Valyn didn't listen much to Lucius as he spoke to her. Usually, she was more than happy to converse with her distant cousin, but today was not the time. As soon as she's finished tucking away her trunk, she excused herself. It was 10:21 after all; she had time.
Attor followed, of course- her pretty little pet. Honestly, she was amazed that Dumbledore- the Headmaster- had allowed her to bring him. Back at Ilvermorny, where pygmy dragons were much more common, she'd had to leave him at home, though she had been allowed to visit him on the weekends.
At first he was content stumbling about under her best pair of gogo boots, but when he discovered she was leaving the compartment, he leaped onto the seat before transferring himself to her shoulder blade, head resting on her collarbone. He was a two-tone Antipodean Opaleye- his main tone was the normal pearlescent gleam, but his belly was tinted darker, though it still shone through all of the colors of the rainbow. He was deformed, as many pygmys were, with his little arms connected to his wings. When he walked, he tucked the outer halves of his wings in, but the edges were still a little scraped, making it harder to fly. He was gorgeous, though, with his small nubby teeth and long, graceful snout. His nostrils flared when he was happy, and as they engorged with every inhale, Valyn knew he was ecstatic to accompany his mistress. His eyes were short and wide, not shining as the rest of his body, but a slightly eerie, pupiless creme. They shone with intelligence- dragons were more intelligent than both dogs and cats, and were known to count up to twenty, when they agreed to be taught. He had long tendrils of cartilage travelling in wisps over his head and down his back, changing to small spikes along his swaying tail. Valyn had been sure to round them before coming here, which he had not enjoyed. His claws and fangs- the only other sharp edges on the beast- had also been dulled, but he hadn't minded those much. He had a tuft of skin beneath his jaw, for creating his fire, but being pygmy, it was simply hollow and useless. He used it instead for storing water, a feat that thoroughly amused Valyn. Whenever he saw her poster of a full-size Antipodean Opaleye spitting vibrant red flames, he'd sputter the water out of his mouth, causing Valyn to errupt into a giggling fit. It didn't matter that she was sixteen.
His neck was long and mobile, like the body of a snake, and attached to thin shoulders. His arms were bent at the elbows, small fingers with their dulled claws clinging to her shirt beside his shoulders, wings pulled in tight behind them. His wingspan was as large as he- a foot and a half. A slim body lay between them and short, rabbit-like legs, parted by his tail- it took up half of his size, and much of the other half was neck. Valyn smiled at her pet, and he mocked it by baring his teeth.
She'd left the smaller of his teeth sharper- he did eat meat, after all. She gifted him with a meal of goat and lamb meat, something he enjoyed quite much. She had a near farm of them, all shipped from his homeland, Australia. His breed was from New Zealand, but his mother had been in Australia when she birthed the egg. It had been small for an egg, and dragons knew when their offspring were pygmies- she'd abandoned him. Luckily, however, a visiting young witch had stumbled upon the valley they were in right as the mother had cast the egg from her nest- Valyn herself. She'd begged her father, the great Belial Malfoy, known all over Romania his wonderful dragonologist skills, until he'd finally agreed.
That had been six years ago. Since then, of course, wonderous things had happened.
They'd kept in in the fireplace until he began to hatch, before he'd come out on the living room floor. He'd been tiny and blind, eyes still closed, and Valyn had fallen in love. When her father had pointed to fangs covered in mushy, purple mouth skin, he'd warned her that the fnags were venemous and lethal to humans, even on a pygmy. She'd named him Attor in honor; it meant venom.
He'd grown quickly, and on his first birthday only months before her eleventh, he'd been fully grown- but there was a problem. He had one cartilage tendril that was too-long for his head, and it often sent him toppling over whenever he tried to fly.
Her father said they'd have to cut it off, something that terrified Valyn. Of course, her father did things like that often- but still. Father had convinced her by bringing a wandmaker to the house, who could make the cartilage inside the tendril into a wand for her. That had made her giddy.
They'd set the surgery for a week before her birthday. The wandmaker and her father chose a wood for her- dogwood. It was to be a six inch, unbending dogwood wand with a dragon cartilage core.
The removal was easy, especially at her father's dragon reserve in Romania. The wand was finished by her birthday, and as soon as she shifted the wand in her hand, fireworks much like fire flared from it. The wand was perfect for her.
