Golden sunlight poured through my window, waking me from my deep slumber. Well, the light was a contributing factor – my little brother Arlo was patting my shoulder repeatedly, whispering "Star, wake up!" in his little sing-song voice.

"Arlo, I'm tired." I mumbled, rolling over and narrowly avoiding squishing my cat, Tybalt, "What time is it?"

Rolling his eyes, Arlo motioned to the blue clock on my bedside table, reading 5:30am. Suddenly, I remembered what day it was: 1st September 1974, i.e. the day I would start my fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Feet cold against the drafty, wooden floors of our farmhouse, I opened my almost empty wardrobe (all my clothes were folded neatly in my trunk by the front door) and pulled out the last outfit I had left. It was my favourite outfit, the casual flared jeans and rainbow stripe top matching my carefree personality perfectly, especially when worn against my loose waist-length brown waves and natural makeup.
"Star," came the soft voice of my mother, peeking her head around the side of my door, "if we don't leave soon, we'll never make it to Kings' Cross in time for the train."
Nodding, I scooped Tybalt up into his carry case and plodded down the stairs. It was funny to think how much had changed over this summer, I'd never felt more out of place in my life; it was as though my whole life had been hanging in suspended animation since July, and I just hoped that perhaps I'd feel some familiarity upon my return to Hogwarts. Arlo in tow, the three of us (four with the cat) clambered into our battered Ford Cortina and began the four-hour journey from Devon to London.
I was relieved to arrive in London at around 10:30, because it meant I could finally stretch my long legs. I was quite tall for my age, I stood at 5 foot 9 and wasn't sixteen until June, being one of the youngest in my year group, and the youngest fifth year Ravenclaw. However, I still deemed myself to be more mature than several people in my classes – especially the dreaded "Marauders" as they call themselves. Always bullying one poor soul or another, I was often the butt of their cruel jokes. I just hoped, after the summer I'd had, Merlin might grant me a year of peace, free from them.
After bidding my farewells to my mother and brother, I absent-mindedly pushed my cart towards Platforms 9 and 10 and slipped through the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾. I could never help but to stop and stare in awe whenever I dashed through: steam billowing around from the slick, burgundy train; parents, muggle and wizard alike, hugging and kissing wriggling children; prefects rushing from one end of the station to the other, guiding muggleborn first years to the right compartments. The whole scene was a bustling mess, and yet somehow managed to carry such a sense of home that it made me feel calm and happy.
I wandered up and down the train until I found an empty compartment near the back, far away from the usual Slytherin and Marauder spots. My trunk on a shelf above the bench and Tybalt asleep in his carrier beside me, I removed my guitar from its case, enchanted to make it fit in the palm of my hand when closed, but grow to a full size when opened. As the train set off and began slowly chugging down the rickety tracks, I gently plucked the strings of a folk tune my mother liked to sing, by Mary Hopkin. It was called Voyage of the Moon, and I closed my eyes and allowed myself to get lost in the flowing tune emulating from the strings between my fingers, so I didn't notice the door to my compartment being slid open and four boys striding in.
"Enjoying yourself, Smith?" I jumped at the sound of the mocking voice, coming from the pale mouth of a tall, thin boy with dark, shoulder length hair: the one and only Sirius Black. Internally I was screaming at myself for being so stupid as to let them hear me sing – this was just another thing they could tease me about – but I lifted my chin and looked him dead in the eye.
"I was actually Black, until I noticed a dreadful stink fill my compartment when you walked in." I knew my words would be something I regretted, but I couldn't deal with another year of incessant bullying.
"The only thing that stinks around here is your singing," Similar in height to Black, but more muscular and evened out was James Potter, star Gryffindor seeker, although blind as a bat without his round glasses. "It nearly shattered the windows and my glasses." I could feel another snappy retort rising in my throat and I didn't care enough to hold it back.
"Hopefully the broken pieces pierce your eyes; I'd like to see you try and play quidditch when your eyes are torn to shreds." Potter's eyes widen and his nostrils flare in anger.
A short, squat boy with pimples littering his forehead and nose stumbles forward and leans right in against my face, breathing his foul breath all over me.
"Has this summer made you forget who you're dealing with, Smith? We're Malaysian." I snorted.
"I'm going to make this easy and assume you meant 'malicious'." I said with eyebrows raised. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could I continued "Peter Petti-grow-a-brain-for-all-our-sakes."
Three angry faces turn towards me and begin to edge in; I prepare myself for a bruising. However, just as Black raises his fist for the first punch, a large hand holds him back and says "Sirius, she's not even worth it, lets just go. I have a prefect meeting in a moment anyway. We'll get her at school." I glare daggers at the boy, taller and more muscular than any of the others. Sandy brown hair flopped lazily over his eyes, Remus Lupin had just stolen my chance to avoid pranking for the year. Not that he seemed to care.
"You heard, Smith, we'll get you. Watch your freakish back." Pettigrew hissed before storming out. With a spit from Potter, and an obligatory kick to the ribs from Black, they were gone. I looked over at Tybalt.
"It's going to be a long year…"

Thanks for reading the first chapter of 'Stargazing'! Like and review, follow for (hopefully) frequent updates, if people want them :)

Quick note that -obviously- I have no ownership of Harry Potter or any of the characters you recognise in this story, but I do own Star, Arlo and any other OCs