Chapter 1
Kings Cross Station. One very busy place. If you didn't know your way around you could get lost. Amid the many adults and baggages was a girl. No more than 11. Raven haired and pale green eyed. If people were to look down they would think that she didn't belong then they would be rightly so. She had many packages on her trolley and no one to help carry them. She looked lost and alone, which she usually was. Her name was Iris Peterson.
At home everyone despised her for what she was. She was born into a muggle family, but she was a witch. Her so called 'family' treated her like devil spawn. Her deepest desire was to feel loved. To feel needed. To feel special.
It had started with levitating teacups and color changing hair. Her cousins had been annoying her and she had become really upset because they did this every time they visited. The teacups that the adults were going to use were flown out of the kitchen and kept bonking her cousin's on the heads. Her hair had changed color as well so they knew it was her fault. She has gotten better at controlling it so her hair only changes color on extreme emotions. That was the day she was marked as an outcast.
Iris was walking around Kings Cross Station looking for any sign for anything magical. Nothing seemed magical so far unless she counted the infinite amount of bogies the man next to her seemed to have. She would always circle around to look for the platform again and she would see him with his finger up his nose and he had been doing this for 3 hours straight. She finally stopped to rest and coincidentally she had come to the pillar in between platforms 9 and 10 as far away from the Bogies Man as she came to call him. She pulled her trolley to a halt and put her back against the pillar. That was her first mistake. Her second mistake was trying to turn around which caused her to trip over her feet.
She closed her eyes, resigning herself to her fate and it came as much surprise when she didn't fall face first into concrete, but instead felt a certain warmth around her. When she finally had the courage to peel her eyes open she gasped at the sight.
An eleven year old boy had caught her in his arms and was looking at her with concerned grey eyes. Her hair then turned to a pale pink very much like the rest of her face. Iris tried to scramble out of his arms as fast as she could but that only caused her to trip once more and even deeper into his arms. He had a faint smile on his face. When he spoke it came out in a velvety voice, "I'm Sirius, Sirius Black." Iris's mouth would open and close but no words would fall out. As quickly as she could without tripping, again, she managed to take off with her trolley, that had fallen through the pillar with her, before the boy, Sirius, could even comprehend what had happened. She left him with a trail of dust and the faint memory of pale green eyes. If only she turned around she could have seen the smile that stretched across his face.