Chapter One: 9 3/4
"Hurry it up, Kitty! We are going to be late, and if it's your fault, I swear…"
I hear Estelle's sharp voice threatening me from the other side of the door. She is nervous, I know, because of pessimistic expectations for the day; otherwise she would be kinder with her words. But only a little. She has always been a loud, slightly harsh, person, increasingly this past year. I believe she is passing through some sort of phase, which she will overcome and then the two of us will draw close again. She seems so distant as of late…
"I'm coming, Estelle! Just let me lace up this boot," I tell her, fumbling with the laces and trying not to break off my fingernails. I had not noticed before how long they have become. I shall be sure to trim them as soon as I can, perhaps while on the train…
"Girls, get down here! We have fifteen minutes to reach King's Cross Station!" Mum's call reaches me as I swing open my bedroom door, hauling my suitcase and the cage for my new cat behind me.
The tall, dark-haired woman stands at the foot of the marble staircase, tapping her foot impatiently on the floor, causing the large foyer to echo with the clicking sound. I think how Estelle looks so much like her, while I appear to be completely unrelated to them both. I wonder again, as I have several times lately while I am alone, if I really am her daughter. It is a ridiculous thought, and I have no clue as to its' origin, but I think it all the same.
Mum glances down at her silver wristwatch and sighs. There is no time to drive, and certainly not enough to walk; we shall have to use the alternate mode of transportation. "Hurry, girls!" she snaps as we pound down the stairs, banging our suitcases on the hard marble surface. "And be careful with those."
"Sorry, Mum," Estelle apologizes, somewhat insincerely.
We wait for Mum to lock the front door to our old-fashioned mansion with the large brass key, and watch as she stuffs the key into the deep pocket of her dress. She turns and, finding us still there, shoos us down the walkway, around the side of the house. There is a sort of shed, masked partly by tall oak trees, which we had never been allowed to enter until earlier this summer.
Mum pulls a thin stick-her wand, beech and unicorn-tail hair, 8 3/4"- from her sleeve and points it at the door, which promptly unlocks and opens up. She pushes us inside and walks over to one of the winged, skeletal, equine creatures that live in this shed. She strokes the dragonish face and long black mane, before moving to mount the beast. Mum told me they are called Thestrals, but that is about all I know of them at this point.
"Mum, are you sure it's all right for us to ride them? Does is not bother them?" I ask. I set my things down and step towards the second animal, placing one hand on its head. It blinks its blank white, shining eyes.
"Of course, Kat," Mum replies, motioning for us to mount as well. She pats her Thestral's neck, and it begins to walk forward slowly.
I pull myself up onto my Thestral's back with a little difficulty, grabbing my suitcase and cage from the ground, and then follow Mum outside. I turn my head to teasingly say, "Oh, Estelle. It won't bite you."
Estelle pauses, lifting an eyebrow and sizing up the last Thestral suspiciously with her dark teal eyes. I can tell she is recalling the feeling of being thrown off of this creature once before, when she had attempted to ride it without permission. She blows a strand of jet black hair away from her eye -the same part which always slips down into her face- and lifts her leg to swing it over the Thestral's back. It starts to move forward, and she clutches its mane tightly.
"Are you scared of it?" I ask, trying to keep a straight face at the memory of Estelle lying in the grass in the middle of the night after I had come outside to investigate the screams that had reached all the way up to my bedroom in the back of the house.
"No, of course not," Estelle snaps, her cheeks flushing. She snatches her suitcase and the cage for her own cat and holds them carefully while still keeping a death-grip on the mane.
"Come on, girls. We're wasting time," Mum says as her Thestral begins beating its wings and lifting into the air.
I look to Estelle as we rise, and smile. "We're off to Platform 9 3/4… And Hogwarts!"
"Now, stick together, and try to be nice to the others, and try not to cause too much trouble, and try to…" Mum stops and glances at her watch again. "Oh, you know what to do. Go along now, loves. I will write to you soon." She kisses Estelle's forehead, and then mine, before handing us our cats, Lyric and Stella Rose. Then she stands there, gazing at us and smiling.
I clear my throat, and Estelle jerks her head towards the Thestrals, which are becoming impatient and pawing the ground. They do not like being so close to all the noise and people, I am sure. Right now we are standing just outside the station, seeing as the sight of big skeletal horses would frighten most Muggles, as Mum tells us non-magical beings are called.
Mum nods, gives my shoulder a tight squeeze with an "I love you Kat," and then turns to tend to the Thestrals. We do not have time to watch her fly away, because there are only a few minutes before the train will leave. One thing I should mention here, is that my real name is Katrinia, my sister calls me Kitty, and my Mum usually calls me Kat, or one of the other two on occasion. However, Kitty is sort of reserved for my sister, as she thought it up when we were younger. Moving on...
