Author's Note; So, this is my first ever HP fanfic. I won't ask you to be gentle, but, you know, remember I have feelings, okay? I don't have much else to say, I just hope you enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think!

Disclaimer; Harry Potter, in its entirety, belongs to JK Rowling. I claim no ownership.

Well, it's a big, big city and it's always the same
Can never be too pretty, tell me your name
Is it out of line if I were simply bold to say,
"Would you be mine?"
Whistle for the Choir ; The Fratellis

My entire body felt like it was being torn apart. My chest was tight and, even though my eyes were squeezed shut, I could still feel myself being tossed and turned every which way. My stomach was heavy as if I'd drunk too much Firewhiskey. I wasn't strong enough for this. London was too far to apparate to, I'd told my mother. I was still underage; I'd only just learned how to do this. The Ministry of Magic would have my head if they were to find out. But she'd been adamant. Floo powder was risky. One mispronunciation and I could end up anywhere, fall into anyone's fireplace. Plane rides were too muggle, too lengthy. They could be tracked, crashed. It had to be apparation. I had to apparate.

When I finally landed – hard – on what I hoped was the outskirts of London, I could feel the small trickle of sticky red blood down my leg. Splinched, but I had made it. I could tell just by looking up at the sky that this wasn't my Salem. It never would be. It wasn't safe there. I would never curl up in my dorm again, eating chocolate frogs with Alexis and Desirae. I would never attend another of our Quidditch games or sneak off campus to take the train to Boston to see the Pesky Pixies play a live, underground show. I would not attend the Halloween ball this year with Xander, as I'd promised. And he'd never know why I'd left or where I'd gone.

For the last 5 years, I'd been kept in the dark about exactly who I was. It had made it easier to stay under the radar. My magic may have started up, but I had been kept very well hidden throughout all these years at the Salem Institute of Magic. But curiosity had gotten the better of me, as it always did, and I ruined years of work and careful planning.

He'd found me. Found out about me.

And now I had to run.

x x x

I'd officially succeeded in catching the attention of nearly every passer-by in King's Cross Station. Which is quite a feat, let me tell you. You would think a train station that was ignorant to flocks of people disappearing into a brick wall would be less observant. Nevertheless, they'd all seen my graceful journey to the ground with my trunk landing beside me, spilling all sorts of knickknacks, followed by a particularly loud screech from an airborne cat carrier. Nonchalance is definitely my thing right now.

After dusting myself off and tossing my things back into the trunk, I eyed it warily. It looked unbelievably heavy and the idea of lifting it onto the cart was grotesquely unappealing. I bent over to embarrass myself all over again then shot back up, suddenly remembering my cat's short cameo as a pilot. The masses had moved on from my humiliation and were now shuffling loudly about the platform, blocking my view as I searched the crowds for the cat carrier.

"Pandora!" My voice faded in among the chatter and footsteps and I frowned. She was still small – she'd be crushed if she'd fallen out of the carrier. Who had allowed me, irresponsible and reckless, to assume care for a living, breathing creature? On only the first day, I had managed to trip and lose Pandora. What a bad omen this school was turning out to be.

A high-pitched and very familiar "Mew" broke me from my negativity. I smiled, perking up as I turned toward the sound.

"I assume this belongs to you?"

I rushed forward and gathered Pandora into my arms, nuzzling my nose into her head as she purred. She'd been a stray when I'd found her, malnourished and wandering London back alleys. A Siamese-looking cat with creamy white fur and dark brown smudges on her face and paws as if she'd trailed through a batch of brownie mix and then attempted to wipe the batter off on her face. She was overwhelmingly fluffy (I suspected her of being part Persian) with wide, cross-eyed bright blue eyes. She was gorgeous and the smug bastard knew it. A cat like her had not belonged on the street.

Far later than I probably should have, I lifted my head to thank the stranger who'd found Pandora and brought her back to me. I was pleasantly surprised. A tall, lanky boy stood before me with unkempt brown hair and dark eyes. He bordered on skinny, but compensated with toned, strong-looking muscles. There were bags under his eyes as if he'd recently had trouble sleeping and, for some reason, I felt a brief pang of concern for his well-being. I noticed his amused smile and commonsense reminded me of just how blatantly I'd been checking him out. Red burned my cheeks and I bit my lip by way of apologizing.

