk, again for the third time unboxing a wand. He walks around front with it, standing before me and hands the wand over. As soon as I held it in my grasp, I felt an almost rush, a warmth, a tingling sensation of belonging, as if I had just held something that I knew belonged entirely to me, something that was fit to only me.
“Curious. –Very curious.” Ollivander comments.
“Sorry, but what’s curious?” I ask as I hold the wand.
Ollivander takes back the wand from my hand. “I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Miss Potter. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand, gave another feather. Just one other. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand, when it’s brother gave you that scar.” He informs, pointing to my lightning bolt upon my forehead. Curious indeed.
“And who owned that wand?” I question.
“Oh, we do not speak his name. The wand chooses the witch or wizard, Miss Potter. It’s not always clear why. But I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, did great things. –Terrible—yes, but great.” Ollivander vaguely answers before handing the wand back.
Then came a knock on the window. “Y/N. Y/N!” A familiar voice calls from outside. I turn to see Hagrid. “Happy birthday.” He calls, holding a large cage housing a beautiful white owl. “Wow.” I whisper to myself. I’d never got a present before, other than the cake Hagrid had previously gifted me, and although this seemed a little odd, just perhaps not by the standards of everyone in this alley, I loved it, nonetheless.
I had half expected, now I had all my supplies, that Hagrid would take me home, back to the Dursley’s which I really did not want to do, and yet he still toured me around. He showed me every part of Diagon Alley, all I noticed apart from a seemingly sinister alley within it, and then took me for a bite to eat. I was having one of the best days of my life, which had been completely turned upside down, but I was happy for it, grateful even.
“You alright, Y/N? You seem very quiet.” Hagrid points out during our lunch in the quietest corner within the leaky cauldron. He was right, I had been quiet over lunch, and although I was filled with joy at being here, since Ollivanders all I could think about was what he had mentioned about the wizard who had given me my scar.
“He killed my parents, didn’t he? The one who gave me this.” I ask, moving the fall of my hairline to the side slightly, revealing my lightning scar. I could see in Hagrid’s expression he wasn’t expecting me to say or bring up such a thing, but he also clearly knew about it and I wanted to know more. “You know, Hagrid. I know you do.” I add softly.
He sighs in defeat. “First, and understand this Y/N because it’s very important: --not all wizards are good. some of them go bad. –A few years ago there was one wizard who went as bad as you can go. His name was V—,” Hagrid began. “—His name was V—,” Hagrid tried again.
“Maybe if you wrote it down?” I suggest, thinking he was having trouble sounding it.
“No, I can’t spell it. We just never speak his name, is all.” He informs, but I just continue looking back at him with my curious eyes. “Oh, alright—Voldemort.” He finally speaks quietly.
“Voldemort?” I repeat, thinking it was a peculiar name. Hagrid quickly shushes me; clearly I had spoke too loud and I glanced behind me. No one around us had heard or were looking our way. I turned back to Hagrid.
“It was dark times, Y/N. Dark times. –Voldemort started to gather some followers. Brought ‘em over to the dark side. Anyone that stood up to him ended up dead. –Your parents fought against him, but nobody lived once he decided to kill ‘em. Nobody. Not one. –Except you.” Hagrid explains.
“Me? –Voldemort tried to kill me?” I process in slight shock.
“Yes. That ain’t no ordinary cut on your forehead, Y/N. A mark like that only comes from being touched by a curse, and an evil curse at that.” He elaborates.
“What happened to V—? To You-Know-Who?” I question, correcting myself midsentence.
“Well, some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Nope, I reckon he’s out there still, too tired to carry on. –But one thing’s absolutely certain: something about you stumped him that night. That’s why you’re famous, that’s why everybody knows your name. –You’re the girl who lived.” Hagrid finishes.
Hagrid really had given me a lot to think about it, to process. Everything I knew about myself, my parents was all a lie. Now I was this famous girl with a cursed scar, my parents were murdered and there was potentially a dark wizard out there somewhere lurking in the shadows who wanted to kill me. But why? And if he was still out there, would he try again, would he still want me dead after all this time? This was always on my mind for the remainder of the holidays after Hagrid took me back to the Dursleys for the last month. I couldn’t quite understand why a man would want to kill a child, for what reason would he have wanted me dead? What could I do to him, a dark and powerful wizard versus a small girl who until very recently knew nothing of magic, versus a baby the first-time round? How had I survived anyway? How had I come out with only a scar, while my parents were murdered? I supposed this was what everyone also wondered. I had many unanswered questions, but like most things in my life, I let the want of them go, figuring I would most likely never know these answers.
The month waiting for the day Hagrid came back was painstakingly long. When he finally arrived, the Dursley’s did little to challenge him once again, although they seemed quite glad to be rid of me anyhow, even if I was to attend a sham school for freaks as they so often poked. I would fit in right at home, they often joked too. I was glad to be rid of them. I wouldn’t be seeing them for nearly a year, I already knew I would spend Christmas there, I had no reason to come back to visit. Until next summer I thought, as I left the house with my things accompanying Hagrid.
“So, did you get Professor Dumbledore’s package to him safely, Hagrid? You seemed mighty worried and hurried about getting it to him last time.” I query as we walked the London train station together.
“Oh yes, safe and sound. But you needn’t worry yourself about that, best you just forgot all about it, Y/N.” Hagrid responds as he reaches for his pocket watch. “Blimey, is that the time?!” He exclaims, halting and turning to face me as he puts his watch back and fishes for something else amongst his coat. “Sorry Y/N, I’m gonna have to leave ya; I’ve got some groundskeeper duties I need to attend to before welcoming the first years at Hogwarts. Now, your train leaves in 10 minutes. –Here’s your ticket. Stick to it, Y/N, that’s very important. Stick to your ticket.” Hagrid hastily explains as he hands me my train ticket. Looking it over as he finishes, it reads ‘platform 9 ¾’.
“Platform 9 ¾?” I mutter in confusion. “But Hagrid, there must be a mistake. This says platform 9 ¾. There’s no such thing, is there?” I question, but as I look up, I see Hagrid is gone. I look around and see him nowhere to be found. He’d essentially vanished. I shrugged my shoulders and just thought one word: magic. That was now the world I was in, it was quickly becoming the answer for everything, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t in awe of it every time, nor did I think it would wear off anytime soon.