(A/N. Comment your thoughts on Hayden and any ideas you have for my story)
"Okay, what train are we getting on?" I asked my brother as we navigated through the train station.
"9 3/4?" Harry read, obviously confused.
"Excuse me?" I questioned grabbing the ticket, but sure enough, it read 9 3/4.
"Does this even exist?" I asked Harry.
"Let me ask."
"Harry, he wouldn't-"
"Sir, can you tell me where platform 9 3/4 is?" Harry asked the conductor.
"Think your funny, do you?" He snapped at him.
"Sorry about him sir," I apologized walking over.
"You should be sorry. A lady should have better manners," the man informed me before sauntering off.
"Did you just get yelled at for something I did?" Harry asked snickering.
"Shut up, " I said hitting him.
"Filled with muggles as always!" A voice lifted above the ruckus.
"Muggles!" Me and harry announced to each other.
We ran over to the red-haired family in time to see someone go through the platform. We watched with wide eyes as one more went through. I saw a pair of twins and walked over to them.
"Hi," I said shyly.
"First year?" The taller one asked me.
I nodded my head.
"Want to know how to get on the platform?" The other asked.
"Please!" I told him nervously.
"I'm Fred," the taller said but his smirk gave him away.
"And I'm George," the shorter said with a giggle.
"Maybe if Fred didn't giggle and George didn't smirk I'd believe you," I said calling them out.
"I like you!" Fred said.
"Fred, you first," the lady said to him.
"I'm George!" Fred pipped up and started to run for the wall.
"Run and close your eyes," George told me and I listened.
"And you call yourself our mother!" George scolded.
As we were about to run through Fred yelled back, "Just kidding, I really am Fred."
I closed my eyes and waited for the impact of the wall, but it never came. When I opened my eyes, the twins were waiting for me. They had wide smiles as I took in the train station. It was bright and magical, and there was a beautiful black and red train.
"You can sit with us," Fred offered me as he gave my bags to the man helping grab the bags.
"I would, but I want to sit with my brother. Thank you for helping me," I told the twins.
"See you around?" Fred asked fishing for my name.
"Hayden," I told him.
"Good luck at the sorting Hayden!"
"The what?" I asked with wide eyes.
They were gone before I could ask for more. What did he mean by sorting? Will there be a test or maybe a challenge? I pulled out my book on magical creatures and read about unicorns. I smiled at the fact they were real. I always hoped but figured they weren't.
"A bunch of self-entitled assholes!" A black boy ranted, storming into my compartment.
"Bad day?" I asked barely looking up from my book.
"I suppose. Are you pureblood?" He asked me.
I shrugged in confusion but he took it as a Yes.
"Can I sit here? If I have to deal with one more annoying person, I am going to lose my mind."
"Sure. My brother abandoned me," I said closing my book.
"I'm Blaise Zabini."
"I'm Hayden Potter."
"As in?"
"Yes. My brother is Harry Potter. And yes, I'm alive," I informed Blaise.
"Why have I never heard about you?" He asked me.
"Apparently wizard reports didn't know I existed," I told him.
"What house do you think you'll be in?"
"House?" I asked, my eyebrows knitting together.
"There are four houses. Gryffindor, the brave, reckless, and noble. Then there's Hufflepuff, The kind, loyal, and kind of pushover. Then we have Ravenclaw, they are smart, creative, and wit. Finally, there's Slytherin, they are determined, ambitious, and maybe a little power-hungry."
"What house will you be in?" I asked him, thinking about what house fits me the best.
"Toss up."
Blaise pulled out a book on wizarding families. My guess is he is pureblood, which means he knows things.
"Who's Voldemort?" I asked him and he dropped his book.
"Why?" His voice was suddenly cold.
"He killed my parents, and no one will tell me anything about him," I ranted; I just want for someone to answer my questions.
Blaise picked up his book and bookmarked the page. He then threw the book to me.
"That book tells you about him. You deserve to know about who killed your parents."
"Thank you, Blaise," I said with a smile.
"Whatever. I don't hate your company and I'd hate for you to be cursed by saying his name," he said nonchalantly before pulling out a new book.
I did the same as him. Me and him read in silence for the remainder of the trip. I opened the book he gave me and knitted my eyebrows together. His original name was Tom Riddle. How in the bloody hell did he go from Tom Riddle to Voldemort?
"There you are, Blaise. Why are you in here with her?" Draco Malfoy spat coming into my compartment.
"Do you know who she is?" Blaise asked him, a neutral look on his face.
"I know she doesn't know how to respect her superiors," He spat at me.
"Last time I checked, little boys with overly greased hair weren't my superiors," I retorted, not even looking up at him.
"I am Draco Malfoy! Now get out of my compartment!" He yelled at me.
"I am Hayden Potter! And I was in this bloody compartment first your spoiled brat!" I yelled back.
Draco went silent, the power of my last name hitting. He stared at me dumbfounded, even after the train stopped. When he processed what I said his face went to disgust.
"And you just as disgraceful as your dead, mud-blood mother," he said before hitting my shoulder and leaving my compartment.
I hate this kid. I hate him so much. If only I knew it would get so much worse.