Chapter Text
Link was eleven years old when the letter arrived. It was the last thing his little, modest, muggle-born family ever expected to hear. His mother had convinced herself that it was nothing more than a prank. Her wild baby boy, a wizard? Was there even such a thing as magic?
She had thought it was for fairytales alone, but the letter looked oddly formal and she could not ignore that there had been several times where things that could only be described as incredible, happened around her boy. Link had always had a natural way with animals, certainly, but it was around that time when things had gotten particularly strange. At first, she chalked it up to puberty, but puberty did not result in lights flickering or objects disappearing and reappearing. Not to mention he had quite the knack for getting himself into trouble—so she figured what was the harm in doing some research? If it was a trick, then at least they could probably make it go away.
It was then that, as a little family, they’d taken their first steps into the magical realm.
Six years later, that very same boy was strolling through the train station alone. He was much taller than he’d been that first year, and he was more knowledgeable, too. It was his last year at Hogwarts, and he needed to make it count. His trolley was loaded with his luggage and his sassy feline companion, Midna, was making a pair of eyes up at him from the top of it—her paw hovering just over one of the latches. With one flick of her nail, the straps would come undone.
“Don’t you dare,” he warned her, although he was trying to stay quiet. He didn’t think the muggles would look on in judgement to see him talking to a cat, but he didn’t have the time to stop and catch his luggage if she unlatched it. For Merlin’s sake, he was just trying to get on the platform!
Her paw lifted again, ready to pounce, but Link gave the trolley a sharp jerk that jostled Midna to the side, and he gave the menace a sly grin.
“There’s more of that to come if you don’t behave. At least wait until we’re on the train,” Link said and, with a running start, pushed his trolley through the red bricks of the column between platforms 9 and 10.
It was a breath of fresh air when he emerged on Platform 9 ¾.
At least now, Link didn’t have to worry about muggles making eyes at him. He was back where he belonged, on the magical side of the world, and the hustle and bustle of fellow students and their families comforted him. Midna seemed far less keen to knock anything over now that they weren’t somewhere he could be embarrassed easily. He directed his cart towards the train, where he knew he would bump into someone familiar sooner or later.
Link wasn’t popular by any means, but he wasn’t a total loner, either. There were times he preferred to be alone, sure, but Link had gathered a good handful of friends within his classmates, and after the summer vacation they just had, he could use a friendly face or spot of company. But he also knew if he didn’t try to snag a seat now, there wouldn’t be any good ones left open, and he would be stuck sitting with someone like Groose for the entirety of the ride to Hogwarts. No one should have to befall that horrid fate.
So, for the sake of an enjoyable ride, Link gathered his feline friend and his carry-ons and boarded the train. He took the first empty compartment he saw, and settled himself in by the window.
How in Merlin’s beard do you get on this bloody platform?
Zelda huffed and looked down at the parchment folded neatly in her hand. Platform 9 ¾ was supposed to be between these two columns, yet there wasn’t a train in sight—at least, not the enchanted one she was destined to board this afternoon.
It’s only been a few weeks since she and her father moved to London, and Zelda already missed France. Especially Beauxbatons. She missed the grand chateau with its majestic gardens and ever-changing blooms, the creeping ivy that always followed her whenever she walked passed, admittedly distracted by the opened book in her hand. She’ll miss the spacious carriages that used to greet her at the beginning of each year and the wood nymphs that serenaded the students during their grand dinner feast. During her rushed research about her new school, reading books like Hogwarts: A History, she had learned that at Hogwarts, they had a student’s choir that included giant frogs for their musical entertainment.
While the frogs seemed rather intriguing to Zelda, she wasn’t entirely invested in the idea of listening to them ribbit and croak whilst she ate her roast beef and Yorkshire pudding… or whatever other English food will be served there.
Why did her father have to run for Minister of Magic—and win? Why did they have to pack up everything valuable to them from their little chateau in the south side of France and move to the grimy, bustling city of London? She should be enthralled by this big change, eager to absorb every last piece of knowledge when it came to magic, but instead, she had a shard of bitterness poking at her heart.
The sudden anxious clang of talons against metal jolted Zelda from her spiraling thoughts. Tilting her head, Zelda leaned down to level her eyes with the cage she had placed delicately atop her luggage cart.
“What’s the matter, Sheik? Are you homesick, too?” She asked softly, her eyes gentle as she sighed. “Me too, mon amour.” She wanted to comfort him through the gold cage, but Zelda knew better than that. Sheik was just as impish as his owner; a curious prankster with a knack for mischief. If she stuck a finger through Sheik's cage, he'd playfully try to nip at it. It was his way of giving her a little kiss on her hand that would prickle more with pain than with affection. Instead, she smoothed her fingers over the pendant that dangled around her neck, tucked and hidden beneath her school uniform that was yet to be adorned with her house colors, whatever they may be.
She was quite nervous about that as well.
Where would she fit in? Would Zelda even be able to make friends with other seventh-years? Everyone in her grade has spent close to a decade together, settling into their cliques and clubs and friend groups just like she had done in France. Could she be able to make just one friend that wouldn’t immediately categorize her as some posh blonde girl with a famous father? She’d find out soon enough.
