note: cross-posted on AO3 and Tumblr, so read where you want. Links are on my profile.
They're on the train before Beth even notices her.
She walks in front of them with her trunk up on wheels like a traveller's suitcase. She's small, smaller than most of the other first years, but she seems more secure than any of them. Her little flats clack down the corridor in time with each bounce of her ponytail and swish of her head to check for open compartments. She reminds Beth a bit of herself actually, only this girl's wearing a pink headband and matching button-up shirt under a black Hogwarts robe like all of the real wizard kids.
Not that Beth's not real — er, whole — she's half, or something like that. Beth was adopted, so it's hard to know where that whole magical ability comes from for her. All she knows is that she can make magic and has been ever since the day she got into a fight with Sarah and Helena Manning when they were nine.
Beth blacked out a bit during the fight, and when she came to, the Mannings were knocked down on the ground and soaking wet. Storm clouds were above them too, but as Beth looked up, the clouds shrank down into the same white fluff balls they were before Helena called Beth a dirty copy cat. Beth had thought she'd gone bonkers until Sarah said she could do it too; so could Helena. They had sensed it about her and wanted to be friends. ("It was Helena's idea," Sarah pointed out.)
So friends they were. Still are.
Even now, Sarah and Helena lug their trunks behind Beth's as they try shoving their stuff into the luggage hatch of their compartment. It takes all three of them pushing to slam the cover down, and they all flop down onto their seats with strained breath when they're done.
Sarah breaks the silence first. "Can you believe it?" She rolls her head to the side so she can smile at Helena. "We're really going. To a bloody magic school."
"The best magic school," Helena corrects.
Beth grins. Helena's been looking into Hogwarts ever since they got their letters. The one time they all found their way to Diagon Alley, Helena spent the whole trip reading that Hogwarts: A History book while eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Didn't even spit out the bad tasting ones, just kept on chewing and mumbling facts out at them about how great their new home would be.
"Best one here, Helena. Doesn't mean it's the best ever," Sarah says.
Helena shakes her head. "Hogwarts trains the best witches and wizards. We will be the best, Sarah. We will grow up and have magic jobs and live in magic town with—"
"Let me guess," Sarah cuts in, her eyes gleaming playfully as she glances at Beth, "magic." Beth snorts. Helena pouts, so Sarah nudges their shoulders together, says, "Seriously, Helena, we get it."
Beth nods. It's not like anything's really that different in the magical world, is it? More tricks and faster delivery, but same basic stuff and boring problems, Beth's sure.
After all, they're on a train to go to a boarding school. There's still guys who bounce down the hall roaring like the lions that their house colors affirm them to be. Still girls in bright pink shirts who seem oblivious about everything else around them. Girls who sit with their attention on a book Beth can't quite make out, who scan line after line instead of waving goodbyes to a family on the platform.
Does she not have family? The girl in pink, not Beth. Is that why she's so quiet?
Everyone else in the compartment across the way seems energetic, enthusiastic to be taking off for another year away from home. A lot of them have on their house colors already, so they have to be second years at least. There's a boy with a round face and a bellowing laugh that almost reaches across the corridor; his green and silver tie has a stain on it, not that he cares, too busy spittling out bits of a sandwich when he talks.
Another boy, this one leaner with growing muscles and a haircut short enough to be military grade, flicks what must be remnants of the round boy's food off of his scarlet and gold tie.
The girl in the pink barely acknowledges them all. Like she's not even there, like she doesn't even want to be.
Maybe Beth should talk to her. Invite her over to their compartment. There's room for another, and then Beth can talk to the pink girl while Sarah talks to Helena. Then no one has to be invisible.
"Oi!"
Beth snaps her gaze back to Sarah who follows that old stare right across the hall. A little smirk rises up on Sarah's lips.
"Been on the train five minutes and you're already picking out a boyfriend? What have you done with Beth Childs?"
