This is a chapter I wrote when I was beginning 6th grade and I was bored. Sorry if its crappy, but I wanted to see if I should try to continue it or not.

Chapter 1: The Platform

Narcissa sniffled as she hugged me tightly, her tears soaking my white T-shirt. "Be good, Hikari," she told me tearfully, brushing ringlets of hair out of my face that fell from my messy dyed-bright blue ponytail. I had to restrain rolling my eyes: My adopted mom, and my dad's cousin, really gets emotional and clingy.

To be nice, I nodded and said, "Sure, mom." Beside her, my adopted brother, Draco, two years younger than me, stuck his tongue out at me as he ran to find his little friends Vincent and Gregory. Personally, I thought they were really thick, even for nine-year-olds.

I kissed Narcissa's pale cheek and let her give me one last squeeze before I waved and ducked into the crowd of people moving through the train's steam. My black and silver trunk, which I was dragging behind me, rattled against the floor cobstones, mist swirling around, licking the soles of my light brown combat boots. People of all types hurried around, and the smell of cinnamon was for some reason strong in the air. The silver necklace intertwined with a pretty green snake, a birthday gift from Viktor, a childhood friend who I never see anymore but get occasional owls.

Lucius tried to raise us to be the whole "snotty Slytherin" types, and I daresay that he succeeded on Draco, but me? I'm a tough nut, and hard to convince to do the exact opposite of what I want. I know that Lucius is a former Death eater before the fall of Voldemort ("The Dark Lord!" Lucius always corrects me, but that sounds too Death-Eater–ish, and You-Know-Who so babyish, so I call him Voldemort. Or Moldywart when Lucius or Narcissa or Draco or any Dark-loving person that I'm around, which basically means I say it only when I'm by myself or with our house-elf, Dobby.

I like Dobby, he's a little odd, but so innocent. I almost always come to his aid and stop Lucius from beating him, but sometimes I'm not there. If I could, I would free him, give him a scarf or something, but Lucius would, for the first time since he exploded at me for calling Voldemort "Moldywart" accidentally right in front of him. I try to heal my little house-elf, though.

I almost ran into somebody who was bent over. I stopped myself in time, but unfortunately, my trunk banged into his trunk, which fell over. "I'm so sorry!" I apologized, quickly grabbing the top and setting it right before he could do anything. "I'm so bloody clumsy—"

"It's okay!" the boy laughed care-freely (I wish my life was like that!), facing me. "No harm done, right?"

I noticed the details of him: brown eyes, the ginger hair, sort of worn-looking robes. He was definitely a Weasley: according to Lucius, Weasleys are purebloods who are great blood-traitors. Of course, I cared nothing of what my father says, who probably has pureblood-itis or something.

While I was looking at him, I'm sure he was inwardly raising an eyebrow about my blue hair and odd bright violet eyes.

"I'm Hikari Black," I introduce myself immediately, holding out a hand. The boy first didn't blink an eye at my surname—I guess kids didn't really know it.

"George Weasley," he said shaking my outstretched hand. Brilliant! It would infuriate Lucius so much if I was friends with the "blood-traitors". He seemed like a nice guy, so no problem being friends with him.

I glanced over his shoulder, where I spotted five scattered red-heads. They were all tall, so easy to see. That was exactly the opposite of me, I was so small and pixie-like, but I was stronger than most people judged me at first due to my scrawny body.

"Your family?" I asked George, tilting my head at a plump, nice-looking woman talking to a small, cute girl, most likely her daughter because they had matching hair color that also paired with George's.

George frowned. "Don't act like that—"

I raised a thin eyebrow, my nose wrinkled, kind of confused, but also understanding a little bit at what he was implying I was doing. "Act like what? I was wondering if you were related because you have red hair."

"Oh." He nodded, satisfying me. My friendly side burst out of me again.

"Great! I want to meet them!" I said cheerfully, and I bounded up to them, George following me, still looking kind of wary, but I pretended not to notice. "Hi!" I said to his mum, my giant white hoop earrings dangling. The little girl looked curiously at my hair. "I'm Hikari Black, Mrs. Weasley. I just met your son, George."

The woman looked at me for a second with a cold look on her face (damn the adults for knowing so much!) then it lifted and she smiled warmly at me.

"Hello, Hikari. Well, it's lovely that George has made a new friend," she said, glancing at him. "I don't know how such a big prankster and his twin got accepted—"

"You have a twin?" I gasped to George. "No, wait, scratch that—you play pranks? I knew I made a great choice!"

George's little sister let out a short laugh, but her expression turned fearful when I looked at her. I crouched down so I was up to eye level with her so I wouldn't look intimidating or anything. Heck, I didn't know why I would, I was so short.

"Hi, I'm Hikari," I said softly. "What's your name, little sun?"

"I'm a daughter," she piped up. "Not a son." I laughed a little at her cute little frown and speech.

"Oh, no, not "son" as in a boy. "Sun", as in the big ball of light that comes up every day and goes down every night," I corrected her, twirling a strand of her dark red hair. A beautiful color. "You're such a bright little girl, like the sun. Being a boy would be yucky, right?" I wrinkled my nose playfully. "And it even matches with my name! 'Hikari' means 'light' in Japanese. Awesome, see, we were meant to meet!"

George's sister giggled, apparently relaxing with me. "I'm Ginny." I stood up and stretched my legs, which were going numb from crouching. Ugh, why were my chalky green tights so tight?

"Well, little sun, I can't wait until you come to Hogwarts three years later!"

I waved good bye to Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, who was smiling even brighter at me, and pushed my trunk out in front of me and head for the parked train. The hooting of owls and the sounds of other pets greeted me as I struggled to lift my heavy trunk from the platform floor to the train. George caught up with me, pushing his own trunk.

"How did you know that Ginny was eight?" he asked me, curious.

I grinned. "I have my ways. Now, what is this about being a prankster?" I asked, rubbing my hands, which had on black fingerless netted gloves. I bet anything my big violet eyes were glittering mischievously, the look that always immediately made teachers place me in the front seat of the class right in front of them. "I really need to find out how good you are to see if I found a worthy enough partner–in–crime."