Cooing at her feathered friend, Zelda stopped her trolley to try and calm Sheik’s ruffled feathers when a curious presence appeared in the corner of her eye. She glanced up just in time to spot a fast-walking boy about her age, speaking to a cat who was lounging atop his cluttered cart of suitcases.
That had to be a Hogwarts student.
And she was just about to start following him too, until he walked straight into the brick column like it wasn’t there at all.
Zelda rolled her eyes. Of course that was the magical entrance to Platform 9 ¾. Just another amusing antic she was going to have to get used to; the ridiculously silly humor that seemed to encumber the aura of her new life. Taking her primly packed trolley of luggage, Zelda pushed her way through Platform 9 ¾, and into the wizarding world.
» . «
Steam billowed above her as students hung out the train’s windows to yell at their friends. It was crowded and overwhelming with parents hugging their children and kids jumping aboard, eagerly excited to start another year at school. Walking along the length of the Hogwarts Express, Zelda found a place to store her belongings, collected her carry-on, and pulled herself onto the magical train, but she could feel her anxiety rising, mixing with the London bog and shrill giggles all around her.
Due to her inability to find the platform so swiftly, she had been one of the last remaining students to board the train. That meant she’d have to find a seat next to someone instead of the other way around. She would much rather find a cozy nook with a good view; a seat that was peaceful and quiet and away from any prying eyes, but unfortunately, she didn’t have that luxury now.
Her footsteps were muffled on the carpet as Zelda walked down the narrow hallway of the train, already in her school uniform. It was a black, patchless cloak, though she had her wand in her pocket and a small bag that hung over her shoulder which contained a few snacks and a paperback to read on the journey. Prior to her boarding, she had released Sheik so he could make his way to the castle by himself instead of being locked in a compartment all day. Zelda had already felt like she was trapped in a cage, and she didn’t want the same fate for her dear companion.
What would Hogwarts be like for a seventh-year transfer student? Especially one with such a soft french accent? Most students would know exactly who she was based on the newspaper articles of her and her father in The Daily Prophet. Wizarding families were heavily invested in their magical community and followed the politics of their world rather intensely, but that also meant they were easily susceptible to rumors and gossip. Would Zelda have the same fate at her new school? With her smiling face plastered all over the papers so much recently, Zelda had a feeling she might receive some unwanted attention.
Shaking off her insecurities, Zelda tried to find a compartment to sit quietly and blend into the background. There were cubbies packed with rowdy students, laughing and joking and reuniting, catching each other up about their summer vacations and Zelda felt the envy creep up her neck like Devil’s Snare. She wasn’t exactly the most popular girl in her old school, but she had a small group of friends that she was leaving behind at Beauxbatons and she already missed them terribly.
The sound of a door sliding open behind her had Zelda glancing back over her shoulder, curious to know who it was and what they wanted. Within seconds, out popped a rather large head of styled red hair from a nearby train booth, and the smile that came with him was smirking right her way.
“Hey, if you’re having trouble finding a seat, there’s a spot open in here for you!”
The gesture seemed polite enough, but judging by his tone there was an underlying meaning. Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously when she heard another voice call out from behind the ridiculous red pompadour.
“He’s talking about his lap, love!” whoever it was shouted, and a riot of laughter quickly broke out in their heckling train booth.
With a huff, Zelda snapped her head forward once again and started stomping down the aisle, ignoring their beckoning pleas of “awe, come on gorgeous, we were only joking!” and, “we’ll keep it warm for ya if you wanna come back later!”
Afraid that they might start following her, Zelda slid into the first empty booth she could find and swiftly pulled her wand out of her pocket. With the rapid flick of mahogany wood, the curtains dropped dramatically from their hooks and blanketed the sliding glass doors, shielding her from any passerbys walking down the long hallway.
She let out a frustrated sigh and turned to sit by the train window—arguably the best seat via public transportation—only to realize she wasn’t alone. Curious blue eyes were staring up at her, followed by the judgemental gaze of a black feline.
By the time the train was readying to leave, Link was under the impression that he’d gotten very lucky. Usually, he didn’t get away with an empty compartment, but there was no one else in it now and he was more than content with that. It would give him the space needed to sprawl his lanky legs out on the seat and take a nap, should he wish, or practice a few of the spells he was struggling with. In the meantime, he’d taken out a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and had made himself comfortable against the window.
He was more than ready for the train to start moving. He always liked watching the greenery outside of his window blur together as the speed picked up, but before the train could even lurch into motion, the door to his previously otherwise empty compartment slid open. In waltzed a girl who looked about the same height and maybe the same age as him, but he couldn’t see her face. He also couldn’t ignore her groans of frustration.
Before he could protest or voice a warm greeting, the girl was whipping out her wand and the curtains were snapping shut. He blinked, staring up at her with wide eyes. What in the hell…? What was she… was she hiding from someone?
She turned, and that’s when Link’s breath caught and any complaints he had dispelled from his lips entirely. To say she was pretty was doing her a disservice. Long golden hair and emerald green eyes with soft little freckles atop her rosy cheeks, she was several kilometers over gorgeous, and he wondered for a moment whether she was a Veela, or a nymph, or some other mythical being fabled with unreal beauty. He didn’t even have time to question how he had gone all these years at Hogwarts and never noticed her before because she was staring back at him and almost all the words in the entire English language were suddenly lost to Link. He was the one that broke the silence first.
“...um… hi?”