I stared out the Hogwarts train window, watching the rain streak sideways across the glass. When the train had left London, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and sunshine had warmed the itchy seats in my compartment. The rain was alright with me, although I'd rather walk into Hogwarts for the first time with the sun shining.
Although I had had six hours to get over my nerves, I could still feel my stomach rolling with the anxiety of the Sorting Ceremony. Growing up in a wizarding home, I had heard tales of the arrogantly brave Gryffindors, the downright scary Slytherins, and way-more-intelligent-than-you Ravenclaws. My mother and father were born Hufflepuffs, as was my older brother, and it showed in everything we did at home. There was even a life-size mural of a badger in my living room. The Hopkins family had black and yellow in their veins.
But I had always known that I was the oddball of my family. I guess that made me the normal one, since I had a family of oddballs. Though they never mentioned it and always assumed I'd turn out like them, my parents always dropped hints about the possibility of me being sorted into a different house. I wondered just how I would tell my parents that perhaps the badger-adorned bedspread and the luminous yellow wallpaper wasn't for me if I was sorted into Gryffindor or something.
A boy, probably the same age as me, had curled up on the opposite seat at the beginning of the ride without a word and went right to sleep, after pushing his trunk into the baggage shelf. He had pin-straight dirty blonde hair and puffy cheeks, but that was all I could make out of his face, as the rest of it was jammed into the cushion. I wondered if he didn't know anyone on the train, or if he was simply weird. I didn't know if anyone knew anyone on the way to Hogwarts.
Just at that moment, the foggy compartment door slid open and a young girl popped her head in. Her tangled black hair swung past her shoulders, and she looked like a Gothic Rapunzel. "My sister kicked me out, and everywhere else is packed with people. Can I sit here?" Without waiting for an answer, she plopped down next to me and glanced, somewhat disdainfully, at the boy across from us. "Who is that?"
"No idea," I replied. My voiced cracked a bit from not being used for more than six hours. I cleared my throat. "My name's Ella Hopkins."
"I'm Zara Prounce." And with that, our conversation had dried up. I recommenced gazing out the window, now somewhat stressed, and she slid a book out of her pocket and buried her face in it. I snuck a look at the cover, and it said The Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. The same book was sitting at the bottom of my trunk, and I decided to take a risk and try to talk to her again.
"Are you reading that for class?" I asked. She nodded, not taking her eyes off the page. Then she looked up.
"My sister told me to try and read some of the material before my classes. I think they expect you to read up during the summer, but I couldn't be bothered until yesterday. The only thing I'm really interested in is Care of Magical Creatures. Nothing's more interesting than unicorns!" she finished passionately. I nodded, although I could think of a number of things that were more interesting than unicorns. Sandwiches, for example.
"I tried reading some of my Charms book, but it wasn't much fun without a wand. I just got mine today." I pulled my wand out of my pocket and showed her. "Fir with a phoenix core." She took hers out as well.
"Cherry with unicorn hair. Clary's is the same, but an inch longer and a bit more rigid, I think," she told me. "My sister's in Ravenclaw, like my mom. Everyone expects me to be in Ravenclaw, but I kind of hope I'll be in the same house as my dad. Slytherin," she added after seeing my questioning look.
"My whole family's in Hufflepuff," I told her. She wrinkled her nose ever so slightly.
"Clary's boyfriend is a Hufflepuff. He's snobby," Zara said. I laughed and nodded.
"So's my dad. He's so proud of his house, and he hasn't been a student at Hogwarts for nearly twenty years," I said. "I don't really know what house I want to be in. I don't know what I am."
An older boy pushed the door open and told us to put our robes on. He had neatly combed hair and a Gryffindor brooch pinned to his ironed black robes.
Zara disappeared into the corridor to get her trunk from her sister's compartment. I hurriedly pulled my robes on over my ratty jeans and sweater, aware of the sleeping boy on the bench. When Zara came back in, her trunk in one arm and a skinny black cat in the other, I gestured towards the boy.
"Should we wake him up?" I asked. She shrugged. The cat reached up to paw at her hair, and she dropped it.
"Jupiter, no!" Zara yelped, attempting to untangle the knot in her already messy hair. I subconsciously patted my own blonde locks.
The cat, Jupiter, jumped up to sit on the boy, and jerked awake. "Gahh!" I heard from the seat. Zara stopped raking her hair and swung around as the boy sat up. He rubbed his hands into his eyes and looked blearily up at us. "Hey," he said sheepishly. Zara raised her eyebrows.
"About time," she muttered, then continued pulling at her hair. I tried to smile kindly at him, but he was staring at his feet.
"I'm Ella," I said, sticking out my hand. He looked up and took it. His hand was clammy and pudgy.
"Anthony Bord," he replied, releasing my hand. I wiped it on my robes, thinking of how nervous he must be for the sorting.
The train began to steadily slow, until it screeched to a halt. I could see the moon through the rain-streaked window, the same as the one at home. Suddenly, I wasn't nervous at all.
Zara picked up her cat and her trunk again and looked over her shoulder at me and the boy who now had a name. "Ready?" she asked. I nodded, heaving my trunk down from the shelf at the same time as Anthony. We joined the crowd of people shoving past to the doors and finally escaped out into the cold, clear air. I may have been imagining it, but it almost smelled like magic.