The sight of the Hogwarts Express didn't bring its usual relief. I should've been ecstatic at so many months away from home, but this place - these people - had changed. Things seemed louder – some kids were letting of fireworks; McGonagall threw open the door to her compartment and shouted at them; everyone was talking much louder than necessary; the sounds of exploding snap; laughter. Already I felt unwelcome. The walls looked a darker shade, the windows in the doors seemed smaller, the carpet felt thicker beneath my feet. This didn't feel like the place I'd come every September for six years. The air tasted of something different – something like anticipation.
But maybe things just seemed louder because everyone was already here. The carriages were already full, friends had already gotten over the excitement of reunion. I was late: my wonderful sister had melted the car's locks while Dad was smoking by the station entrance. She wanted me to miss the train, to have to stay and be 'home-schooled', which really meant watching Dad work. But Xanthe never thought ahead. She was sat in the passenger seat, laughing, her face turned away from me, when her clothes erupted into flames.
As she screamed I shattered the window with my feet, and pretty soon I was hurrying through the crowded platforms, plucking shards of glass from my clothes, careful not to cut myself. I wondered if Xanthe had thought to use her wand to put her clothes out yet, and smirked a little when I thought of Dad grinding his cigarette into the ground and returning to find his car broken, his daughter on fire. He'd be furious, I was sure, but he could do nothing about it until July.
My trunk jumped around behind me. I don't know why I hurried; there wouldn't be any compartments left. My high spirit deflated when I thought of sitting out the journey in the toilets. I sighed heavily, but no matter how much I hated it there was nowhere else to go. I slowed, pondering my options; maybe I could sit out in the corridor?
"Padfoot, stop it!" James Potter tumbled out of a compartment ahead of me, taking me by surprise. His arms covered his head, protecting his hair from a jet of water that shot from the compartment.
Sirius Black emerged with a victorious smile on his face, squirting at James with a bright green water gun, on the side of which a peeling read 'Super Soaker'. "What have you got to say for yourself now?" James jumped back and grabbed the water gun, trying to prise it from Sirius hands.
As they wrestled I continued forwards, trying to find a gap big enough to edge around them. A quiet "hello" came from inside Sirius and James's compartment and I looked up to see Remus Lupin, smiling politely. I smiled back quickly, then lowered my head and tried pushing forwards, but Sirius blocked my way, unaware of my mere existence.
I cleared my throat and muttered, "Excuse me."
Sirius turned away from James and looked at me. With a wave of his wand the super soaker vanished. James shook his hair, water droplets flying free, but Sirius remained transfixed, his eyes on me. "You're that one with no friends, right?" I nodded, trying once more to move past him but he stuck out his arm. "How come?" I shrugged and ducked under his arm. I was past, finally, but he grabbed a hold of my suitcase. He laughed gently as he said, "Hey, what's the rush?"
"Come on, give it back." I grumbled, trying to take my suitcase back but he pulled it out of my reach. "If you don't mind, I've got a toilet cubicle with my name on it." I held out my hand.
"The toilets?" James grimaced. "Why do you wanna go there?"
"Got a hot date." I joked, then turned back to Sirius. "Now can I please have my bag?" He just shook his head and rolled the suitcase into his compartment.
"You can sit with us. Right guys?"
James and Peter, who was sat inside, murmured in agreement. "Why not," Remus smiled.
Why not, I thought. Why not. As I struggled to think of an excuse, any sort of reason that would get me out and back into my comfort zone, a voice in the back of my head echoed, why not? Why shouldn't I sit with them? I thought for a few seconds, looking around at the four of them. They seemed friendly enough now, but in my five years at Hogwarts I'd seen them become bullies. As I weighed it up in my mind – potential bullies versus cold hard toilet seat – the choice became clear. I sat down between Remus and the window. As I watched the seemingly endless empty green fields fly by I thought about Sirius question – why didn't I have any friends? After a few moments thought I came up with the idea I'd simply dug myself a hole, and I'd called that hole Home and shut myself inside it, all alone, and pretended I was right where I wanted to be. I'd never had any friends, unless you count a boy I'd known in year 3 who only sat with me at lunch because he liked the sandwiches my mum packed me, which I don't think does count. So how did I know? If I never left my hole, if I'd never been anywhere else, how did I know it was where I wanted to be? I figured I'd give it a go – the worst that could happen was that I didn't like it, in which case I would go back to normal. I smiled and nodded once to myself, set on that decision, and then realised that the other four were watching me. "What is it?" I asked feebly, leaning a little closer to the window.
"What's your name?" Remus asked softly, as though talking to a baby rabbit that was likely to turn and run any second.
"June," I replied uneasily.
Remus smiled. "I'm-"
"Remus," I finished for him. "And your James, and Sirius, and Peter. I know." They all looked at each other, wondering the same thing. "I've been to this school for five years now. I've p-picked up a few names."
James opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. For a few moments we all sat in silence. I thought maybe they were feeling bad that they'd waited five years to ask my name, but then realised I didn't matter that much, and they probably just didn't know what to say. There was a gentle rustle and we all turned to look at Peter, as he pulled a little bag from his pocket.
"Um… anyone like a pork scratching?" He proffered the little bag. No one said anything, and after a while, dejected, his hand dropped and he let the bag sit on his lap.
"S-sorry," I muttered by way of consolation. "I'm a vegetarian."
Sirius looked at me quizzically, one eye brow raised. "I mean," I added hurriedly, not wanting him to think I was strange. "I'm not all tree-hugging, freedom-fighting, animals-have-souls-too kinda thing. I just don't like meat. That's why I still eat marshmallows."
Peter's mouth opened and flakes of half-chewed pork scratchings fell out. "Marshmallows have meat in?" He asked incredulously.
Remus laughed and shook his head dismissively, then turned to me again. "Anyway, June," he smiled as he said my name, "How come you never talk to anyone?"
The honest answer was I didn't really know. I'd just never seen the need to. School was about school, learning and homework and everything. I didn't need to talk to anyone. I shrugged and replied, "No one ever talked to me." Which was true – I'd found that if you kept to yourself, other people just left you to it. Well, until now. And all the questions were making me feel quite uneasy.
An awkward manner came over Remus. He apologised and said, "Why don't you tell us about yourself?"
"There's n-not much to tell."
"There must be something."
"Um…" I looked around the room for inspiration, however found it rather lacking in anything remotely inspiring. My eyes wandered over the ceiling, over the light, over the plain walls and doors and the heater beneath the window. Finally, after surveying everything in the room, I glanced upon the four faces looking expectantly at me. "I-…I'm in a room full of strangers, who are actually t-taking an interest, which you should know is pretty damned unnerving for me."
Peter laughed, Sirius and James smiled, and Remus added on their behalf, "We're not strangers anymore."
I looked at them each in turn. Indeed, they weren't really strangers anymore. "I guess not," I smiled at them for the first time, and my stomach settled, the nerves now mostly gone. I felt warm, comforted, and I realised that I didn't feel that way because they were no longer strangers – I'd known them for five years already, really – but because I, myself, was no longer a stranger. I imagined roots growing out of my fingertips and my hair and becoming entangled with the many roots that joined the others, hat joined everyone else. I was connected, at long last. And for now, at least, my roots just touched the surface. But what I didn't imagine was that soon I would become so deeply tied to them as to never break free, no matter how hard I pulled.