**Jemma's POV**
"Are you packed?" Mum asks, sticking her head in the door. I nod, not looking up from my window. I hear her sigh and walk into the room.
"You know it's better this way," she says, "it's a great school! You'll make great friends!"
"It's on the other side of the world," I point out, "and everyone will already be in close friend groups! I'll just be the weird girl trying to fit in!"
"Honey," Mum strokes my hair back off my forehead, "you'll be unique! Everyone will want to get to know you. It'll be fun. I promise!"
"I'll be the only one who doesn't go home for holidays."
"Jem, sometimes we just have to do things we don't like,"Phil, my step-father,says, walking in. I stand up, my eyes blazing.
"Who asked you?" I growl, my wand in my hand. He narrows his eyes at me.
"Put that thing away," he says, motioning to my wand. I casually point it at him.
"What? This?" I laugh, "and if I don't, what could you do about it? You're a muggle."
"Jemma," Mum says sharply. Phil glares at me for a moment, then stalks out.
"Jem, really?" Mum scowls reproachfully. I grab my trunk and owl.
"Can we just go?"
"Sure," she sighs, "you going to say goodbye to the horses?"
"Already have," I reply, dragging my stuff downstairs. We get in the car and start driving.
"I love a sunburnt country," I recite, "A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror –
The wide brown land for me..."
I hide my tears from mum as she pulls up in an isolated spot.
"Here's the portkey," she says, pointing to an old horses bit. I notice tears rolling down her tanned cheeks and hug her tightly.
"Grandma said you can stay with her, if you want," she sniffles, "and if you want to track down your dad, she'll help too."
"Bye," I choke out, grabbing my luggage with one hand and the portkey with the other. Mum suddenly whizzes away in a blur of colour and I feel my breakfast rise into my throat. Suddenly my feet hit the ground and I stumble, dropping my stuff.
"Ouch," I moan. My owl, Jerry, is squawking and beating the sides of his cage with his wings. I quickly right his cage and shush him. I discard the portkey and look around. I'm in a small, dark alley and I can hear the sounds of a city. I pick up my luggage and walk out into the street. People are rushing around every where and for a moment I feel like slinking back into the alley, then I see a giant clock. Ten minutes to eleven. I feel a rush of panic and look around for the train station.
"Excuse me?" I ask a bald man, "can you tell me where the train station is?"
He stares at me for a moment as if I'm a complete idiot, then points behind me. Oh.
"Thanks," I mutter, blushing. I dragmy stuff inside then look at my ticket again. Platform 9 3/4. I walk between platforms 9 and 10 and begin looking around. I didn't expect it to be obvious, but I thought maybe there'd be some sign of where to go. I look over at the clock. Five minutes.
"Ah!" I groan to Jerry. He squawks calmly.
"It's alright for you," I mutter.
"Quickly! We're late!"
I turn and see a large group of people running straight for me.
"George, help Ginny, will you?" the oldest woman, the mother I presume says. I watch, hoping against hope.
"The Hogwarts express won't wait!" a tall, balding man says. My heart leaps.
"Excuse me!" I call, hurrying over, not bothering about being shy or anything other than direct. A younger looking girl looks over at me.
"Hi," I smile, "umm, are you going to Hogwarts?"
"What?" she asks, blushing and looking puzzled. I realise she couldn't understand because I was talking fast and with my accent.
"Are you going to Hogwarts?" I ask slowly.
"Oh, yes!" she nods. I sigh with relief.
"Can you tell me-"
"Just come with us, dear," the mother says, glancing at the clock, "quickly!"
I find myself being swept along with them, straight towards the barrier! I cringe, waiting for the impact, but it doesn't come. I open my eyes to a bright red engine. I look around and see the group rushing off. I hurriedly follow, hearing a whistle. I reach a door and shove my stuff aboard, then leap on with a sigh of relief. I spot an empty compartment and install myself in it, letting out a long breath.
"We did it, Jerry," I say, leaning my head back on the seat.
"Fred! I- Oh..."
I look up and see a tall boy with red hair and hazel eyes looking at me sheepishly.
"Sorry," he says, beginning to back out, "I thought this was free."
"It's just me," I tell him, sitting up straight, "you can sit here, if you want."
"Ok," he grins, "Fred!"
Another boy, identical to the first appears, hauling two trunks.
"Hi," I say, squeezing to the side to allow them room to put the trunks up.
"I'm George, and this is Fred," George says.
"I'm Jemma," I reply, brushing my lip length hair over my shoulder.
"You're not English," Fred observes.
"No, I'm Australian," I tell him, "I'm transferring here."
"Oooh, a newbie," George grins, "what year?"
"Sixth," I answer, "you?"
"The same," Fred says with a grin, "this could be fun."
"A new victim," George agrees teasingly. I smile back confidently.
"I'd like to see you try."