Beth kicks Sarah's shin. "It's not the guys." Sarah's smirk turns into a wide-eyed laugh. Beth scrambles. "No, wait, not like that! It's —" Shit. She takes a breath. Tries again, slower. "That girl over there seems miserable."
"I would too if I had those clothes on. Really, pink?"
"Sarah."
"Don't 'Sarah' me."
"Sarah," and this time it's Helena saying it, so the older twin shuts her mouth a second, "we should help her."
"She doesn't need help. You're both playing into that whole idea that girls can't take care of themselves. It's sickening, really."
Beth rolls her eyes. As if Sarah gives two shits about feminist leanings. She's just too lazy to actually get off her butt and do something. Fine then. Beth'll do it herself.
She lifts herself up and smoothes her hands down her slacks. They feel warm all of a sudden. And her pants probably have wrinkles in them. Should've taken Sarah's foster mom up on the offer to iron their clothes before they left. It's too late now anyway. Hopefully, the girl won't care.
Beth walks across the space to the compartment door and slides it open. She gets a foot out into the corridor before some girl with a short blonde bob cut crashes into her. It's all sharp elbows and the jab of a heel connecting with Beth's very solid toes.
"Shit!" Beth swears, at the same time as someone else — a boy — says, "Rachel?"
Beth glances to where the voice came from, but that boy's eyes are only on the person whose heel's still wedged on her toe. This chick must be Rachel. The Rachel girl grunts, shoving Beth back with manicured claws while stomping that same heeled foot into another one of Beth's toe. Another curse bubbles out of Beth, not that Rachel or her lapdog seem to notice.
The boy reaches out a hand to steady Rachel. Rachel swats at him, effectively and finally rocking herself off of Beth's feet. "Unhand me, Daniel." He does as told.
Beth grumbles, reaching down to rub her feet. She hears the compartment door moving again behind her. Knows Mama Bear Manning is probably right there waiting to start a fight on her behalf.
"I'm fine," she says without even a glance back.
"The hell you are," Sarah says with a step into the hall. She plants herself next to Beth, glare focused on Rachel. "Back off of my friend."
Rachel chuckles at that, but there's no humor in her voice. Only emptiness and entitlement. "It's your friend who should 'back off' of me."
Sarah takes another step forward, widening her stance, closing the distance between her and her target.
"Or what? You'll give her the same shite haircut somebody gave you?"
Rachel practically gasps. Her nostrils flare, and she only needs to lift her chin and lapdog Daniel wedges himself between Rachel and Sarah. He's a little taller than Sarah, but their glares level out in the hallway just fine.
This whole thing is too much of a commotion. Beth glances away for an out and catches the eye of the girl in the pink. They're wide, strikingly clear and honest for someone who seemed so averse to human contact. Beth opens her mouth, and just as quickly as the girl glanced over, the girl drops her gaze back to her book. Beth slams her lips shut.
If only Sarah would do the same.
"You can't just run people down in the halls. Who gave you the right?"
"My father practically wrote the comprehensive guide to magical genetics. Everything we know and ever are to know about how magic courses through our veins, we gained from him." Rachel cocks her head to the side in a motion that's normally inviting; now, it seems like a threat. "What has your family done? Besides create a feral litter of you."
Sarah's fist bunches. "One more word out of you—"
"And you'll hit me." Rachel spreads her arms out like a target. "Go ahead. Prove how low your ilk are."
Sarah lunges at Rachel, fists bared and feet practically slamming back into Beth to give her the leverage she needs. Beth reels back from the kick. Sarah's fist connects somewhere on Rachel's jaw. Helena shrieks in the background. God, Beth can hear her moving forward too. She squeezes her eyes shut. This whole bloody mess is so—
"Stupefy!"
Wait, what?
Beth cracks her eyes back open, and everything's just sort of… stopped. Sarah's frozen with her muscles rigid and poised to attack. Rachel's stuck in a scream that has no sound. Even Daniel's caught with his hand stuck in his robes — on a guest for his wand no doubt.
She looks for the source of the curse and finds that the girl in the pink is now standing in the threshold of the other compartment, wand at the ready. Beth's jaw might actually drop a little.