The wandmaker- a boy barely older than she with a thick Scottish accent- had explained to her the meaning of all of the traits. Dogwood was silly, quirky and adventurous and would not answer to non-verbal magic. Dragon cartilage, much like dragon heartstring, was showed that the user learned quickly and was meant to be strong. Six inches was very rare to take to a person, especially as quickly as it took to Valyn, and signified the weilder's character to be lacking in some way. Unbending meant that it's allegiance to Valyn would never change nor falter.
Valyn looked down at the wand in it's sheath at her hip. The wand was bowed slightly, like Attor's tendrils, and very dark, thin, and smooth. The sheath was connected to a belt Valyn never took off (other than sleep and shower) made of dragon hide thought to be from Attor's mother- there had been only one female dragon on Australia at the time, and she'd had father buy it. She had a backup wand, as did her father, made of two of her heartstrings. Her wood had been hazel, one of her personal favorites, and her father's had been poplar unlike his first, which had been Cypress- also, by the by, the cypress had had a core of unicorn hair.
She nearly bumped into someone while reminiscing.
"Hey," a deep, British accent barked angrily. "You're on the right side of the hallway, girl,"
She blinked at the guy before realizing- Here, in Britain, one walked on the left. Valyn sighed.
"I'm sorry, I'm not from here." Valyn said, stepping into the left wall. She examined the four boys before her.
The deep-voiced one she'd nearly ran into was probably six foot, with skin probably as fair as her own. His hair was shoulder length and the deepest shade of brown- she would have thought it black if the candle light didn't shine upon it. He had a remarkably handsome face, one of royalty, with pronounced features and thin, smouldering eyes the darkest shade of blue Valyn had ever seen. He wore No-Maj clothes; His old, worn grey shirt boasted Aerosmith, but most of the logo was worn out. A black leather jacket sat on broad shoulders, and ripped black jeans fell around muscular looking legs. Combat boots finished the look.
Directly beside him was a boy the same age as the punk guy- same as Val- and he wore a tight, gold-and-orange patterned shirt tucked into the male equivalent of bell-bottom pants, bright crimson. His belt was white with scarlet polka dots, and his shoes looked to have heels. His hair was pitch black and wild, and big, square glasses sat atop a relatively attractive face with large, round hazel eyes. He was much tanner than his punk friend.
Behind him was the tallest, a scrawny kid maybe a head taller than the bell bottom boy, who stood easily 5'10. He had lighter brown hair with highlights of red and blond, and pale, acne-ridden skin. His eyes were light caramel.
He wore a dull, brown plaid button up, open, and a brown-and-tan striped shirt beneath it, tucked into old jeans. Brown dress shoes, old and dirty and worn, finished his look.
And finally, the shortest boy. He had a light blond bowl cut that framed a cute, chubby peach face with small blue eyes. He had one small hoop earring and wore a fringe jacket a top a medium blue button up with three buttons undone, showing a small mess of yellow chest hairs. The shirt was tucked into brown leather pants atop brown sneakers.
"You're..." Valyn felt herself grin, something people did not often urge her to do. "An odd bunch."
The punk straightened, eyes narrowing. The tan kid grinned proudly. The acne guy got a small smile, looking down and nowhere near towards Valyn. The chubby boy beamed.
They were the nerds.
"Don't mind them," said a harpie-like voice with a british accent. Valyn turned. "They're nothing but nothings." The girl was again around Valyn's age, with curly, wild black hair and cold black eyes, and facial features remarkably similar to the punk's. "I'm Bellatrix Lilith Black, but you must call me Bella," She took Valyn's hand and smiled. "Don't worry, I of course know who your are- my sister is Narcissa, your cousins girlfriend!"
The punk snorted. "This is Lucius' cousin? Should've known, I reckon." He sneered at Valyn as he gave her a once-over.
Valyn pictured herself as she remembered from the morning. Her long, straight, thick hair was white-blonde and obediant, trailing down her back. Her skin was soft and flawless this morning, unridden with the breakout she was terrified she'd have- stress gave her pimples. Her eyes were small and a nearly colorless shade of sepia, her lips glossed over with clear chapstick. She wore her Led Zeppelin shirt beneath a dragon hide jacket made from Attor's mother (she was surprised noone had remarked on his behalf), tucked into a short, white snakeskin skirt. Long, hueless and hairless legs led down to white vinyl go go boots that took her height from 5'10 to 5'11. She looked good, honestly.
