DISCLAIMER: I OBVIOUSLY DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.

Also, this is my first fan fiction. I am still getting used to the site. If I do anything wrong, please, please tell me! I will be ever so grateful! Thanks, and enjoy! (Oh, yeah. Also, sorry if J.K. Rowling's characters end up too OOC, I try my best to consider what she would make them do in the situations I have set up)

LET ME GET STRAIGHT TO THE POINT. I don't like beating around the bush. I'm a witch. Not a bad witch, not like, "I'll get you my pretty, and your little dog tooo!" wicked- witch –of- the- west -type. Nope. I'm your average fourteen year old. If you don't count the fact that I can perform magic, of course. I go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm in Hufflepuff, yes, but I'm not wimpy or anything. People seem to think Hufflepuffs are wimpy. That's not the case. Really, it isn't. We're just fair, loyal, honest… modest. I ended up in Hufflepuff, but I've got personality traits that could get me into any one of the houses. I'm brave, cunning, and smart… and then there's that whole modesty thing again. But I guess I'm more Hufflepuff than anything else. Oh well.

Picture a stereotypical Hufflepuff girl. I am probably not that girl. Some of you, I'm guessing, if not most of you, pictured an average height and build, blonde hair, round face, and always helps and never says no. At least, that's what I've gathered from what I've seen online.( Yes, I DO use the internet. God I hate it when people are surprised at that. Why not?) Most likely I will end up describing myself in some other part of the story. Until then… I'll leave it to your imagination.

Okay I know you've been waiting for the story. Me too. I hate having to do that whole introduction thing, but I kind of have to. You know, so you know a bit about me. I tried to make it short and cover just what I feel are some –not all- of the basics. Anyway, we shall tarry no longer! Read on!

The day of departure… one of my favorite days of the year! Except the other day of departure, when we depart from school rather than home. That's my second favorite. My third favorite is when Honeydukes has a sale on a Hogsmeade day. But that is another story… (You get an imaginary thumbs-up from me if you read that in an ominous tone in your head. And a free smiley :D ) Today was that day. The first one I mentioned. I was in the muggle part of king's cross station, saying goodbye to my parents.

"got everything? If you've forgotten something, tell us and I'll send it your way, how's that?" my mother asks nervously while straightening my hair and clothes.

"Sounds good," I said as she kissed my forehead. "Love you." I hug her back.

"Love you," she replies.

"Go get 'em, tiger," my dad told me as he held me in a tight embrace.

"you say that every year."

"does it work every year?"

I could see this was going nowhere fast.

"c'mon lil' bro," I told my brother, Jacob, as I took hold of my trolley. This year would be his first at Hogwarts. He'd already said goodbye to mum and dad, but him and our mother went through the whole routine again. Finally, I reassure them,

"he'll be fine! If we go NOW, that is!" we say a final quick goodbye, amd I told jake to go onto the platform before me. "you just run at it," I said, indicating the solid-looking "brick" barrier. "it's not solid for witches and wizards."

Jacob looked at me suspiciously. Then, he seemed to decide that my instruction and tips was his only hope of getting onto the platform (both our parents are muggles), and he did as I told him to. After he disappeared, I followed and landed behind my brother on the platform.

Ah, platform 9 ¾.

The smoke… the people… the noise… the color… the animals… the… smoke.

I coughed.

Then I coughed again.

Then I launched into such a violent coughing fit that people around me started looking alarmed. Then I coughed up everything inside me. People contacted St. Mungo's emergency squad…

But it was too late.

Just kidding. I coughed a couple of times and then moved on. You should do the same. By that I mean keep reading.

I scanned the crowd for my best friend. 'He must be here somewhere,' I thought. Then I spotted the back of his head, his black unkempt hair matching his father's. It never laid flat in the back.

I yelled to him.

"James!" he seemed to be telling his family something he could hardly believe and didn't hear me. I caught the names of Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley. I decided it must be important, and that I would help my brother first, then meet James on the train.