"Thank you," I finally managed to say, cuddling Pandora to my chest. His eyes appraised me and I realized he was giving me a similar once-over to the one I'd given him. My body went slightly rigid though, damn it, I was trying to be relaxed. I couldn't help but wish I'd straightened my hair out as my blonde curls were probably looking more wild than smooth after my fall. I was, however, satisfied with my white lace sundress that just grazed my mid-thigh. It managed to make me look curvier and tanner than I actually am. I glanced down at my feet, admiring my new moccasins, before deciding the silence had stretched on long enough. "I'm still trying to get used to your damned English cobblestones."

The boy laughed lightly and extended his hand for me to shake. "Remus Lupin."

"Pippa Moore." I took his hand carefully, now recognizing a problem. Was I expected to further this interaction? I had a train to catch and, if I missed it, there was nowhere for me to go. And what if this boy – Remus – offered to walk me to my platform? Platform 9 ¾ doesn't exist to muggles! And what kind of a name was Remus, anyway? Without being asked, he wandered over to my cart and lifted the trunk onto it. I would have been relieved if not for the fact that I needed to get rid of Prince Charming over here. "No need for the gentlemen act, Remus." I said airily, trying to keep my tone light and playful. "I've got my cart from here."

"It's the trolley I was helping," he started, his accent making me melt. English boys were not good for my concentration. Hogwarts here I come, right? "I had to save it from taking another nose dive into our 'damned English cobblestones'." He attempted to mimic my American accent. It was so adorable I forgot I was meant to be ditching him. "So you're a transfer?"

I blinked at him. Did he think I was going to his posh little British muggle school? Oh boy, how did I get out of this? "Excuse me?"

It was the best strategy I had – buy more time in an attempt to come up with a better strategy than playing dumb. But the poor kid looked panicked.

"Oh, bloody hell," he cursed, covering his eyes with his hand. "Don't tell me you've been at Hogwarts this whole time and I've never-"

"OH!" I interrupted, relief flooding my body. I held up my hand to stop his ramblings and laughed. So Remus here was a wizard, too. "Hogwarts, of course! I'm a transfer from the Salem Institute."

"Salem, really?" He nodded, at ease once more. He gave me a friendly smile. "And what brought you here?"

My expression darkened. The question was casual enough, but the answer was not something I wanted – or even could – share with this random wizard boy. I opened my mouth to use my excellent excuse-making skills and come up with something, anything, to get away from this topic when I was saved by a voice calling over the crowd.

"Oi, Moony!" A boy emerged, pushing roughly through bands of people to reach Remus (Moony?). He had a youthful and confident look to him. His dark, nearly black, hair fell over his hazel eyes in a haircut you just knew his mother hated. It was messy and long, but only seemed to compliment his goofy grin. He was built like an athlete. From prior knowledge, I could just tell he was a Quidditch player. Chaser, most likely. He looked like he could fly fast. He enveloped Remus into a hug fit for brothers and I shifted awkwardly, unsure whether to leave or not. As I moved to collect my cart, James's eyes caught mine and he released Remus.

"James, this is Pippa Moore. Pippa, James Potter." Remus used all the appropriate hand gestures and his polite smile made me think this may be the most legitimate introduction I'd ever had. "She's a transfer from the Salem Institute."

"Salem as in… America?" James said slowly. The way he crinkled his nose made it seem like a bad thing.

"Is that where that is? And all these years I've been thinking I was Canadian, eh?" I snipped, eyes narrowed. If this boy made one joke about being American, I'd remove his tongue. It was a rather simple spell, after all.

"Oh, Sirius is going to love you!" James beamed, to my surprise. He looked to Remus excitedly but the emotion didn't seem to be reciprocated.

"Where is Padfoot, anyway?" Remus asked, subtly changing the subject. I, however, was still concerned about this Sirius person and why Yenta over here was already plotting our love affair.

"Hm? Oh, the tosser's probably still with my mum and dad. He didn't have someone to push his trolley for him." James grinned triumphantly, as if his parents pushing his cart for him was something to be proud of.

"Are you and Sirius brothers?" I asked, half out of politeness and half out of curiosity. This seemed to be a very tight knit group.

Remus answered "No" at the same time that James answered "Yes". I didn't bother to hide my confusion, raising an eyebrow at the pair. Remus gave the other boy a look and James pouted.

"Well, we might as well be," he amended.

As if to prove this point, a cart came crashing into James's side and he toppled over, landing hard on the ground as I had earlier.

