Melody Hawkins was perched uneasily on the edge of her seat in the second to last carriage of the Hogwarts Express. The scarlet steam train reminded her of the model village she so often visited with her parents and her little brother, Charlie. Charlie, being only seven years of age, accepted the concept of magic without hesitation, a gift which seems to dwindle and disappear as children grow. While all of her friends had slowly forgotten about the magic they used to feel so close to, Melody had never given up on the idea. It had always seemed so real to the eleven year old. Even when the girl tried to replace the concept of magic with reason, she felt the whispers of the air around her abuzz with magical energy, and the enchanting tug in her chest which told her to never stop believing.

At first, Melody had believed her Hogwarts letter to be a cruel joke - a reason to laugh at the girl who still believed in magic. That was until a stern faced woman with bottle green robes and dark grey hair scraped back in a tight knit bun appeared at the door. Her lips were drawn in a tight line, but subtle creases in the corners of her fierce emerald eyes allowed for her admiration of humour and jokes to shine though.

The woman, though it was clear was getting on in years, was not one to get in the bad side of. That was clear from the first glance. She had an authority about her, an invisible force which made the young girl unable to even comprehend the idea of back to this lady. The woman had knocked at the door and introduced herself as Minerva (or Professor) McGonagall, headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, entered the house (much to the surprise of Mr and Mrs Hawkins) and explained to the family all about the wizarding world, the two wizarding wars the second of which had ended in 1998, (the year she was born), muggles and Hogwarts itself (including a show of a couple of spells as evidence for the muggle family).

Directions to Diagon Alley were given, and a train ticket for Platform 9 3/4 was placed in the young witch's hand with instructions on how to enter the platform, then the Headmistress plucked her bottle green poined hat off the coat hanger and marched from the house, leaving the family of four with their mouths hanging open.

The eleven year old girl remembered this encounter as she stared absentmindedly at the book in her hands, A Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1. She had skimmed through the book with interest after becoming acquainted with it in Diagonal Alley with the hope that she could make up for her muggle heritage with a little previous knowledge of the speels she would be learning that year. Her chocolate brown hair was messily plaited into two braids which reached an inch or so below her shoulders. Her soft blue eyes saw double as she focused on her thoughts rather than the page in front of her. The girl had never fitted in, always being lightheartedly teased by her friends for believing in magic. She always laughed it off, but it hurt deep down. Now, in the place where she should have found her people, she was still the odd one out, being a muggleborn. Her beliefs about magic had only been confirmed a few weeks prior to today, and now Melody was being sent off to boarding school to learn more about it, hidden in a sea of witches amd wizards who had grown up with magic surrounding them, never knowing any different.

Melody had decided to wait in her compartment until the train filled up. If no one came to join her then she would try to find someone herself. The Headmistress had told her that many people make their first, and often closest, friends on the train in their first year. Melody did not want to lose that opportunity. She sighed as she ran her fingertips over some old markings engraved by the window. It was clear that they had been magically engraved due to the delicate font, each line carved a few years later than the last. It read:

I solemnly swear I am up to no good, 1971

RL, PP, SB, JP

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

Mischief Managed, 1978

It wasn't long before a girl with long, dirty blonde hair complete with a small plait on one side appeared at the compartment door. 'Hi. Um... is it ok if I join you?', the girl asked hesitantly, her brow furrowing in concern.

'Sure! Of course! Come in!' Melody replied, glad to have found someone to share the journey with. 'Is it your first year here too?' the brunette asked, packing her book back into her rucksack.

'Yeah' the other girl smiled with relief. 'Everyone seems to know each other... It's quite scary not knowing what's going on. Oh! I'm Chloe by the way' she smiled, her warm brown eyes softening as she gained confidence.

'I'm Melody' the other girl responded with a smile. Chloe seemed to have a peaceful happiness about her that made it hard for Melody not to relax into conversation. It was as if she glowed an aurora of free spirit and lightheartedness; she was one of those people who never seem to have an ounce of bitterness towards the world and made all those in her presence smile too.

As the train jolted and the engine began to rumble, Melody's already pale face seemed to pale even more in anticipation, mimicking the look of a ghost. 'Are you a muggle born?' she asked after controlling her butterflies, explaining her reasoning as Chloe nodded, looking surprised. 'I am too. The headmistress came soon after my letter was delivered to explain everything about the wizarding world to us. She said that pureblooded wizards tended to know lots of people at the school because many do them are related to each other. Even the half-bloods are bound to know at least someone at Hogwarts through their magical parent'

'She visited me too!' exclaimed Chloe, her eyes wide with the excitement of being able to share the experience. 'She told us about the wars and... What was his name... Vol-something... The Hitler of the wizarding world...' However, her thought process was cut off by a loud bang a few compartments down. Both girls jumped to their feet, eager to see what the cause of the noise was. A couple of heads were sticking out of compartment windows. Some were glancing at the floor in distain, shaking their heads and muttering something about 'bloody first years' before retreating back into their cavern, while others were chuckling at the sight of the two boys rolling around the floor of the corridor in hysterics. Melody frowned in confusion with a hint of amusement evident on her face as Chloe grinned when they saw what what happening. Two eleven year old boys were rolling on the floor, laughing hysterically, clutching their stomachs was they wiped tears from their eyes.

