Harry looked around the compartment. It seemed to be filled with people who, while they looked about his age, were completely unfamilliar. He'd been going to go to school for five years, after all, and Harry reasoned that by now he should know the majority of his classmates, but none of these people looked like they'd been to Hogwarts before.
Harry had thought he'd seen Ron and Hermione come into this compartment, but he must have been wrong, because they weren't there. There were, however, eight unusual, unique, and creative looking students. Harry looked at all of them very closely, because he was immediately fascinated by their appearances.
Six of the eight were girls, and one immediately stuck out in particular. She was rather average looking, but almost from within her skin, there shined a beautiful, strange glow, an aura, if you will. Her petite bone structure was obvious under the baggy orangey-pink robes she wore. Indeed, they were nice robes. Despite the use of such normally clashing colours, they still were absolutely beautiful and complimented her hair, the colour of a night sky, beautifully. Her eyes were like stars, so beautifully grey were they. In truth, she was average in comparison to the others, but that was still a great deal better looking than most. This girl was holding a sweet, cuddly looking bunny and petting it softly.
After gazing upon this tiny beauty for a few seconds, Harry turned to drink in the appearance of another girl. She was an exact opposite of the first. Her robes were very frilly and out of place on her lean, muscular body, but they still complimented her smooth, cocoa coloured skin and dark, almond shaped eyes. While the robes would lend a delicate look to anyone else, they made this girl appear even more tomboyish. Their silky material and soft, yellow colour was fitted for such an exotic creature. She held a broom--the Dragonflame, brand new and even faster than the Firebolt!--lazily in one hand, admiring its glossy greenish handle and "accidentally" hitting a boy in the head with it every once in a while.
This boy took no notice of the hits, though. His soulful blue eyes were cast down towards a battered notebook spattered with--ugh, was that BLOOD?! He was a picturesque young man, with striking, stick-straight brown hair that fell to his shoulders. It was caught up in a loose ponytail, but a few strands had jumped free and hung rebelliously around his downturned face. He looked hard at work, holding a strangely coloured quill in his hand, positioned right above the paper. It was the colours of the earth, a beautiful tawny grey-brown, and it appeared to have come from a deadly-looking falcon perched upon his shoulder. His robes were elegant and stiffly pressed, very Victorian looking. They resembled Noyes' Highwayman's dress in colour, a tawny velvety sort of robe with a high bit of lace at his throat. He would have been fit to take tea with the best of society, though at the moment he looked too depressed to do anything except stare woefully at his notebook.
Next to him was the only other boy, and while he also male, the similarities ended there. He was leaning jauntily on the seat, talking a mile a minute and petting a snake. His thick, sandy hair reminded Harry a bit of Seamus, except Seamus had never learned to make it fall so sexily across his forehead like this boy could...Harry mentally slapped himself and continued to observe. The skin of this young man was tanned. He looked like he walked off of Waikiki Beach after singing a few numbers with Mike, Carl, and the rest of the gang. His robes were in disarray and open at the collar. Their sky-blue colour matched his eyes perfectly.
The person he spoke to looked fascinated by him. She was a thin, pale being who looked more like a spun-glass figurine than a human being. Her hair was an ethereal blonde, nearly white, or perhaps colourless, and it matched her ghostly skin, contrasted only by her wide, violet eyes. Her eyes were unnaturally intense, as well, and if she could burn things with them like that Muggle comic book character, the boy who wouldn't shut up would have some nice holes in his head at the moment. In her lap, she held a fishbowl with a cover very carefully, as if it might spill. Harry wasn't sure why, though, because it appeared to be completely empty except for water. Her robes matched the boy's. Harry wondered if they went to the same school.
On the other side of the compartment, there were three more girls. Two were in a deep conversation. They kept waving their hands around in wild gestures. One girl was speaking very quietly except for when, at random intervals, she'd jump up and scream something that seemed very random to Harry's ears. He supposed it had something to do with their conversation, though. She'd sit back down and begin to talk very quietly again after that point. Her hair was a coppery auburn that fell down to her mid-back in soft, smooth curls. Not a single hair moved out of place as she stood up and down. It framed her face like a shining halo. Her eyes were sparkling and green, with delicate, long lashes. A dusting of freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, giving her a sweet, country air to her. From where Harry stood, she smelled beautiful, like lilacs in May. Her robes were a deep, pine-green that hung elegantly off her shoulders.