"That's for being such a bloody wanker!" The assailant cried angrily, running a hand through his hair.

I, on the other hand, was frozen to my spot – seriously rooted there as if I'd sprouted branches and planted myself right into the cobblestone. The boy before me (Sirius, I presumed) was by far one of the most attractive I'd ever seen. His appeal wasn't unconventional, like Remus's, or boyish like James's. It was in-your-face and unignorable. His hair was raven black and appeared soft to the touch. He had that lust-worthy "V"-shaped body and I just knew that, if I were to play a game of peek-a-boo with the hem of his shirt, I'd find a nice set of abs staring back at me. His steel gray eyes were fixed on me when I found them and they flickered mischievously, daring me to be the one to look away first.

"Well, hello, love," He practically purred. A cocky smirk fixed onto his face and I pursed my lips, instantly turned off. Why were all the pretty ones so deluded? "What's your name?"

I scoffed. "Don't worry about it."

James, who had finally gotten himself up off the ground, almost collapsed back onto it again in laughter. Even Remus produced a chuckle. Sirius, however, did not seem to appreciate the reality check. I turned my gaze away from him and back to Remus, who still had my cart. I walked over to him and pulled the cart in my direction.

"I should get to my compartment," I told him and he smiled knowingly.

"Share ours!" James cried, out of breath from his fit.

"You're a Hogwarts student?" Sirius practically choked. He still hadn't restored his confidence. I gave him a mocking look.

"Sure am, love," I cooed, facing James and flashing him a brilliant smile. "And I'd love to share a compartment with you boys."

x x x

The boys were, apparently, something of celebrities at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. Remus told me they called themselves "The Marauders", to which I replied that, in America at least, naming yourselves after a group of outlaws would get you beaten up, not praised. Besides, it was a cocky thing to do. My fellow witches of Hogwarts didn't seem to share that sentiment. We could hardly make it down the corridor with all of the people merging from their compartments to say hello. Girls were flipping their hair and batting their eyelashes. It was more pathetic than amusing and Remus's expression told me he felt the same way. James and Sirius, however, ate it up

We finally fell into a compartment all the way in the back and I sighed.

"Merlin, could they get any more desperate?" I laughed, settling into a seat by the window and allowing Pandora to curl up on my lap. Remus smiled at my comment and took the seat beside me, leaving the other two to sit across from us.

"What, people don't shag in America?" Sirius asked, his eyes innocent but his tone so condescending I could almost taste it. I pursed my lips, annoyed.

Leaving Salem had not been what I'd wanted. I'd spent most of my life there and it was home, it was all I knew. I'd had friends there, one's I trusted. Everyone had known about my blood status and they'd all, for the most part, accepted it. Okay, Veela, no big deal. I was just another wizard. Now, at Hogwarts, I'd have to redefine myself all over again. Defend myself all over again. Prove I am not just my blonde hair and blue eyes – I'm a witch. And a damn powerful one at that; but the thought of where that power came from was enough to make my blood boil.

"Well, there you are, Pippa!" cried a girl from the doorway. I stared blankly at her pretty red hair and freckles for a good minute before mentally confirming that, no, I definitely did not know this girl.

"Here I am?" I said hesitantly, eyeing the boys. Judging from the various expressions on their faces, they certainly seemed to know her.

"Lily Evans, Gryffindor Prefect," she nodded proudly, wedging herself in between Remus and myself. I spared her an incredulous look, but she paid it no mind. "Dumbledore asked me to make sure you were settled."

Dumbledore – a name I was familiar with, considering he was essentially saving my life. Transfers among Wizarding schools were extremely rare and not entirely easy to get approved. Dumbledore, however, was quick to make an arrangement, according to my mother. He knew very well who I was, but had done everything necessary to get me here – including covering my ass after the apparation incident. I had yet to meet him and the man was already my hero.

Nevertheless, I couldn't grasp why he'd send a Gryffindor Prefect to check on me. I had yet to be sorted, but…

The compartment door opened once more, interrupting my thoughts, and a short, rat-faced boy entered. He was awkward yet mildly adorable looking – like a little boy you instinctively wanted to help. His moody expression, however, chased the warm, maternal feeling away.

"Peter!" James smiled, standing up to clap him on the back. Peter gave him a shy smile, but his eyes continued to dart toward me. James followed his gaze and beamed, as if I was something he'd caught and he was dying to show off. He guided Peter over to the seat beside him. "Peter Pettigrew, Pippa Moore. She rejected Sirius earlier."

