"Alicia! Breakfast", my mother calls from the kitchen and I groan as I turn over in my bed. Mornings. Why must they start so bloody early? It was almost as if they did it on purpose. I roll over, determined to never leave my warm, comfy, wonderful bed because I'm in love with it and it loves me too and we should never be apart. My stomach growls and I change my mind. I should never be apart from food. Food was my true love. My bed was just my nightly affair.
"Coming!" I shout as I roll out of bed and drop to the floor. My mother always makes fun of me for doing that but it is a very effective way to get out of the bed. Least effort required. Somewhere here on the floor I had a pair of trousers, I just know it. Ah there, found them. A green pair of trainers. Still on the floor I pull them over my feet and up to my hips. Then I am confronted with the reality of actually getting up, my least favourite part of the day. I sigh and slowly pull myself to my feet. As soon as I'm upright I sprint out of the room, down the stairs, past the gazillion photos of my parents and I and into the kitchen. I sit down, grab my knife and fork and look at my mother with big eyes.
"Food?"
She turns around and laughs.
"It's right here honey."
She drops a plate full of delicious looking hash browns and sausages in front of me and sits down in the seat across from me. I wait for her to sit down then I throw myself at my food, stuffing as much of it into my mouth as I can.
"Are you excited?"
It takes a moment for the question to register in my food oriented brain and I look up at her questioningly.
"You do remember that you're leaving for Hogwarts today, right?"
Suddenly I'm not hungry at all. I swallow what's in my mouth and stare down at my plate. Hogwarts. Most children are probably going nuts with excitement, but I am very… apprehensive about going there. I haven't told my mother, but the dreams have come back. I've had these dreams all my life and no one can explain where they come from. My parents used to take me to the doctors, trying to figure them out, but they just gave me sleeping potions. I've stopped taking them now for almost two years, but whenever I'm anxious about something they come back and haunt me. I don't describe them to people anymore, it scares them too much to have a child say such things.
"Honey?"
There is concern on her face and I look up, a fake smile on mine.
"I'm a bit scared, but I'm sure it will be fine", I say hoping it will stop her from worrying. She leans across the table and takes my hand in hers and gives it a soft squeeze.
"What are you afraid of?"
I stare back at the table, not wanting her to see my expression
"They'll make fun of me."
She sighs. This has been a problem all my life. I'm an albino so my hair is almost completely white and I'm paler than most, but my eyes, at least, are a beautiful shade of blue. That always comforted me when I felt ugly. My eyes I liked. They seem… wise somehow. It sounds silly, coming from an eleven year old, but I'd always been told that I was wise beyond my years. Well… my mother says so and she'd know. She's the most wonderful woman there is.
"And what do we do when people make fun of us?"
I give a small smile. She always says the same thing.
"We give them our best smile and pity them for their narrow-mindedness."
"Exactly. No one has the power to bring you down but you yourself."
I nod and get up to give her a hug. My mother is amazing and when I grow up I hope to be just as kind and gentle as she is. We finish our breakfast and she sends me upstairs to get changed.
"No Lisha, green trainers are not proper clothes."
"Hmpf."
But I change, because I know she's right. She usually is. Life is already hard on her without me adding to it. It's just the two of us. My father died during the last war. He was a good man, that's what my mother always says and if she says so it must be true. He looks like a kind man in the photos I've seen of him. Tall and blonde with green eyes. I get my blue eyes from my mother. Who I owe my snowy complexion and hair to is a mystery to me. Neither of them have it, but my Mother claims that she had an Albino great grandmother, so that must be it.
"We gotta go!" she calls from downstairs and I quickly shove the rest of my belongings into my trunk. It won't shut. Rats! I try it again, this time sitting on top of it and after a couple of bounces up and down the lid shuts.
"Coming!"
I have never been to London and I have most definitely never seen the Hogwarts express. Both my parents are wizards and I've grown up with magic, but my mother made a point of living humbly. She refuses to get a houself, saying that it's no better than slavery. Part of me agrees, the other part wishes I didn't have to clean all the dishes myself. The one time I brought it up she told me that I'd better drop it because it was one of the only things she and my father ever fought about. So I never brought it up again. The train is magnificent! I stare in awe at all the students and parents hurrying around. There's a large family to my right with a bunch of redheads. The Weasley's. My mother has told me about them. She works with their father, Arthur I think, from time to time at the ministry.
"Alright. Here we are."
She bends down and gives me a kiss on my forehead. I squirm because we're in public and I don't want everyone to see. To my left there is a pale blonde boy trying to escape the same fate. For a moment I think he's an albino too, but then I notice that he's not nearly as pale as I am and that his parents are both equally blonde. We both tear away from our mother's at the same time and head for the train. I turn around.
"Love you mum."
"Love you too honey."
Then I follow the blonde boy onto the train.
I'm not sure what exactly it is, but he seems oddly familiar. I'm so distracted by trying to figure out where I know him from that I don't pay attention and bump into him as he enters the train.
"Ouch"
I rub my nose as the boy turns around.
"Are you blind?" he asks in a haughty voice and I frown as he looks down at me. He's a head taller than me and that combine with his arrogant expression makes me feel like a tiny little bug.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you, but you did stop rather abruptly." I say as way of explanation.
"I can stop whenever I want to. I'm surprised you didn't float right through me though, you look as if you could."
I feel myself blush. He's not the first to compare me to a ghost and probably not the last, but it still stings every time. I hate it. He gives me a smirk and turns around, continuing down isle. I stand there for a moment, feeling embarrassed and stupid, then I remember what my mother said and smile. It was my first day and that annoying boy wasn't going to ruin it for me. I found a compartment with a chubby boy and a girl with big bushy brown hair.