We enter the station and move down the platforms, searching for 9 and 10. Mum told us that our platform, 9 3/4, is located just between them, invisible to the Muggles. It took some convincing on her part when we looked at our tickets, but after we believed what she informed us of at the start of the summer, Estelle and I will accept nearly anything.
You see, Estelle and I, and Mum as well, are witches. Male magical beings are called wizards. We received letters that announced we had been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which came as quite a shock after being raised as Muggles. Mum still has not been clear on why she hid this information from us. After all, we are not Muggleborns, like some-those with no magical parents- but Purebloods, descended from witches and wizards all the way. I do not see what it matters whether you are Muggleborn, or Half-blood, or what.
Anyway, now that we are eleven, we will be first years at this school of magic, where we will learn spells, and potions, and be with others just like us. Estelle and I have never been around many people, another subject Mum avoids...
"Look at them over there," Estelle interrupts my thoughts, pointing to a family-four boys, a girl, and their mother- all with flaming red hair. "Do you suppose they're going to the same place as us?"
"Possibly," I reply, looking them up and down and trying not to be obvious about it. "Probably, judging from the owl. And they have carts. Where do you suppose they found those? Oh, never mind. Mum already told us how to get through. You just walk straight through."
Estelle purses her lips. "I think we should wait and watch those people."
Another boy pushes his cart behind him and seems to be watching and listening like us. He has dark hair, glasses, and striking green eyes, and he looks a bit lost, probably a first year like us.
I pull Estelle closer as the red-haired mother tells the small girl, "You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."
The oldest-looking boy steps forward and vanishes into the barrier, followed by the twins, after a little name confusion with the mother- the first was Fred and the second was George, although I probably would not remember that later on.
The black-haired boy steps up now and asks for assistance. Estelle figures we should do the same, but I feel like I see what to do now, and I am honestly frightened of just walking up and talking to a stranger. Before Estelle can protest, I push through the barrier and instantly find myself looking at a scarlet steam engine.
Estelle must have hesitated, because it is a minute or so before she follows. Actually, the boy with glasses comes through first and looks around in amazement. I watch him push his cart down the platform, and then spot a sign overhead reading Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. The last red-headed boy comes through behind me, with his mother and sister.
I begin to worry about Estelle and consider turning back to find her, when she nearly knocks me over. "Sorry," she gasps. "I got a bit of a running start. I was afraid you might have left me."
"Then why didn't you come through right after me?" I roll my eyes and start after the red-heads, who definitely know where they are going. It seems that most of the compartments are already filled, or at least half-filled, with people I have never met. Of course, I knew I would have to choose to sit with someone, but it still turns my stomach. However, these people seem nice enough and perhaps we can sit with them.
They have stopped and are speaking together, so I hold back, not wanting to eavesdrop but feeling curious just the same. Estelle seems to be particularly interested in one of the twins. George, I think. Or is it Fred? Oh well. She obviously prefers one over the other.
"Now, you two-this year, you behave yourselves," the mother tells the twins. "If I get one more owl telling me you've-you've blown up a toilet or-"
"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet," one of them interjects.
"Great idea though, thanks, Mum," the other adds.
I notice a hint of a smile on the edge of Estelle's lips and lean close to her ear. "Fancy someone already, do you, Estelle?"
"What? Oh, shut up, Kitty! I am sure that you will find some boy yourself soon enough." Estelle rests her cat's cage on her suitcase and gives me a slight smirk.
"I highly doubt that," I retort, setting Stella Rose's cage down as well so I can cross my arms over my chest. "I would actually get to know a person first before I started gazing at them with stars in my eyes."
"What?" she asks incredulously again. "I do not have stars in my eyes. How could you say that? I don't give a flipping feather duster for that George whatever-his-last-name-is, and…" Her eyes flick over to said person and find him boarding the train. She snatches up her things and hisses, "We have to sit with them. Do not mess this up for me!"
I see the sister, Ginny, begin to cry. One of the boys says, "Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."
The other adds, "We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."
"George!" the mother snaps.
"Only joking, Mum."
I realize now that the train is about to move and push Estelle clumsily on board before we are left behind. We scramble up, which is quite an accomplishment, I must say. Estelle looks both ways and turns right, looking into the compartments.
The youngest red-haired boy stops ahead of us and enters a compartment. I wonder if there's still room in that one, but Estelle is set on finding the twins. There does not appear to be much room left, so she might have to settle for someone else, as long as we have seats.
"You know, if we had gotten here sooner, we could have found a seat," I say, rolling my eyes again.
"You were the one who spent so long in the bath this morning," Estelle replies, peering into a compartment where a girl with bushy brown hair was seated, already in her Hogwarts robes. Suddenly, she jerks forward, speed-walking down the corridor.
