[MINE TO REMEMBER – CHAPTER 01 – BEGINNINGS]
I sit in one of the compartments of the Hogwarts Express by myself, feeling very self conscious and shy of myself. I can hear people moving around the train, noisily looking for their friends, and finding their own compartments. My father, Jonathon Blakes, is outside the window, waving towards me, and I can feel myself tearing up. Again.
Loner, I think to myself, knowing how very true it is. My owl, Myra, hoots in its cage, and I smile at it. It is a pure white color, with the exception of a single black feather on its right side. I can feel my wand through my robe pocket, and pat it for self assurance. It is a blackthorn wand, eleven-and-a-half inches, with a Phoenix feather core, from Olivander's of course. The week after my eleventh birthday, my father had gone with me to get my very first wand at Diagon Alley. I remember going through seven wands before finally finding the right one. I also remember almost burning poor Mr. Olivander's hand on the fifth try.
The train starts to move, and I look out the window at my father again. He smiles reassuringly at me, and mouths, I love you. I press my cheeks to the glass, and I mouth back, I love you too. The Hogwarts Express slowly chugs away, leaving my father and the other sobbing parents behind at the station. I peel myself away from the glass and slump back in the leather seats.
"Bloody hell," I mumble, wondering how I'm going to survive the school year.
Suddenly, the compartment door slide open, and in comes three boys and two girls. "'Ello, mate," says the boy in the front cheerfully. He has dark brown hair, and eyes to match. His mouth is set into a cheery grin, and he plops down on the seat opposite of me, his hands behind his head. The boy behind him sticks his hands into his pocket robes nervously. He has the same colored hair and features as the first boy, but only he has bright green eyes. It's clear that the first boy is his more outgoing brother, and he is the shy brother. The third boy, who is clearly not a third year, holds the blonde girl's hand, and gives her a loving look. Huh.
"I'm James," says the first boy, sticking out his hand.
I stare at it, as if it was some kind of weird specimen.
"James! You're so rude sometimes," scolds the very pretty blonde girl with a faint French accent. The redheaded girl behind her rolls her eyes at him. Then, the blonde girl turns to me and says, "Sorry. He can be a tad rude sometimes. But he's okay the rest of the time. I'm Victoire—" she points to the redhead girl behind her, "—that's Rose—" then she gestures to the shy boy, "—and that's Albus."
"I-I'm Evie," I manage to say. James sticks his tongue out at Victoire.
"You're so uptight, Vicky," he complains lazily.
"And you're a bloody rude prude," she retorts. She gives me an apologetic smile. "Mind if we sit here?" she asks nicely. I nod, and scoot Myra closer to me.
"What a pretty owl," exclaims Rose, examining Myra. "What's her name?"
"Um, Myra," I say.
"Pretty name for a pretty owl," she croons to Myra.
I must have had some kind of strange expression on my face, because then Victoire explains, "She's just really into animals." I nod a little.
"What's your wand?" asks James, eyeing me curiously.
I push down the weird feeling in my stomach and answer, "Blackthorn, with a Thestral hair core."
"That's bloody awesome! Mine's a Dragonheart string; nothing special, really." He blows his hair out of his face, returning the same, weird feeling in my stomach again. Then, he smiles at me, teeth and all. It feels like my stomach is doing flips now.
"Uh, I have to go to the loo," I say abruptly, standing up.
"Do you need help finding the way?" asks Teddy helpfully.
"I'm sure I'll manage," I say, sliding the compartment door open. I shut it close again, and wonder aimlessly around the tiny corridors. I sigh, and use my hand as a comb for my hair. What in bloody hell was the weird, flippy feeling in my stomach?
Feeling confused, I start to turn the corner when suddenly the train lurches forward sharply, making me lurch forward. I stumble around my feet (I always swore I had two left feet) and fall into someone. I let out a yelp of surprise.
Whoever it is catches me in his or her arms, and holds me steadily. They also have a strong grip, I noticed. I look up to see a pair of depthless cloudy gray eyes meet mine. They look back at me with mild curiosity, I think. I cannot tell, which is ironic, because your eyes are supposed to be the windows to your soul.
He has platinum blonde hair, the kind of color that commands your attention, and falls into his face the very similar way as James', but not quite. He has strong and sharp features, and he looks so… serious.
"I-I-I'm sorry," I stutter rapidly. I can feel my cheeks flaming, and struggle to stop it. It's sad to say that I did not stop it enough. "It's just, the train just lurched forward and then I tripped over my feet and I'm pretty sure I have two left feet and I couldn't help it and…" I trail off awkwardly as he watches me with those mysterious eyes of his.
"I'm sorry," I say again, a little more firmly this time. I realize that he's still holding me and say, "Um, you can let go now."
"Right," he says in a smooth voice, way too smooth for an eleven year old, gently letting me go.
"I'm, um, g-going now," I say, cursing myself for my stuttering. He says nothing, but watches me as I head in the opposite direction. As I head around another corner again, I look back to see that he's still watching me with those eyes of his, and my stomach does a strong, somersault.
Those eyes still follow me as I head back to the compartment with the others, and I can't help but wonder what lies beyond those mysterious, gray eyes.