It was raining. Again. Two months of minimal rain-no matter how hot it became in the United Kingdom it still managed to rain three quarters of the year- had caused her to long for the change of season that would bring with it more of the natural occurrence. When people said that it shouldn't be able to rain during summer, they obviously were thick headed gits who hadn't lived in the UK. All of those people, the kind that believed only their opinions and things mattered, were bloody annoying in her opinion. Not that she would ever vocalize it so easily. Probably the only person she would ever tell was her best friend, who always seemed to make her shy self disappear- if only for a few moments. Around others...well, the sixth year was still having some issues.
Perspiration soaked her dirty blonde, making the strands weigh a fraction more. That resulted in her hair falling from the bun she'd secured it in, having used a spare paintbrush to substitute for a hair tie. Locks dripping with water tumbled down her back and plastered themselves to her face, neck and the material of her shirt covering her shoulder blades.
Her wand was tucked behind her right ear- it's constant home- and her boring "London sky" grey eyes surveyed the roads and buildings surrounding King's Cross Station. Cars zoomed past, causing water that had gathered on the concrete to fly up and soak her form even more.
Cat Hunter was waiting for the infernal traffic lights to turn green, signaling that she could finally cross the road without being in danger of being run over and killed dead. The traffic lights, which in her opinion were evil pieces of shitty technology that had been created to be the bane of her existence, were clearly taking a thousand years, making her bounce on the balls of her feet impatiently. She'd overslept that morning and was already horribly late. A pocket watch that she continued to pull out from her pocket assisted her in stressing over the time even more. Being tardy...that was just one of the many things her and her best mate had in common. They'd served countless detentions and McGonagall had even told the pair that they'd nearly sat more than a group that called themselves "The Marauders". Upon hearing that, her friend had proudly proclaimed that he was related to one of the members in the group. Cat remained indifferent upon the subject.
Finally, the lights flashed the beautiful, beautiful green that she's been waiting for and Cat hurridly pushed her trolley- carrying her trunk and small tawny owl, Patrick. And before you ask, Cat did NOT in fact name the owl, Patrick. Her grandad had given it to her when he'd found out she had been accepted into Hogwarts. The owl had belonged to his sister briefly.
People who knew her always found it exceedingly amusing to know for a fact that Cat could barely stand her namesake and proffered the company of birds a whole lot more.
As per usual, the station was packed with muggles all hurrying in who knows which direction so that they could catch their trains. It didn't surprise her in the least to know that they were staring intently, but the attention still caused Cat to keep her head down. Every time she went to and from the station, she expected the odd, blank looks that she received but they still got to her. It made her pale skin feel as if thousands of slimy, disgusting bugs were crawling all over it and her stomach felt like the ocean in the middle of a raging, angry storm. As a result of the nausea that overcame her so suddenly and without any warning whatsoever, she found herself hyperventilating, which in turn just made her feel terribly lightheaded. Platforms nine and ten began to spin at an unimaginably fast rate and Cat found herself clutching onto the trolley so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her eyes fell shut in an attempt to keep herself from passing out on the platform- an attempt to keep herself under control. But- for what seemed to be for Merlin's own sick amusement- the attempt only seemed to make her feel worse; as if she was on a broomstick. A broomstick? Well, that sounded alright. Enjoyable almost. Well wrong. Cat felt like she was on a broomstick that was spinning at top speed while it hurtled back down to Earth. Brilliant, huh?
She felt her knees shaking, as well as her hands. All the sounds around her, usually loud and dominating, sounded far off. It was as if she was hearing everything through a horrifically terrible landline. With a little shout escaping her lips, Cat's knees gave out and buckled, causing her to hold onto the trolley even tighter for support. She was shaking and hyperventilating violently until someone having shouted what sounded like her name made her pause and crane her ears to listen. After a moment of listening, Cat decided she must've been hallucinating. Well, that was until she felt cold hands, slightly damp from the rain outside, clutch at her waist as her fingers loosened and slipped off of the trolley. The person who had grabbed her pulled her back into their chest and then wrapped their arms round her trembling body properly. Strong and tight. Then they whispered something into her ear, their voice easily coheratable above the "far-off" sounds of the other people. The voice, slightly husky and oh so familiar was a voice she could've recognized in any situation.
Her best mate.
"Cat. Hey Kitty Cat. Just calm down. I've got'cha. I'm here." and without another word, he scooped her into his arms- as if he did it fairly often, and he did- and carried her onto platform nine and three quarters. The whole time,, he murmured to her softly. None of the actual words processed through to her, but just the sound of his familiar voice calmed her down enough so that she could succumb to the comforting ignorance of the blackness.
