I round the corner, eyes wide as saucers, staring at the enormous train before me. It must be at least a mile long! I think. Hefting my luggage into the racks, I walk through the train, trying to find a free compartment. Students are jostling each other, talking in raised voices about who'll make the Quidditch team this year, placing bets on how much homework Professor Babbling will give her students, etc. I finally find a spare compartment near the back of the train and settle in for the long ride to Scotland.
I stare out the train window, watching the countryside roll past at a ridiculous speed. I barely register the door of my compartment opening. Only when the opener stumbles, crashes into the frame, and basically creates a disturbing racket, do I shift my attention from the window.
In the doorway is a boy who looks about my age. He has large hazel eyes and is wearing lush, new Hogwarts robes. Is he prefect? No, can't be. He doesn't have the badge. And anyways, first years can't be prefects. He has tousled raven black hair that's sticking out in all the possible directions in the universe. Well, he obviously doesn't use Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, I thought. Oh no! If he doesn't use Sleekeazy's to tame his hair, then he must have never heard of it! After all, literally everyone in the Wizarding World knows about Fleamont Potter's ingenious invention. Even I use it to make my hair glossy. This means he can only be a muggleborn. Oh crap. Mother will not want me to be mixing with this sort. He himself looks rather sheepish.
I must have been looking at him oddly because when he speaks, there's a note of caution in his voice.
"Oh....er....I, er, was wondering if I could, er, sit here 'cause, well, all the other compartments are full.... You don't mind, do you?"
"Uh, yeah, sure."
He lets out a sign of relief and closes the door. After a moment of awkward silence, he tries to start a conversation and I jump at the chance.
"I'm James, by the way. James Fleamont Potter."
I internally whoop. Good, okay, so he's pure-blooded. It isn't like I personally care but I know mum would kill me if I made friends with a muggleborn.
"I'm Sirius. Sirius Black."
I hope he's not scared by the last name. We Blacks are the most well-known pure-blood house in the Wizarding World, after all. Thankfully, he doesn't seem disgruntled.
"Nice to meet you Sirius," he says in a joking voice. "You're serious you're name's Sirius, mate?"
We grin at each other at the play-on-words.
"Yeah, serious," I say.
At that, we crack up.
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We're still laughing a little when the compartment door opens again, revealing a mousy brown haired boy clutching a book and looking like he was forced to stop at a particularly good part. He's got a couple of strange scratches on him. Maybe he also gets beaten?
Yes, despite the Black family motto of "Toujours pur," it does not resonate in certain family members. That includes me. Sure, I'm pure-blood, but I don't share all the same beliefs as my family. So, I get beaten. Since I was five, I've been beaten with a flail (a sort of stick to which is attached an iron chain on an intimidating spiky, iron ball), and a couple of other Medieval-looking torture tools. Since last year, though, my parents decided I was old enough for Unforgivable Curses so I've received the Cruciatus Curse quite a few times.
Looking at the boy before me, I can't help thinking that maybe he was also like me. That depends on his last name. I may also be overthinking a bit because he also looks like he could be a prefect. A really short prefect, at that. And anyway, James and I already have our robes on.
"Hey, um, could I sit with you guys? The rest of the train's packed."
James nods and scoots over
"Sure thing," I find myself saying.
"Okay, thanks! I'm Remus Lupin and you are.....?" he asks.
"James Fleamont Potter."
"Sirius Orion Black III."
"Cool."
The compartment door slides open for the fourth time revealing a petite witch (who, by the way, is just a little too round around the middle).
"Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asks.
"Yeah, I'll have a box of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum-12 packs, if you please, chocolate frogs, a sac of pumpkin pasties, 12 cauldron cakes-put them in a box, will you? That's all for me. Sirius? Remus? Care to get anything?" James asks.
"Mhm. I think I'll take the lot, thanks," I say nonchalantly.
The trolley lady leaves before she runs out of things for the rest of the school.
Remus gapes at us, shaking his head.
"How do you guys have so much money?" he asks, awestruck.
"Well, James's father is Fleamont Potter who has that super successful business. Or two. I can't remember. And me...well, let's just say the Black Family vault is overflowing so we had to have three installed. You can share the food if you want."
He eagerly looks at us and we dump the contents of our purchases along the seats for all three of us to share.
James and I talk about Quidditch with occasional historical input or fact correction from Remus for a while. Apparently, he wants to be the youngest Seeker of the century on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team and he's a huge Chudley Cannons fan.
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The train is running along smoothly when our compartment door slides open again. Geez, this better not be another person wanting to share the compartment 'cause it's already full with Remus's books, James's box of Quidditch balls, my own personal self, and the candy.
In the compartment doorway, however, is a pale, sleek boy with platinum blond hair and a pointed face. I recognize him immediately: Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. Behind him is my cousin, Bellatrix Black with her head of glossy black hair falling to her waist. Behind her yet, there's Narcissa and Andromeda, her sisters and my cousins. Basically, the whole gang of pure-blood kids from pure-blood families on the Sacred 28 list.
Apparently, they've been looking through compartments and taunting muggleborns (mudbloods, they call them). I suppose they're looking for the same thing here so I stare out the window and pretend not to mind that our peaceful compartment just got intruded on my the meanest gang of pure-blood fanatics in all of Hogwarts. Alright, I don't know about all of Hogwarts, but still. It's quite possible. Especially since Bella's included.
Lucius raps on the side of the frame and leans against it.
"Introduce yourselves."
He says it as a command and he and his gang snicker.
"What, you're too scared to say your own names, eh?"
More snickers.
It seems as if James has had enough of being called scared. He catches the snitch one last time before turning to Malfoy.
"Potter," he says, shortly. Lucius nods, satisfied.
"You. Name. Or do I have to order you around like house-elves?"
Bella looks like she's on the verge of doubling over from laughter. It takes all I have not to get up from my window seat and give Malfoy a piece of my mind.
"Lupin."
Seems like, 'Lupin' is not a name in Malfoy's dictionary so he asks,
"Are your parents magical?" It's more of a statement than a question.
"Obviously," he says, rolling his eyes.
Malfoy nods and turns until he spots me. Or rather, the back of my head since I'm still looking out the window.
"Oi, you! By the window! Who're you?" he sneers.
Finally. My chance has come.
I let silence reign for a couple moments and I can tell my cousins are starting to guess who I am simply from the dramatic entrance.
They're right. I swivel around and lock eyes with Malfoy. His face is shocked and I smile falsely.
"Black. Must say, Malfoy, I'm surprised you didn't recognize me. Surely you would know me from all those....times visiting, no?" I drawl.
He starts to back out of the compartment, instantly intimidated by the mere presence of a Black. See, this is what I mean when I say sometimes the Black name is useful.
Unfortunately, my dear cousin Bella isn't intimidated. Drat, I forgot she was here.
"Morning, Sirius. So, how's Reggie? Doing well? Following mummy?"
"Regulus is perfectly fine, thank you. And you? I'm sure you, Cissy, and Andy have loads of gossip from your little trip down the train." I say through gritted teeth in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Don't you use that voice with me, you idiotic bastard! I will-" she's dragged out of the compartment yelling threats at me.
After a few moment of awkward silence, James shatters it with the most helpful comment in the universe.
"Well, that was awkward."
Thanks for pointing out the obvious, mate.