I notice the twins up ahead and follow in annoyance, deciding to return to that girl's compartment if this proves unsuccessful.
"Harry," one of the boys says, " did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then." He slides the door closed and whips around, colliding with Estelle.
She very nearly drops Lyric's cage and stares at him, with those stars in her eyes again.
"Hey, watch where you're going, darlin'. Ah, eavesdropping, are we now?" He grinned and winked.
Estelle clearly cannot find words to respond. She manages a smile. Lyric meows loudly, and Estelle's face flushes a dark pink.
He grins again and holds out his hand. "My name's George. George Weasley." Estelle shakily takes his hand, and he lifts it to his lips, planting a gentle kiss on her fair skin. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance…" He pauses for her name.
"Estelle," she chokes out, her head bowed in embarrassed pleasure. "Estelle Blair," she blurts out louder.
"A lovely name for a lovely lady," George says with another wink.
I now realize that I have been staring openly at the two of them and turn my gaze to the other twin, Fred, who has apparently been watching me. He holds out his hand, trying to match George's suave manner. I take it and allow him to kiss my hand, while he keeps his eyes locked on mine with an odd intensity. "Fred Weasley, milady."
"Katrinia Blair," I introduce myself. "But you may call me Kat, my kind sir."
"Ah, yes, I believe I shall." He turns to my cat, his hand still clasping mine. "And who do we have here?"
"This is Lady Stella Rose. But we just call her Rose for short, most of the time." I open her cage and pull her out to show her off. She is a golden-brown tortoiseshell with sparkling indigo eyes, nearly identical to mine.
Fred strokes her fur and scratches her ears. Rose purrs and arches her back in delight. Fred pauses for permission, and I place Rose in his arms. He continues rubbing her from head to tail, while I turn my attention back to my sister and her new love.
Apparently they have wandered off somewhere- to be alone, most likely- because Fred and I are the only ones standing outside the compartment now. This situation surprises me. I really was not expecting to be away from Estelle on the very first day. I had thought that we would stick together, perhaps seem a bit standoffish at first, and then ease our way into things. Now here I am alone with some boy who really likes my cat.
I clear my throat, and he glances up. "Should we maybe find a compartment?" I bite my lip. "Or is that too straightforward. I mean, we've only just met. You certainly don't have to sit with me if you don't want to. I wasn't implying that at all. I just thought…"
"Well, of course I shall sit with you," Fred replies, handing Rose back to me carefully. "I don't plan on letting you out of my sight, milady. There are all sorts of ruffian and hoodlum about, and I certainly would not want you to run into trouble."
"So, you're going to protect me? How kind of you. You might as well carry my things as well," I tell him, locking Rose's cage and setting it in his hands. I place the suitcase at his feet, too.
Fred nods and follows me down the corridor obediently. I hold in a laugh. "Where did you leave your bags?" I ask over my shoulder.
"Oh, they're somewhere around here. But I think it was already full, so we'll just find you a place to sit, and I'll go back for my stuff later on. Actually, this kid, Lee Jordan, he's got a tarantula further on down there. I was kind of wanting to go check it out. Would you want to come with me?" Fred looks at me rather sheepishly. One would think he had just asked me to have dinner with him or something.
"Maybe, yeah. Just let me settle down first. How about in here?" I gesture to the compartment where I remember seeing the bushy-haired girl. She is not in there now, but then I see her standing in the door of the next one down with a round-faced boy.
She slides the door shut and turns to me. "Have you seen a toad about? Neville here has lost his."
"Oh, no, sorry," I tell her, truly regretful for the boy Neville seems very upset by it. "I'll be sure to let you know if I find him," I assure the boy, who gives me a grateful, shy smile. I place my hand on the girl's shoulder as she moves to walk past me. "I was just wondering, I saw you sitting in this compartment. Is there anyone else in there? I need a place to sit."
She almost seems surprised that I would want to sit with her. "Why, of course. Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back once I find Neville's toad."
"Right. Thanks, er…"
"Hermione. Hermione Granger." She gives a little bob of her head and leads Neville away.
"I'm Neville Longbottom," he says quietly before he walks away. I smile, and he ducks his head down. He seems very shy, but it's sweet, in my opinion.
I see that Fred has already placed my things in the corner, and he holds out his arm, for me to grasp, I assume. I look back at Hermione and Neville, wondering if I should help them search for the missing toad, as I hook my arm through Fred's. I decide that I will come back after Fred sees this tarantula. I hate spiders, so hopefully just a quick glance will satisfy him.
As we walk along-arm in arm like a couple-another compartment door opens and three boys step out. It seems that no one actually stays in their compartments on the way to Hogwarts. I suppose there are too many interesting people and things about to sit quietly and look out the window, which was what I had planned on doing most of the way.
