The land seemed to fly past at a dizzying pace; often times making one of the many teens watching it sick, forcing her to look away and around the empty compartment in which she was sitting. When she could bear to watch the scenery flying by, it constantly changed from mountains to plains and, eventually, to a deep green forest that seemed to dominate much of the land the train traveled through. The girl in the last compartment watched it all slip past, trying to deny the very fact that she was on the train at all. It wasn't working.
She had chosen this compartment purposefully; it had been the last empty compartment on the train, and she had no intentions of sitting with groups of others chatting away about things she had no interest in: such as the first years who were gossiping about what it would be like when they arrived. Even the idea of sitting with the older students, most of who were either gossiping about who the new Defense teacher would be or who had won the Quidditch World Cup, made her sick. Just thinking about Quidditch at all made her miss her best friend even more. They should have been the ones discussing the World Cup together, sitting on the couch arguing about what the best play had been while Kaiser grumbled about 'annoying youths' in the kitchen.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she sighed and traced her finger in a pattern on the window, thinking about where she was headed, where the train was bringing her; to a new life, in a new country, and with new people. Withdrawing her finger, she ran her hands through her black hair and to her disgust, discovered it was starting to get greasy again despite the fact that she had washed it just that morning. While she had inherited her father's thick and full head of hair, she has likewise inherited from her mother hair that became greasy less than twenty-four hours after being washed.
Taking a shaky breath, she closed her eyes and made a wish: one that she seemed to be making at least once every day since she had arrived in Britain. The girl wished, not for the first time, that she was back in her home, her haven with her friends, and with the people she had come to rely upon, but of course that was unlikely. It didn't stop her from wishing for the impossible though: wishing that she was anywhere but on this train that was bring her closer to the foreboding place, the castle, the school and, most of all, what seemed to her, the prison known as Hogwart's.