I've been working on this for a while now, guys. I hope it's good. I've always thought at least one of the marauders should be a lady - GIRL POWER - and that it should most likely be Lupin. And who knows, maybe there'll be a little romance waiting for her around the corner. I don't wanna give any spoilers, but I guess we're all thinking about that - cough - cough - black dog or something... Let's wait and see.

"A lunar lantern aloft in the sky so high it scrapes dust from the stars, draws whites from our eyes as we stumble blindly in dreamy shadows, so submerged by blue hues under the crescent moon's curvy mug, our muse pacing in weightless static, raising hairs in our scalp, time steals nothing, we wax poetic in deep sleep."

Going to Hogwarts is an even more significant event than I anticipated. Dad insists on taking me to the train. He doesn't say, but I know he's afraid to leave me alone in a crowd. I don't blame him. I'm scared of what may happen, too.

Dumbledore said that it wasn't a problem. His faith, his certainty, left me completely speechless. He spent the entire day here with us yesterday, explaining the terms and conditions of me going to school. Dumbledore doesn't miss anything. Dad always said, 'the devil is in the details', but someone like Dumbledore sees those details and doesn't leave anything to chance. He thought of everything before coming to speak to us. He even knew I would refuse to go. And he had all the proper arguments to make me change my mind.

Mom is late for work. She glances at me with tears in her eyes; tears I cannot interpret. Is she happy for me? Is she sad? Or is it fear taking control of this entire family? It has been like this for a while now. I doubt I know what is like not to feel fear. They surely know. I bet they didn't use to live like this. I bet they were happy once, that they smiled more, that they hide less.

I really did ruin everything for them.

Once more that hideous feeling of guilt takes over me. Last time I felt this bad was when Mom caught me reading a book in the middle of the night, under the covers with a small flashlight. She had already asked me to stop with that. It was a bad habit. "Reading in the dark is bad for the eyes," she would say but I just couldn't wait until dawn to know how the stories would end. She didn't punish me when she found out the truth. They never punish me for anything.

And how I wish they would.

Instead of hitting me, of yelling and being mean, which is exactly what I deserve, they look at me with those narrow eyes, as if they're having trouble recognizing me. But I can recognize the pain, the hurt that is for them to look at me. I see the looks they exchange, that silent prayer, that sublime moment of begging that never leads to anything.

Can't they see this is so much worse than being punished?

"Maybe every now and then won't make a difference," she said returning the book to me. And thus concluded my act of disobedience. Never again did I read during the late hours of the night. I just laid in bed staring at the pale ceiling trying to forget that look in my mother's face.

I don't know if I want to go.

Truth be told, it was everything I wanted. For the longest of times, it was everything I ever wanted. Before life changing, Dad and I would talk about it all the time. He would tell me of his adventures and I would wish to live something alike. I've dreamt of the castle, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, and the friends I would make and all the fun we would have. And then everything changed.

I got used to being hid. I don't know if I can live with other kids. What if they don't accept me? What if they can see? What if they guess? They'll hate me. They'll look at me in that same way I look at myself when I pass by the bathroom mirror. Oh, I've already asked Mom to take that away. She removed all the other mirrors from the house, why not that one?

"Something wrong, Roma?" Dad asks me suddenly.

How can I begin to explain? How to make him see that I'm afraid to be alone, stuck in a dorm room with a bunch of other kids? What if something goes wrong? There'll be no one there to jinx me during the nights of the full moon. There'll be no one to hug me afterwards, to mend my wounds and say they love me even with this curse running through my veins.

I don't want to be anymore alone than I already am. Here is the only two people I know, the ones I get to know, and I'm leaving them behind, I'm going to be without them.

I see my Mom shake her head, her blond locks dancing around her beautiful face. "She was always like this, Lyall. Never admits what she feels. How are we to help you if you won't say what's wrong, Roma?"

I can't answer that either. She's right: I don't know how to express myself. But maybe that's not all my fault since the two only people I ever talk to is them. They never cared about my lack of something to say. I suspect they prefer like this. We ignore the problems so we don't have to deal with them. It makes it easier. And, boy, do we need something easy.

Mom opens her purse and pulls out her makeup kit. She knees in front of me and starts covering my face with her products. I know she's trying to help, but that only makes me want to cry. It's been such a long time since I last saw my own face. Can it be this bad?

"There you go," she says. "Pretty as a rosebud." She kisses my forehead. "It'll all be fine, sweetie." But there is not conviction in her voice.

With a last goodbye, she lets me go.

Dad takes me to King's Cross Station and we cross the barrier together. I don't care about the fun of the process. I understand how it goes. I get how magic works. What makes me tick is the fear dancing in my intestines mercilessly, almost making me bend over to vomit.

There are people here. A whole lot.

Smoke from the engine drifts over the heads of the chattering crowd. There are parents trying to catch up with their children. Cats of every color trying to escape their owners. Owls hooting to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. Families saying goodbye. Everything going normal, under the circumstances.

Dad guides me through the crowd. He is nervous, afraid someone from work might recognize him. We push my truck off together down the platform in search of an empty seat. When we find it, he helps me lift it and shove it inside the train. Then he gives me one last hug.

"It's all I've ever wanted, ya know?" he murmurs. I know. I've always known that his biggest disappointment was not seeing me go to Hogwarts. Yet, here we are. "Listen to your mother, Roma. It'll all be fine." He says it faintly, but in a way I can believe. My Dad is like that, an exact mirror of my own feelings.

"Bye, dad."

He gets out of the train and walks away before anyone can ask him questions. Doesn't matter. I get it. I sit down next to the window where, half hidden, I can watch the other families on the platform and hear what they were saying. The normal families. The ones that work. I see mothers crying and waving. I see fathers, eyes glowing with pride. Little siblings dying of envy. All as it should be.

One woman in particular draws my attention. She is beautiful with black hair and large eyes. She holds her husband's hand with ferocity as she waves to her son - someone I can't see. Then the train starts to move and she, half laughing, half crying, running desperately to keep up with the train until it gathers too much speed and she falls back.

I watch her until she disappears as the train rounds the corner. Houses flash past the window. Only then do I feel that great leap of excitement. I don't know where I'm going or what I'll find when I arrive there, but life, surely, as it goes forward, will only get better.

I have faith.