PRECIOUS

dirt

STONE

road

The air was filled with the quiver and shiver and all the mechanical sounds of the Hogwarts Express. The muffled racket the rest of the students made, stumping around the corridor and talking loudly to each other, filtered itself to the lonely compartment where Emmeraud Wilshire sat, her flaming red hair falling over her face in irregular strands, hiding her eyes from any casual observer that might think about looking into her compartment. She was alone, and preferred it that way. She had a lot to think about, and knew that the idle chatter and chuckle of a bunch of unknown teenagers would certainly derail her thoughts, aside the fact that it would bother her immensely.

Sighing deeply, she leant back and lifted a leg, setting a boot-covered foot over the seat across her, black miniskirt receding even further up. Those were nice boots, she thought, and wiped a small speck of dirt off it with a wave of her hand. She thought of all her summer clothing, and gave a wistful look at the sky, greying and clouding outside her window. Fortunately, the train was warm, but she knew she'd have to get down eventually and brave Britain's cold and chilly weather. The girl wondered briefly what would the Hogwarts teachers say if she refused to use their uniform – black robes with the Hogwarts crest, almost the same design for boys and girls, not an ounce of imagination – and wore instead her best winter clothing, which was sure to be better fitting and more attractive than any of those old-fashioned rags.

She knew her mind was going in tangents. Even though she was genuinely concerned about the lifestyle she would be required to adopt – but hell take her if she didn't at least make small adjustments to those blasted robes –, she knew perfectly well that her main task, the one that brought her across the sea into a country she knew close to nothing about, was way above her concerns for clothing and style. Emmeraud closed her eyes, and the clear picture of a black-haired man, with eyes like hers, painted itself in her mind. She had inherited from her mother – more like 'taken it away from her' – an old picture, and the certainty that the man in it was her father. The only additional piece of information she had were a couple of words, written at the back: 'Spinner's End', with her mother's irregular writing, faded across the yellowish paper. Her mother had told her that her father was 'somewhere in Britain', but she had refused to reveal anything else about him, no matter how much the girl insisted in knowing.

Emmeraud scoffed lightly, smirking in a highly unpleasant way. Probably her father's exact whereabouts had been the only thing she had never been able to extract from mother dearest, and often she wondered if it was merely because she hadn't known them in the first place. The girl had a very low opinion of her mother, and often had ridiculed her efforts to maintain their little home up and running, pointing out her mistakes and mishandles as often as they'd happen. The girl was sure that, in the same circumstances, she would have acted much more effectively and would have spared the two of them a great many… inconveniences. It didn't matter anymore, though; her mother was now gone from her life, and although it had been a nuisance at first, the girl had learn to act and get what she needed – and wanted – for herself, up to that very moment, in which she travelled towards her new destination, all ties with her native America carefully severed by her, and her alone. Of course, authorities in Britain didn't need to know that…

These thoughts brought a smile to her face. Things had rolled out nice for Emmeraud, and she had no reason to think they wouldn't remain that way. The girl sprang up from her seat and reached up towards her trunk, her tight, buttoned up sweater lifting and showing her pierced navel with a small, silver belly button ring. She pulled her Hogwarts robes and gave them a disdainful look as she examined the stitches.

"Now, where to start…" her voice trailed off, as she threw the robes in the air, where they automatically froze, all stretched out.

As she got down the train, her brand new uniform adjusted to a better fit, she noticed a fair few boys staring at her, mouths agape, but she ignored them. No one talked to her, and as she walked towards a carriage, and up inside, only two other students rode with her, one of them a small boy that seemed to be in Second year, and the other one an older girl with glasses and a heavily freckle-stained face. Emmeraud's eyes were intently set on the carriage windows, apparently interested in the quickly-darkening sky and the feebly-glinting stars, but she was clearly trying to discourage the other girl to talk to her, as she saw nothing of use in her. As for the little boy, she had seen in his eyes that he was afraid of her, and it filled her with a secret happiness. With a little more practice, she could even have a little army of fearful, easily-manipulated younger students to set in doing her bidding.

But not yet, she thought, getting down the carriage as they arrived at Hogwarts, and walking further away from both students. She still had something else to do, something that required her all the concentration she could muster and little bit of Dark Magic.

After all, she didn't feel comfortable with the idea of something looking into her head, as she knew she'd soon had to face, by means of the school's 'sorting' – what a ridiculous idea, she had thought. Her protector, Humphrey Willis, had told her everything she needed to know about the old British school, and a few more things – unwillingly, she knew, but it didn't matter – among which was the tricky bit of magic she was about to perform.

Emmeraud pulled the hood over her head and dived into a deserted corridor while no one was looking. She pushed open the first door she found and walked in. Funny, she thought, that my first acquaintance with a classroom in this place has to remain a secret…

She had found it extremely humiliating to be subjected to the same treatment of all the First Years – later, when the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, in front of a crowd of expectant brats – but had walked across the room, between two tables full of expectant students, and towards the hat with a proud and determined look nonetheless.