The girl in the pink concentrates on holding them all frozen. Her eyebrows knit, and her lips are in this tight line that makes her look older than her eleven years. She has no tie, no house colors. For all Beth knows, she shouldn't even be able to cast a curse like that without practice. Unless she's been practicing before.
She really is a real witch. (And what a witch she is.)
The spell cracks. Sarah falls down, taking Rachel to the ground with her. Daniel stops reaching for his wand and reaches to free Rachel instead. Helena scrambles down to hoist up Sarah. And Beth just keeps on staring at the girl in the pink who, for a second, stares back.
Beth clears her throat, says, "Uh, thank you. For the curse."
"Don't mention it," the girl says. Her voice is tight, restrained and reserved, but lighter than Beth had expected. The girl bounces a bit on the balls of her feet. "Really, don't. They don't allow magic on the Hogwarts Express. I just, couldn't let you all beat each other to a pulp before our year even begins."
She's getting worked up, isn't she? Her face starts flushing to match her headband, but the words keep tumbling out of her. "We're the next generation of witches. One day, we have to be able to protect not only our families but the entire wizarding world secret, and frankly, I don't think anyone would entrust that with you all when you're acting like a bunch of children!"
She huffs. "Get up!" Everyone does, and they stare at her with their own wide-eyed, open-mouthed bewilderment. "Dust yourselves off, say you're sorry, and use some common sense. We get sorted in a few hours, and we have to give our houses people to be proud of." She must note the blank stares from her fellow first years because her voice lowers and so does her wand. "Just grow up. Please."
Then she steps back into her compartment and slides the door closed as if that whole speech didn't just happen.
The hall's quiet without her. Sarah rubs her sore knuckles. Rachel nurses her pride. Helena's laugh breaks this silence.
"You got lectured on first day," Helena says, laugh growing. Sarah pushes at her shoulder.
"Yeah, well, at least I earned my Gryffindor colors right there. Brave through and through," Sarah boasts.
"More like reckless and idiotic," Rachel drones, "but it's fitting for a future Gryffindor."
Sarah's jaw tenses, but she doesn't attack again. "Thought you didn't get all bitchy until after you became a Slytherin."
"Family trait."
Sarah's hum says she bets it is. Beth sighs and turns to go back into their compartment. Helena follows. Sarah too. The three of them get in while Rachel slides the door to the opposite one. Beth hesitates.
"You —" Rachel motions to the girl in the pink — "Hendrix, am I right?"
The girl lowers her book into her lap and nods once. "Alison," she says. (Alison, Beth repeats.)
"My name is Rachel Duncan, and I look forward to getting to know you better. You seem… aware for someone our age."
Alison straightens her spine. "Thank you, but no thank you. I'd rather not associate with someone who uses her name as a weapon."
"Better my name than my fists."
Alison peeks over. Her eyes meet Beth's again. She tells Rachel, "It was a pleasure meeting you. But, if you don't mind," she rises, book in hand, "I have somewhere to be."
She steps around Rachel and Daniel and out of their compartment. A few steps later, and she's walking past Beth to take a seat across from Sarah. Beth and the Mannings just stare again.
Alison clears her throat. "Is this — may I sit with you?"
Beth nods before she can find the words to agree. Sarah finds them, so Beth can focus on sliding their compartment closed and effectively leaving Rachel outside.
"'Course you can. But you gotta show me how you did that curse."
"Oh, it's easy." Alison pulls her wand out of her book. Smiles at each of them. "One of the first spells I learned. We have to know how to protect ourselves, right?"
Sarah chuckles. "Hear that, Beth? Protect ourselves."
Beth grins. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say."
"Hmm," Alison licks her lips, "I like the sound of that."
Beth flushes. Nods. Avoids the way Sarah's eyes get that knowing tint to them. "Right. About that spell."
"Of course. So, it's all about the swish and flick."
"Oi, Childs—"
"Shut up, Sarah."