The girl she was talking with had the same dark green robes, and they looked as lovely on her. This girl was a bit shorter than the other one, but she was just as gorgeous. Her raven hair was tied in a French braid that fell past her knees. She was sitting on it. Weird, Harry thought, but beautiful nonetheless. Her eyes were clear and brown, framed by cute, tortoise-shell cat's-eye glasses. What Harry noticed immediately were her delicate, lily-white hands with beautifully manicured fingernails. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that in Harry's mind, but the last girl drew his attention.
This girl had blonde hair, darker than the pale girl's but still very light. Her hair was thick and soft, in a cute shoulder-length cut. She had expressive blue eyes that seemed to slowly be changing colour. Her robes were that pinkish-orange again, but they looked magnificent on her. She was flipping through a YM magazine--so she was a Muggle, Harry guessed--and had a stack of other magazines next to her. They included Seventeen, Teen People, Cosmopolitan, and Witch Weekly, among others, but Harry's attention had been turned.
He couldn't resist. He had to touch that broom. Harry softly lay a finger upon the very tip when the black girl holding it snapped her head up. She stood quickly, pushing him back a little, with an angry look upon her face.
"What're you doin' with my broom?" she asked indignantly.
"Just touching it," said Harry, looking shocked. No one had ever said something like this to him before. "It's really a great broom."
"I knoooow that. So why you touchin' it? It ain't yours." The girl took a step forward.
"I--I'm sorry," Harry said. "Look, we got off to a bad start. My name's Harry. What's yours?"
"Bree. And that don't excuse you. Come up with a good reason for touchin' my broom or I'll stuff it up your--"
"BREE!"
"Oh, right. Well? I'm waitin'."
"Umm...because I think you're sexy?" Harry guessed.
This was NOT the right thing to say. She advance towards him, brow arched, hands in fists. Oops.
~*~
How do you like it so far? Review or we'll turn to booze! Thanks!
Harry had thought he'd seen Ron and Hermione come into this compartment, but he must have been wrong, because they weren't there. There were, however, eight unusual, unique, and creative looking students. Harry looked at all of them very closely, because he was immediately fascinated by their appearances.
Six of the eight were girls, and one immediately stuck out in particular. She was rather average looking, but almost from within her skin, there shined a beautiful, strange glow, an aura, if you will. Her petite bone structure was obvious under the baggy orangey-pink robes she wore. Indeed, they were nice robes. Despite the use of such normally clashing colours, they still were absolutely beautiful and complimented her hair, the colour of a night sky, beautifully. Her eyes were like stars, so beautifully grey were they. In truth, she was average in comparison to the others, but that was still a great deal better looking than most. This girl was holding a sweet, cuddly looking bunny and petting it softly.
After gazing upon this tiny beauty for a few seconds, Harry turned to drink in the appearance of another girl. She was an exact opposite of the first. Her robes were very frilly and out of place on her lean, muscular body, but they still complimented her smooth, cocoa coloured skin and dark, almond shaped eyes. While the robes would lend a delicate look to anyone else, they made this girl appear even more tomboyish. Their silky material and soft, yellow colour was fitted for such an exotic creature. She held a broom--the Dragonflame, brand new and even faster than the Firebolt!--lazily in one hand, admiring its glossy greenish handle and "accidentally" hitting a boy in the head with it every once in a while.
This boy took no notice of the hits, though. His soulful blue eyes were cast down towards a battered notebook spattered with--ugh, was that BLOOD?! He was a picturesque young man, with striking, stick-straight brown hair that fell to his shoulders. It was caught up in a loose ponytail, but a few strands had jumped free and hung rebelliously around his downturned face. He looked hard at work, holding a strangely coloured quill in his hand, positioned right above the paper. It was the colours of the earth, a beautiful tawny grey-brown, and it appeared to have come from a deadly-looking falcon perched upon his shoulder. His robes were elegant and stiffly pressed, very Victorian looking. They resembled Noyes' Highwayman's dress in colour, a tawny velvety sort of robe with a high bit of lace at his throat. He would have been fit to take tea with the best of society, though at the moment he looked too depressed to do anything except stare woefully at his notebook.