When Cat finally opened her eyes, the first thing she focused on was large hazel eyes that were scanning her face,concern reflected in their deepest depths . Behind her hazel eyed hero, slightly concealed by the fog on the platform were four people, all craning over his shoulder to see if she was okay. Two of the onlookers were his parents and the remaining two his younger siblings. A warm hand on her face made her eyes lock back onto the man in front of her. "Hey...are you okay, Kitty Cat?" If he said that at any other time, she would've yelled at him, but in that moment she just nodded slightly and looked around her. She was sitting on a large trunk, made from thick brown leather, which was on top of a trolley. It wasn't her trunk. This trunk was worn looking and had cracks in it, and in slightly faded gold lettering was the initials. J. S. P.
James Sirius Potter.
They'd been best friends since they'd met during their first year on the train. James had been loud,confident- underlying that the tiniest touch of fear- and funny. People loved him instantly. Cat on the otherhand had been timid, shy and too out of her element to try and make friends. It had started off as an odd friendship. It was kind of like James was just being her friend out of pure pity, in Cat's opinion. James had always had a very large hero complex. Over the years, Cat had become more comfortable around James and after a bit more time, his extended family.
Finally, Cat looked back at the man and answered his aged question.
"I...I think so. I think I'm okay." her answer was soft. Okay meant that she currently wasn't about to have one of her episodes. Platform nine and three quarters had slowly become familiar to her so that she felt safe there. James nodded slowly and extended to his full height, making Cat have to crane her neck upwards to meet his eyes. Instantly, she regretted it. His hazel eyes looked angry, as if they were molten fire. He looked as if he was about to ask something but Harry stepped in, his hand coming to rest on his son's shoulder. "James. Enough. She's been through a lot." His voice was stern as his eyes flickered from James to Cat and then back to James. It seemed that James wasn't in the mood to listen to his father and asked the question anyway. "Dad. No. She should've come with us!" James let his eyes flicker back to Cat, making her flinch. He rarely got angry but when he did...he definitely frightened her. "You should've come with us! You shouldn't have gone back to that bloody farm!" He knelt down in front of her again, balancing on the balls of his feet. The way his hand was raised made her flinch away quickly, expecting to be hit. It wasn't like Jamed would ever do that to her but the people who worked on the farm didn't have time to ask questions and instead resolved things with violence. James' fingertips- as light and delicate as a butterfly's wing- trailed across the bruise she knew currently decorated her right cheekbone.
Cat looked past James, ignoring the deep look of saddness in his eyes. She didn't need his, or anyone's pity. Cat saw his mother, father- with his jaw clenched slightly- Albus and Lily move a few steps away to begin moving the other's trunks onto the train.
"Oh Cat...not again..." James' whisper made her eyes move back to meet his. "You know you're always welcome at my house, Kitty Cat." The nickname, no matter how many times she huffed, rolled her eyed or told him not to call her that, James still stuck by it.
"I know that James. But I can't stay at yours ALL summer. Also, I was visiting my brothers in Romania for the majority. I was only at the hell hole fora couple days." She saw his usually light eyes darken slightly so she hurried to add. "Really only twenty seven hours."
Cat could see James reigning in his anger. His jaw was clenched tight when he said, his voice forced into a tone of fake happiness. "Enjoyed the dragons, eh, Kitty Cat?" She nodded enthusiastically, so glad to be on a different subject that she ignored the annoying use of the nickname. Taking her hand, James pulled her up from the trolley . Her two older brothers, Anthony and Jonathon worked in Romania. With dragons.
"Heck yeah! Anth took me so close, I could see all the tiny details." She smiled wistfully, pushed her messy hair from her eyes and James genuinely smiled back.
"I want to see those paintings, Hunter. No excuses."Cat bumped her shoulder into his arm- her short height making her shoulder about an inch and a half lower than his- and she hefted her rather large canvas bag over one shoulder. Harry and Albus were busy, both of them had already put two of the four trunks onto the train.
"Of course you do. The question is, will I show you?" Cat glanced up at him, a mischievous smile gracing her face while her eyes twinkled happily.
An eyebrow raised in a challenge, James rushed forward, seized Cat and threw her over his shoulder. She let out a mighty scream and started banging her fists on his back. "Let me down! Let me down!" But James- an extraordinary git in her opinion- ignored her protests.
"Bye mum!" James called and he proceeded to walk towards his mother, peck her on the cheek and then straightened up, giving his father a wave. "Bye dad! I'll see you at Christmas!"
Cat could see Ginny shaking her head at her son, a smile on her face. "Don't give the girl too much trouble, Jamesie!" Cat couldn't see his face, but she knew him well enough to realize he probably looked insufferably smug and amused.
"Oh don't worry mum! I will!" zjames said too low for his mother to hear as he carried her onto the gleaming scarlet train. Knowing there was nothing she could do, Cat just waved to the Potter's then resumed banging her fists onto James's back. If she couldn't do anything, she wasn't going down without a fight. Merlin, it was going to be an insufferably long year.