She looked over at Bella. She wore a black lace dress to her ankles and wrists, and had black eyeshadow that faded up into grey before hitting her eyebrows. She was the epitome of goth... So why was she acting all... Not ready for death?
Two girls were behind Bella, Valyn noticed.
One was familiar to Valyn through photographs on Lucius' dresser- Cissa Black. She had hair only slightly less white than Valyn's, skin only slightly darker than hers, though her face was not long and elegant like Valyn's, but stunning an dcontoured like her sister's and the punk's. She wore a pastel, short, longsleeved psychedelic dress and go go boots like Valyn. Her blonde hair was short, though, cut as short as a boy's to frame her gorgeous face. She had giant, ice-blue eyes.
There was another girl, too. She wore kahki pants that stopped just below a pale navel and a sparkly magenta bustier that really looked like a glorified brazier under her hogwarts cloak thing. Her feet were bare. She had orange-brown curls down to her shoulders and had the same face as her sisters, though her eyes were green.
"I'm Andy," the bustier girl said. "Andy Black. That's Cissa, by the way."
Valyn nodded. "I'm Valyn." She glanced over so as to include the odd boys in her introduction. "My friends call me Val, though."
The red-and-orange boy stepped forward before someone else could reply. "I'm James Potter, Charms and Potions extraordinair. Nice to meet you, Val," He offered a big, tan hand, and she shook it. He, like Lucius and the Black sisters, as well as his punk friend, had the more refined British accent, the one better understood by the American girl. Valyn shook his hand.
"He's nothing!" Bella shreiked disapprovingly, very un-goth. Valyn looked behind her.
"So?" Valyn asked. "Are you so rude as to deny a gentleman the introduction to a lady?" Her father had not raised her to be rude, brazen, or shrieky. She began to dislike Bella.
"Ha! James Potter is no gentleman," Andy spoke this time, smirking. "Still, it's only polite. Calm down, Bella." The not-goth huffed and stalked off. Cissa and Andy exchanged looks.
"This, m'lady, is Sirius Black, cousin of that frightful wench," James bent and offered both arms towards Sirius, the gorgeous punk, who glared down at James.
"You're an out-and-out wanker," Sirius said, and the chubby kid snickered.
"Just because my prince's hand isn't too busy pleasuring a Muggle's trash doesn't give you reason to insult me."
Valyn raised a brow, confused. Andy, too, gave the boys an odd look, but Cissa was disinterested.
"I'll be in the compartment," She said, then smiled at Valyn. The American returned it, then glanced at her watch- 10:43.
"This tower of a boy is Remus Lupin, the most intelligent guy at Hogwarts." The acne-ridden boy grunted something in what father called Muggle british- the poorest, least understandible accent. His voice wasn't deep naturally, it seemed, but the grunt mad eit nearly as deep as Sirius'. "And, finally, we have Peter, this unfortunately endowed boy over here," The blond stuck a pink tongue out, and Valyn blinked.
She offered her hand to Remus next, who looked at it a moment before shaking it unsurely. His fingers were long, his shake loose. Her father wouldv'e shunned the guy publically for a shake like that.
Next, she shook the hand of Peter, who squeezed her fingers and shook rapidly. She had to wiggle her hand free.
James' had shake had been brisk and unprofessional, but definately not bad- they were meeting in an unprofessional setting. She looked over at Sirius, whose dark eyes all but dared her to attempt to shake his hand. She straightened and offered her small, pale hand.
To her surprise, he took it immediately in his large, callused hand. It was warm and folded againt Valyn's easily, despite the size difference, and she had the impression he was taught to do this. He shook her hand in a warm, envolping shake, unprofessional but not casual. His eyes never broke contact with hers, and he smirked. Valyn swore to herself in that moment she was in love.
But then he released her hand and she refused to hold his gaze. He probably had that affect on many girls. Valyn would not be one of many girls.
"C'mon, Val," Andy said as if Valyn's heart wasn't imploding repeatedly. "Let's go to the compartment."
She nodded, then followed Andy the way the boys had came.