One boy catches my attention, and I halt. He has white-blond hair, a pale pointed face, and thin lips curled up in a sort of permanent smirk. He seems rather arrogant to me, with two bigger, brutish boys following behind him like bodyguards. He focuses his piercing gray eyes on me and in a blink looks me up and down, probably expecting me to not notice, but I do. Apparently satisfied with me, he holds his hands up for his companions to stop.
"There've been some rumors going about, that Harry Potter is on the train," he says in a drawling voice. "Have you seen him, then?"
I frown, vaguely recognizing the name-probably Mum mentioned it-but I am not sure if I have actually seen him or not. Fred grins and drops my arm.
"Yeah, I spoke with him, helped him put his trunk in his compartment," Fred tells him proudly. "He's right down there," Fred points out the compartment, "with my little brother, Ron."
"Right. I'd like to have a word with him," the boy says, still eyeing me, I can tell.
"Oh, you'd like to have a word," Fred says in a pompous voice, with a wink in my direction. "Are you the Malfoy boy?"
The Malfoy boy clears his throat and straightens his robes-I wonder if I should have mine on already-before replying, "Yes. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." The way the name rolls of his tongue almost makes we want to slap him, it irritates me so. Nonetheless, I cannot help but be greatly intrigued by this boy, whose name sounds terribly romantic to me, like something out of my favorite fairy tail books.
"Right. Well, Master Malfoy. Be on your way." Fred leads me past them, gesturing in an overdramatic manner. "I am taking my fair lady to view Sir Jordan's tarantula."
I have just adjusted my Hogwarts robes on my shoulders when Hermione slides open the compartment door and enters. She looks me over and appears to approve, giving me a friendly smile. She sits opposite me, smoothing out her own robes. "I don't believe I asked your name. How rude of me."
"Oh, it's Katrinia Blair," I tell her apologetically. "But you may call me Kat. Or, if you wish, and you think we could be great friends… you can call me Kitty."
Hermione seems please by the great friends prospect."That's an interesting, taking Kitty from Katrinia. How did it come about?"
"Well, my sister, Estelle, couldn't manage my name when she was little," I explain. "She would call me Kat usually, but there was this one time when I had been in another room for a long time for whatever reason. Estelle got really freaked out and started screaming for Kitty. Mum likes to tell us the story. She shouted, 'I want my Kitty! Where's my Kitty Kat?' And Kitty just kind of stuck." I laugh, thinking how much we used to depend on each other. Estelle and I have become sort of distant lately, and I wonder if we have perhaps had too much of one another.
"It's a pretty special thing, though, and Estelle is really the only one who's ever used it, so I'd appreciate it if you call me Katrinia or Kat around other people," I add awkwardly, knowing it is sort of strange to have name-calling restrictions. It is probably weird that I am sharing my "secret" name with an almost stranger, but it feels right to me.
"So do you call your sister something special?" Hermione wonders with a laugh.
"I could always pronounce her name, although it came out sort of broken up, like Es….telle. Somehow I don't think she would appreciate a nickname these days. She can get a little edgy about certain things," I say, wondering where the person of interest is right now. I hope to find her again before we go inside Hogwarts. I will feel much better during the sorting with her by my side, although this Hermione seems to be my first new friend and perhaps I will not have to depend on my sister the whole time.
"We'll be there soon, you know," Hermione tells me, in her matter-of-fact voice, which I have decided is not a sign of arrogance but rather shows that this girl truly knows her stuff. "I asked the conductor."
"Well, you're very on top of things, aren't you, Hermione? I think you're a good person to have around."
She blushes at the compliment, and I can tell that she already values my friendship. "I just like to know what's going on and what I'm supposed to do, where I'm supposed to be. I did a lot of research before I came- Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, Hogwarts: A History- so that I would know everything I need to. I'm Muggleborn, you see." Her face flushes even more at this, and I can see that she is awaiting a reaction from me, hoping for a positive one.
"Oh, really! Wow, I'm sure all that reading really caught you up to everyone else," I tell her, quite impressed and wondering why I had not taken time to read more of Mum's books before I came. I only skimmed through the required reading for this school year. "I don't even have that much information."
"Are you Muggleborn as well?"
"No… But Mum raised us as such for some reason she has yet to give. I had no idea I was a witch until I received my acceptance letter. It was quite a shock, as I'm sure it was for you, too. Especially when Estelle and I learned we were pureblooded witches who have had all sorts of magical family members. We've never met any of them-"
I am cut off by an announcer's voice. " We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train. It will be taken to the school separately."
"Well, I guess we'd better prepare to get off, then," I say, standing up. "We can finish talking later."
Hermione smiles and opens the door.