September 1, a little after nine in the morning, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King's Cross Station.
Every year at this time, this was where the concentration of wizards was highest in the entire UK.
Hundreds of wizards in robes crowded onto the same platform, their trunks piled up like little mountains. Owls flapped their wings in cages, toads hopped out of pockets and darted about on the ground, parents called their children's names through the crowd, and children called for their parents.
Clouds of steam billowed from the engine of the Hogwarts Express, its scarlet body dazzling in the morning light.
Petunia Evans stood at the edge of the platform, some distance from the crowd. This was her third visit.
She had come when Lily started her first year, standing in this same spot as Lily pushed her trunk toward the train, then turned back to smile and wave at her.
She had called her a freak, regretted it the moment she said it, and still remembered the look on Lily's face.
She hadn't come in Lily's second year. She had found an excuse to stay home, saying she had too much homework.
She had come again last year, and this year too.
She told herself she was here because Mum had asked her to come, because Lily wanted her here, because there was no one to look after Nox. She turned all sorts of reasons over in her mind, but even she knew they were nothing but excuses. She simply wanted to come.
She wore a thick, dark gray woolen skirt, its fabric much heavier than the season called for, its hem falling below her knees, with a beige knitted cardigan over it.
She had tried on several outfits in front of the mirror before finally choosing this