Top Of The Foodchain (Hogwarts fanfic)

1

HOGWARTS School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is the place to be for any young witch or wizard. Seen by many as the best magic school in the world, it's incredible structure and grandness aren't nearly as impressive as what lies inside it's stone walls. Currently under Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, 'Hogwarts' was built in the late Early Middle Ages and still stands as grand against the mountainous backdrop of the Scottish Highlands as it did when it was first built all those many years ago.

I let out a deep sigh as I close my hardback copy of 'Hogwarts: A History'. The book has been in my family for at least 4 generations and is one of our families most treasured possessions. If I were to lose it, I image I'd face a fate worse than death. My great-great-grandmother was close friends with Bathilda Bagshot and so was given one of the very first copies, back when it was written. I turn the book over in my hands, letting the rough leather cover stroke against my fingers. Turning to the very front page, I read the inscription written within:

To my Dearest friend, Violette, take this book with you wherever you go as a reminder of our friendship and the power of family,

B xx

Despite growing up around magic and all of it's wonder and beauty, it still fascinates me, the lengths at which it can go. From the ever-changing information in this book that always fits the time period, to my mother changing from her night-gown into the most beautiful ballgown with the flick of her wand, it's all so beautiful and amazing.

I walk over to the bookshelf and place great-great-grandma Violette's 'Hogwarts: A History' back into it's glass case and the enchantment over it glitters back down, safe and sound. Picking up my suitcase and turning to look at the book once more, I stroll out of the study.

~~~

Whooooo!

The screeching sound of the Hogwarts Express rings out across platform 9 and 3/4, and I watch in amusement as a group of first-years jump suddenly at the loud noise. The sound of chatter and laughter fills my ears as I stroll through the crowd and onto the train. The train is old, incredibly old. Back when it was first brought about, many pureblood families hated the idea of their children using 'unsanitary' muggle transport and although I completely see their point and do sometimes agree, the magic that you feel the first time you step onto that train is different to any type I had felt previously in my years before Hogwarts. However, that excitement and euphoria was then, this is now.

I slip into an empty compartment and slide onto the seat sighing, I tend to be doing a lot of that recently. The train whistle blows for a final time and we begin our journey. Normally I would look out at the green fields and countryside that roll past but it seems this journey it's more than usually dismal outside with the rain streaming down the windows and the wind howling loudly.

Luckily this helps to calm the unusual sense of anxiety that is creeping into my stomach, a feeling that doesn't occur often, especially to someone like me. I breathe deeply, in through my nose for four seconds, hold for seven, breathe out for eight. I repeat this a few times and a wave of calm starts to lull me back to my usual state of general collectiveness.

Time starts to pass, dragging on and on,and with nothing to think about, the gentle rolling of the wheels beneath me and the rhythmic tapping of the rain against the glass quickly drags me into a deep sleep.

I dream of a general nothingness, with a soft flash of images of my mother and father, or a pleasant dinner party with important people interrupting the dark every now and again. Everything is secure and safe in my mind, nothing I think, no secrets, will ever escape into the outside world. No-one will ever know what I know.