"Did you really?" Lily quipped, watching me with, what appeared to be, newfound respect.

I gave an exasperated sigh. The last thing I needed to be known for was rejecting the, seemingly, most popular boy in school. That would really get my reputation as a frigid bitch going. I tried to keep my tone light, as not to seem defensive. "I'm good for much more than that, I assure you."

"Oh, I bet you are," Sirius smirked, the suggestive innuendo clear. I narrowed my eyes, contemplating. Would it completely ruin what these people thought of me if I were to pounce across the seats and attack this insufferable jerk head on? If he kept acting this way, I almost didn't care.

Remus cleared his throat, sensing the need to change the subject. "So, Pippa, do you play Quidditch?"

His question caught my attention and I tore my murderous glare away from Sirius to smile at him. Quidditch was something all of us seemed to have in common.

x x x

Once less hostile conversation had been established, the train ride went by quickly and smoothly. I was amazed how much I had in common with the group, including that jackass Sirius Black. They all seemed very spirited in their interest in Quidditch and James and Sirius were on the team at Hogwarts. Even though I wasn't a player, Xander had taught me everything I needed to know. I'd even briefly been a commentator at the Salem Institute. They were pranksters – "Except Remus here," James had laughed. "He remains a spectator." I wouldn't deny my mischievous side; I even conceded that I'd bought some exploding snaps while in London. And, most importantly, they were lively. True Massachusetts folk could talk about a mile a minute and I was impressed that, not only could they keep up, they helped set the tone.

Lily and James bickered like an old married couple. He was head over heels for her and she was very into him – though she did an excellent job of hiding it. It was obviously a source of amusement for the others. Sirius loved egging them on and even Remus snuck in a snide comment or two. Peter was content to chuckle and agree with everything Sirius said.

We'd just begun to discuss classes at Hogwarts when the compartment door flew open again. Sirius was at his feet in an instant, wand drawn, with James, Peter, and Remus following after. Lily's face paled and I couldn't help but notice her hands itch for her wand as well.

"Relax, boys," the figure smirked. He was certainly striking – his tousled blond hair and flawless fair skin contrasted brilliantly with his bright blue eyes. His crisp accent sounded much more posh than the other boys and the way he carried himself, you knew he was from money. Aside from his apparent superiority complex, I couldn't grasp why the boys found him to be such a threat. The intruder held up his hands in surrender, but the smirk remained. "There's no need for wands."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Sirius growled, unflinching from his stance. Despite the fact that this probably wasn't the most appropriate situation for the realization, I couldn't help but notice that Sirius looked good all riled up.

"I'm here to see Miss Moore," he conceded. His gave flicked to me, but I was at a loss. The others gave me confused, somewhat accusing looks but I didn't know how to respond. Why did people here know me when I didn't know these people? Everyone seemed to be waiting for me to make a move, so I sat up and faced Malfoy.

"Uhm, I'm sorry, do I know you?" I managed, immediately knowing it was a student question. His grin confirmed it.

"Lucius Malfoy," he purred, extending his hand to me. Not wanting to be rude and, frankly, slightly enamored, I took it. He twisted my hand gently, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. There was a collective noise of discontent from Lily and the Marauders as he met my bewildered gaze. "I'm a friend of your father's."

My hand was ripped from his grip so fast even he seemed shocked. Pandora fell to the floor, but I was moving too quickly to notice. In record time, I was standing inches from him with my wand pressed to his throat.

"Stay away from me," I hissed, my voice angrier and more dangerous than I'd ever known it could go. Lucius had recovered from his initial shock and returned to his original smirk, despite the wands aimed at him. As if my wand wasn't pressing into his skin, he leaned forward until his lips were right by my ear. I heard someone behind me shuffle then stop, obviously having been held back.

"You cannot run from him anymore." His voice was too low for the others to hear, but chills broke out all throughout my body. He gave me a final, knowing smile and left the compartment without another word. I continued to stand there, staring at the door like a hopeless idiot.

My mother had promised Hogwarts was safe. She'd said, if there was anywhere in the world I could be protected, it was here. And yet, on my first day, he had found me. He had eyes on me. How long before he came for me?

"Are you alright, Pippa?" Remus asked softly. I opened my mouth to answer him but another voice interrupted me.

"Who is your father?"

xxx