Tinkering with the Dark Arts, are we? the Hat had mused, browsing around her mind, trying to find a clear enough trait to sort her. The girl felt its hesitation, and a triumphant smile pulled at the corners of her lips. The Hat couldn't see inside her mind; there was a thick fog obscuring the vision into her memories and feelings, due to the effects of the spell she had performed earlier.

You are pleased by my confusion, it talked to her. You weave your way out of dangerous situations, by any means possible. That only tells me what I need to know, even though the rest of you remains a mystery to me…

"Slytherin!" it cried, and Emmeraud quickly pulled it out of her head. She walked down to the Slytherin table, as proudly and determinedly as she had a few minutes before, and sat beside a group of older boys.

"Welcome to the best house of Hogwarts," one of them, a blonde boy with a gleaming silver badge addressed her. She turned and shot him an appraising look. The shining badge on his chest told her that she would do very good in befriending this charming stranger, and his overall countenance gave her the impression that this was a boy used to be admired and looked upon. She smiled, gracefully, but not devoid of mischief, and nodded at him. The boy smiled back, slightly surprised by her warmness. Got you, she thought, as she noticed how he looked around to his friends, as to tell them how it was done when you wanted to score with a girl. It would have surprised him even further, and probably frighten him, to know what went on in Emmeraud's head, and all the uses the girl had already found for him.

"So, you transferred from America, right?" Emmeraud felt a hand setting softly on her back, after they had eaten and left the Great Hall towards their respective dormitories, and turned to face the well-known voice. The blonde boy smiled at her, wishing to appear bold, but his face showed an expression of pathetic eagerness.

Emmeraud smiled and pushed his hand softly off her back. "Yes, I transferred, but had I known you greeted your visitors this closely," she shot him a dangerous look, "I might have not."

The boy's grin faded into morose embarrassment. "Sorry," he mumbled, and composed himself. "I'm Silenius Vector," he said, offering her a hand in salute, "Slytherin Prefect. And your name is…?"

"Emmeraud Wilshire," she answered, not taking her eyes off him. Apparently this made him a little nervous, and less willing to take the lead. It amused her.

"Nice to meet you, Emmeraud," he said, smiling nervously. She held his look for a few seconds, and then eased her features into a smile. "Nice to meet you too, Silenius," she answered, and added, "sorry about that, it's just that I'm tired from the long day."

"No problem," he said, his childish eagerness showing again, "we all are. But you can go to rest now, as soon as we get to the dungeons—"

"Hey, Vector!" a high-pitched voice called from across the corridor, "you're supposed to take the boys to their dormitories!" A tall, brown-haired girl with an unpleasant scowl strode towards him, her eyes roving between him and Emmeraud.

The boy sighed. "I know that, Ellis," he said, and skipped towards the front, where a small group of confused First Years was crowded in front of a wall. "It's not like they'll never find it themselves, anyway," he said, pushing them to a side, "and instead of howling around like a Banshee, you could have opened the door already, couldn't you?"

"It wasn't my turn," the girl shrugged as the boy said a word to what was apparently a portrait of an old, gloomy man.

"Proteus," he said, and the old man in the painting swung back to reveal the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. In went everyone, and towards their respective dormitories, except the First Years and Emmeraud. In all honesty, the girl had already noticed the path the other girls took to get to their rooms, and was sure it wouldn't be hard science to find her own room and things, but she wanted to take a look at the Common Room first before going to sleep.

"Boys that way, with Vector," the girl called Ellis said, irritably, "girls, follow me. You too, over there," she called Emmeraud.

The girl turned with an arrogant look. "I can find my own way, thanks," she said, and turned back to inspecting the fireplace. The girl Prefect fumed and walked towards Emmeraud with a fierce look. "You come right now with me!" she said, aiming her hand to grip Emmeraud's arm.

But she never got to touch her, for her hand met prickling sparks as it drew mere inches away from the girl's arm, making her shriek a strangled sort of cry. Emmeraud turned around with a hard, threatening look. "Or what, Ellis?" she laid the girl's name with a derisive tone.

"What did you do to me?!" the girl cried, nursing her hand. Emmeraud smiled disdainfully and turned around again. "It's not like I'll never find the way myself, anyway, is it?" she said. The girl Prefect shook with anger at this taunt, but thought it better and stormed towards the dormitories with a cry of 'Follow me!' to the First Year girls, who trailed clumsily after her, looking thoroughly scared.

Emmeraud grinned widely, her face hidden as she looked at the burning embers. She knew she had made herself noticed in a favourable way, at least for her, since no one in her House would dream now of trying to subject her to their wishes and whims. They had seen what she could do without a wand – what a ridiculous dependence to a wooden stick they teach here, she had thought when she had found out about wands, back in America – and it hadn't been pretty. The shrill Prefect girl had been defeated in their first confrontation, and Emmeraud doubted that she'd come back for more, although she almost wished she did. And the Prefect boy – Silly Silenius, she had already nicknamed him in her head – will soon be eating off her palm, provided she played the right moves with him.

This will be fun, she thought, turning around with a smile and walking calmly to the stairs towards the girl's dormitories.