Next to him was the only other boy, and while he also male, the similarities ended there. He was leaning jauntily on the seat, talking a mile a minute and petting a snake. His thick, sandy hair reminded Harry a bit of Seamus, except Seamus had never learned to make it fall so sexily across his forehead like this boy could...Harry mentally slapped himself and continued to observe. The skin of this young man was tanned. He looked like he walked off of Waikiki Beach after singing a few numbers with Mike, Carl, and the rest of the gang. His robes were in disarray and open at the collar. Their sky-blue colour matched his eyes perfectly.
The person he spoke to looked fascinated by him. She was a thin, pale being who looked more like a spun-glass figurine than a human being. Her hair was an ethereal blonde, nearly white, or perhaps colourless, and it matched her ghostly skin, contrasted only by her wide, violet eyes. Her eyes were unnaturally intense, as well, and if she could burn things with them like that Muggle comic book character, the boy who wouldn't shut up would have some nice holes in his head at the moment. In her lap, she held a fishbowl with a cover very carefully, as if it might spill. Harry wasn't sure why, though, because it appeared to be completely empty except for water. Her robes matched the boy's. Harry wondered if they went to the same school.
On the other side of the compartment, there were three more girls. Two were in a deep conversation. They kept waving their hands around in wild gestures. One girl was speaking very quietly except for when, at random intervals, she'd jump up and scream something that seemed very random to Harry's ears. He supposed it had something to do with their conversation, though. She'd sit back down and begin to talk very quietly again after that point. Her hair was a coppery auburn that fell down to her mid-back in soft, smooth curls. Not a single hair moved out of place as she stood up and down. It framed her face like a shining halo. Her eyes were sparkling and green, with delicate, long lashes. A dusting of freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, giving her a sweet, country air to her. From where Harry stood, she smelled beautiful, like lilacs in May. Her robes were a deep, pine-green that hung elegantly off her shoulders.
The girl she was talking with had the same dark green robes, and they looked as lovely on her. This girl was a bit shorter than the other one, but she was just as gorgeous. Her raven hair was tied in a French braid that fell past her knees. She was sitting on it. Weird, Harry thought, but beautiful nonetheless. Her eyes were clear and brown, framed by cute, tortoise-shell cat's-eye glasses. What Harry noticed immediately were her delicate, lily-white hands with beautifully manicured fingernails. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that in Harry's mind, but the last girl drew his attention.
This girl had blonde hair, darker than the pale girl's but still very light. Her hair was thick and soft, in a cute shoulder-length cut. She had expressive blue eyes that seemed to slowly be changing colour. Her robes were that pinkish-orange again, but they looked magnificent on her. She was flipping through a YM magazine--so she was a Muggle, Harry guessed--and had a stack of other magazines next to her. They included Seventeen, Teen People, Cosmopolitan, and Witch Weekly, among others, but Harry's attention had been turned.
He couldn't resist. He had to touch that broom. Harry softly lay a finger upon the very tip when the black girl holding it snapped her head up. She stood quickly, pushing him back a little, with an angry look upon her face.
"What're you doin' with my broom?" she asked indignantly.
"Just touching it," said Harry, looking shocked. No one had ever said something like this to him before. "It's really a great broom."
"I knoooow that. So why you touchin' it? It ain't yours." The girl took a step forward.
"I--I'm sorry," Harry said. "Look, we got off to a bad start. My name's Harry. What's yours?"
"Bree. And that don't excuse you. Come up with a good reason for touchin' my broom or I'll stuff it up your--"
"BREE!"
"Oh, right. Well? I'm waitin'."
"Umm...because I think you're sexy?" Harry guessed.
This was NOT the right thing to say. She advance towards him, brow arched, hands in fists. Oops.
~*~
How do you like it so far? Review or we'll turn to booze! Thanks!
