Morning. Platform 9 ¾.


Balfour Spectre could barely remember the last time he stood on this famed platform. Almost twenty years ago, must have been, on his final return from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. It had barely occurred to him then, as it had barely occurred to him not more than a year ago, that he would soon be seeing off his first child to board that same train. Glossy red and black, ready to bear its precious cargo. Everything exactly as he remembered it.

Including the chaotic din of other families doing the same! Steam rising in the air, cages of disgruntled owls, school trunks piled upon by heavy bags and stacks of tied up textbooks. And everybody yelling, laughing, or crying. Whispering somber farewells.

“Here we are.” Balfour let go of the luggage trolley, looking down to smile bracingly at his son. Feliks was still flushed in the face from their run through the wall. “And with time to spare. Chin up, you’re going to love it there!” he patted the boy’s shoulder before turning his attention to his partner.

This was also a first for Johann, who had schooled at Durmstrang. Sometimes, when Bal was feeling wistful, he wondered what life would have been like if he’d met his wonderful wizard at school instead of at Le Masque. For all he knew they might have hated each other’s guts.

Or not. “And we’ll both see you in December. For Christmas,” his smile softened at the idea of welcoming Feliks back home to a full house of festive celebrations and eager family.

The platform was full of people, even more than he ever saw on platform seven and a half. There were all manner of wizarding (and Muggle) life amongst the crowd. It was noisy, busy but there was a sense of community. Families gathered together, saying goodbyes, last minute wishes and requests while trunks slid through the doors of the train with magical ease. He’d have acknowledged spotting a dozen or so colleagues and acquaintances seeing off their offspring were it not for the fact Feliks was experiencing all of this for the first time too.

Here they were, a family gathered together, saying goodbye, when they had barely said hello. Packing Feliks off to one of the best schools in Europe for weeks until Christmas. He said one of, since as much as it was Balfour’s school, and his family taught there, Johann would always be a Durmstranger. He could feel Feliks’ nerves as if they were his own, stood here. Balfour might as well have said ‘chin up’ for all three of them.

“It’ll be here before you know it.” Johann heard himself say, and properly focused downwards on the skinny eleven year old. “The past week was like blinking,” he reasoned, “so a term is just like a yawn?” He shrugged. “And we’ll write. You can tell us of all the adventures you’re having. Learning to fly a broom, torturing cousin Ignan - I mean, learning curses in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and everyone will be looking out for you. Oma, and Sylvain and your cousins…” Johann realised that as much as he was saying this for Feliks, he was also saying it for himself and Balfour. Why did this feel like jumping off a cliff? They were sending an eleven year old off to boarding school. Just a surprise, son of a psychopath eleven year old. Simple.

Feliks could feel his heart racing, as it had last night when he was laying in bed at the manor and watching the jellyfish glowing various shades of nervous purples or beige. He already missed Ivoire and Sangre, who had slept on his bed these last two weeks. And Whiskey. And the cats. And the newts. Home. Feliks had to keep reminding himself that he would be back, that his room would always be waiting: a place in this world that actually wanted him. Loved him.

He clasped his hands together and looked up at the two wizards. Papa looked quite happy in a sad way that meant he was going to miss Feliks. Johann looked nervous. Feliks hesitated. They were trying to be reassuring but he was so excited that his fear was easily eclipsed.

“Okay. Promise you’ll write. Both of you!” he hugged Johann abruptly, as if though making the decision all of a sudden. It was really more like hugging Johann’s stomach, considering the height difference.  “And promise you’ll both be here to collect me!” The young wizard insisted and released him, in favour of hugging Balfour next.

It was very comforting to know that Oma would be at Hogwarts… and even Professor Storm, and Onuris. But the people Feliks wanted the most were here on the platform, with him. There was so much he wanted to know about them still. He let go of his papa, who reached down and tugged his wool hat over his eyes teasingly.

            “Promise,”” his father conceded, with a warmth in his voice that Feliks could tangibly feel. “Try not to get into any fights. But if you do, keep those fists up eh?”

Feliks laughed, even while he wondered if he would have to fight with any of his new classmates. They had taught him how to at the Cottage - that is, how to fight like a muggle. He would need to rely on his wand now, which was safely tucked into his pocket and awaiting use at school.

“I promise, I won’t get into any trouble…” his wide mouth pulled into a smile that said otherwise. “I don’t want to make you worry.”

“Promise.” Johann replied, arms wrapping around the small wizard before them on the platform as he was near rugby-tackled around the stomach. He glanced to Balfour with a soft smile as Feliks demanded they both be there to collect him at Christmas. They both very much wanted to be.

“We’re … parents,” Johann replied, and then realised what he’d said, and took a moment to take stock of it, “we’ll always worry.” He squeezed Feliks’ shoulder and laughed lightly. “And if you don’t get into any trouble, you’re probably not doing it right.” He was certain Balfour had got in trouble at school, and even bookish Johann had at one point or another. It was a coming of age and ability to do so. “Just don’t go actively seeking it. Professor Storm takes no prisoners.”

Johann glanced about them at the other figures on the platform, all clusters of family and some of them greeting friends. He recognised a few familiar faces nearby, aurors Trevelyan and Pinn, and Shacklebolt from his own floor. Further back he was sure he’d seen a Pepper or two, and even some Spectres. He was a little glad that they were just the three of them, no interruptions. A chance to say a goodbye without a rush. A proper family. Maybe even more so soon, Johann thought, glancing to Balfour with warm thoughts.

“Oh, and no romance. Not yet. You’re too young.” Johann half joked, given the slightly awkward moment between them all, and poked in a tickling way at Feliks’ ribs. “Have to wait until your thirties to find the one you love.” He relented and elbowed Balfour gently.

Parents! Gods, they were parents, and that would continue to surprise him in the months to come. Balfour couldn’t help but feel that the word sounded perfect in Johann’s mouth - just as he had every notion in his mind now that there could have been nobody else capable of seeing him through these past few days, nobody except his wonderful wizard.

Voices rose and fell on the platform around them, words lost to the cloud of steam drifting above. He laughed as Johann elbowed him, grinning fondly. “Don’t want to break any hearts so young.” Bal agreed, winking, and watched Feliks wrinkle his nose at the idea. That would soon change. Hormones at boarding school… a dangerous combination. Almost as dangerous as having a Forbidden Forest in the vicinity. Danger was how they learned, after all.

 “We love you, alright?” he told the young boy and raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “So just remember that if you’re ever feeling down.”

Feliks nodded more solemnly at this. He adjusted his backpack straps, glancing over his shoulder at the train. His dark-eyed gaze followed the figures of other children his age as they rushed to meet friends or to pull away from their families. There had been no time to acquaint Feliks with any of his peer groups before Hogwarts: it was all new to him.

Without thinking, Balfour gave his son a little nudge forward.