'Would you please keep it down out there?' came the cry of an older girl. 'We have three essays to compete for tomorrow and this really isn't helping my concentration!' The two boys took a few deep breaths in an attempt to control their laughter and searched frantically for a compartment to escape to. They spotted Chloe and Melody turning back into their carriage and decided they were their best shot. Tapping on the glass of the compartment door, the boys looked pleadingly at the girls. Melody opened the door to let them in, her narrowing eyes attempting to read the situation.

The shorter boy was equipped with dirty blond hair and blue-green eyes, a mischievous smile forming on his lips. He seemed daunted by the brown haired girl's studying gaze and answered the question she obviously wanted to know. 'We set dungsbombs off in his bag. It stunk the whole carriage out!' Both he and the other boy (who sported a dark complexion and a head of shoulder length dreadlocks) were chuckling quietly, although their laughter slowly disappeared when the saw the look of confusion on the girls' faces. Melody and Chloe glanced at each other and shrugged.

'Oh, come on! It's worth more than just a shrug!' Piped up the boy with dreads, vaguely offended by the apparent lack of amusement of the girls.

'No! That's not what we meant! It's just, we don't know what dungbombs are. We're both muggleborn' explained Chloe.

A wide grin spread across both of the boys' faces. 'You're both muggleborn?' Repeated the blond boy in a stupour as the two girls nodded. 'Sorry, it's just I've never met any muggleborns our age before. My parents have a few muggleborn friends but they're all old... Well, a dungbomb is basically what it says it is - a bomb that releases a big puff of dung when it goes off. It smells awful...' He continued excitedly.

The brunette girl looked a little grossed out, but the boys could detect a glimmer of a smile beneath the grimace. 'And who's bag exactly did you set these off in?' Melody asked, a little amused. 'And why? We've only been on the train an hour or so! What could have made you dislike this boy so much in an hour?'

'He's a Slytherin' the taller boy exclaimed simply as if that would explain everything. 'Well, he will be anyway. Alcor Norbek's entire family have been Slytherins. His sister's going into third year now. I think their family's close with the Goyle's'.

'Slytherin's one of the four houses, right?' questioned Chloe. 'What's wrong with being in Slytherin?'

Both of the boys' jaws dropped in exasperation. 'What's wrong with Slytherin...' The blond boy sighed dramatically. 'Well, for starters their pricks. They do anything they can to make our lives misery-'

It was Melody's turn to cut in this time, 'Our lives? What do you mean?'

'Gryffindors' lives', the boy replied.

'But we haven't been sorted yet. How do you know you'll be in Gryffindor?'

'Both our fathers were, and their fathers before that. I'm Michael Wood by the way and this is Drake Jordan' said the blonde boy, realising they hadn't been introduced.

'I'm Melody Hawkins'

'Chloe Mallaby'

'But just because your family were Gryffindor it doesn't necessarily mean you will be, right? And what else has Slytherin done that's so awful?' Melody continued.

Drake answered darkly, 'well there was Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Voldemort was a Slytherin back in his day, and almost all of his followers were too. But there wasn't one Gryffindor who fought on his side' he finished with pride.

Michael looked at him with a furrowed brow. 'What about Pettigrew? He was a Gryffindor. If it wasn't for him the Order could have beaten Voldy first time round.'

'He wasn't a real Gryffindor. Otherwise he would have had the courage to fight with the Order rather than being frightened into betraying them.'

Michael seemed to take this as a good enough answer and turned back to the girls who were discussing what the boys had just said and were attempting to make sense of it. Once they both seemed satisfied with their conclusion, Chloe directed Michael and Drake, 'but surely not all Slytherins can be evil. Just because someone values ambition, cunning and intelligence' she said, counting off the traits she could remember on her fingers 'it doesn't make them awful people, or necessarily pureblooded' she added as an afterthought.

'They also value traditionalism. That's why it's the house with the most purebloods' answered Michael easily. 'Don't get me wrong, we don't have anything against purebloods, in fact, we're both pureblooded ourself. We're just against purebloods who think that anyone with a lower blood status than themselves is inferior-'

'-Which Slytherins do' finished Drake.

'I still don't think it's right to judge an entire house based on what some of them are like' ventured Chloe. Her confidence in her statement forced the boys to think deeply about her words. 'I'm sure there are many muggleborns in Slytherin-'

'And it can't be anywhere near as awful as it used to be during the wars. The Headmistress told us that people don't care in the slightest what your blood status is anymore, and those who do keep it to themselves' Chloe commented.

The boys were watching, wide-eyes as the girls pinpointed their mistakes. With their eyes already bulging out of their heads, it was a surprise to see that they could grow even more when Melody proposed, 'I think you should go back and apologise to that poor Norbek person.' Chloe stifled a laugh at the looks on the boys' faces, before Melody continued, a mischievous grin forming. 'I mean, if he does something to you then obviously you have every right to torture him with as many dungbombs as possible, but until then maybe you should work on making friends, not enemies.'

And with that the two girls ushered the boys out of the compartment and down the corridor to reconcile with Alcor Norbek, a long-limbed, hollow-cheeked, black haired boy who smelled rather potently of manure.

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