"May I join you?" I ask nervously.
They look up and nod, the bushy haired girl holding out her hand.
"I am Hermione Granger. First year." Then she points to the chubby boy. "This is Neville Longbottom, also a first year."
The boy give an awkward little wave.
"Alicia Morgan, but I prefer Lisha. Nice to meet you."
"Morgan, I've read about that name in Wizards Famous Geneology."
I look up at the bushy haired girl, a frown on my face.
"Ok?"
Obviously this is not the response the girl was hoping for. She sighs and, in a very condescending demeanour, goes on to explain to me that the Morgan family is one of the oldest british wizarding families and that there are legends leading us back to Merlin's times. Once she's done I simply shrug and turn towards the chubby boy.
"Neville was it?", I ask, hoping I got the name right. He nods. Lucky me.
"Are you excited?"
I know I'm being rude by ignoring Hermione, or whatever that strange name was, but I really don't know how to deal with her. She seems nice, in her own way, but she kinda makes me uncomfortable. She on the other hand doesn't seem to notice that I'm trying to ignore her and jumps into the conversation before Neville even has the chance to open his mouth.
"I am very excited", she says importantly. "I'm the first witch in my family, and my parents were both rather shocked, you know? But excited of course, magic is truly fascinating and I cannot wait to learn more about it. I've read all the first year books of course, but still, there must be so much more and it's only theory so far, so I cannot wait to find out if the practical approach is the same. I am a bit nervous about the sorting ceremony of course. I read that the house you get sorted into can have an influence for the rest of your life. Seems a bit silly to me, I mean we are only elven and will change so much. Still it is truly fascinating, the system I mean…"
Five minutes later she is still rattling on and my former discomfort turns into annoyance. Neville just sits there, staring at her with a mixture of fear and admiration in his eyes. As I look of him I suddenly see him as he will be. A grown man, strong and bulky, full of confidence as he charges the Death Eaters and is blasted to bits. I shake my head to get rid of the disturbing image and refocus on the chubby nervous boy in front of me.
"Alicia, are you alright?"
Hermione has finally stopped her monologue and looks at me with concern on her face.
"You've gone awfully pale."
"I'm fine. Just nervous myself", I say with a shaky voice and what I hope is a smile. Not entirely sure. My eyes keep wandering over to Neville and I feel a cold shudder run down my spine. I have no idea where that image came from, but I know that it's not just my imagination. It happened, or will happen, I don't know which.
"I'm nervous too", the boy says, giving me a gentle smile intended to make me feel better. I promise myself there and then that I will watch after this boy.
"What houses do you think you'll be in?" Hermione asks.
"I don't really know… my gran reckons I'll be a Hufflepuff on account of being so useless and all", Neville stutters as he looks down. Hermione opens her mouth to say something but I cut her off.
"I think you'll be a Gryffindor", I say and give the surprised boy a smile. I think about the older Neville, throwing himself into battle and add. "You look like the sort of person who has quite a lot of courage hidden in your heart."
He blushes and stares down at his hands, but I can tell he's smiling. Hermione gives me an odd look and then a small smile.
"I agree with Lisha. And I personally hope I'll be in Gryffindor too, or Ravencalw…I can't quite make up my mind about those two."
"I think you'd be good in both places", I say with a smile, slowly warming up to the girl. She talks a lot and is a knowitall, but the way she treats Neville makes me think that she's a good person. She smiles back at me.
"And you?"
I think for a moment. I've discussed this with my mother at length, but I still don't know. Each of the four houses has a lot to offer. All four qualities should not be dismissed.
"I don't know", I say truthfully. "I hope I go where I'm needed most."
Suddenly Neville jerks up and looks at us, eyes wide.
"Where's Trevor?!"
I furrow my brow in confusion. Trevor? Who's Trevor.
"Who's Trevor", Hermione asks.
"My toad! I completely forgot that I let him out his cage for the train ride and now I can't find him anymore. Gran is going to kill me if I lose him."
Tears spring into the boys eyes and I wonder if I spoke to soon about the whole Gryffindor thing.
"We'll help you find him", I say and Hermione nods.
After a thorough search of the compartment one thing is clear: Trevor is not here. So we decide to branch out and go looking for him. Hermione and Neville head right, I head left. I knock on the next compartment door and slide it open.
"Excuse me, have any of you seen a toad?"
My question is answered with a burst of laughter.
"Oh look at that. The ghost girl has lost her toad."
I feel myself blush and turn towards the voice. It's the blonde boy from earlier.
"I'm not a ghost", I say, knowing fully well that that isn't the best comeback in the world.
"Aw, did I hurt your feelings. I shall cry you a river."
I clench my fists and ignore him, turning to the others. There are two rather large boys who don't look like they might be half-troll and a girl with black hair and a vaguely pig like face.
"Have any of you seen a toad? My friend seems to have lost his."
They all smirk as they shake their heads.
"Thanks", I say and close the compartment behind me. Only then do I let my anger show. Stupid brat! Who does he think he is? The Queen of England? I huff and stomp down the corridor to halfheartedly continue my search for Trevor. After what seems like too long to me I give up and return to my compartment. Hermione and Neville are back and he's holding Trevor in his hands, relief on his face.
"We found him."
Oh really? I hadn't noticed! I bit my tongue to keep myself from snapping at him. It's not his fault that I'm in a bad mood. No one can decide how you feel but you, my mother's voice sounds in my head and I take a deep breath to calm myself down.
"Guess who met?" Hermione asks excitedly and I give her a questioning look.
"Harry Potter!"
Harry Potter. I know the name of course, everyone does, but I'd always had an odd combination of feelings towards the boy who I'd heard so many stories about. The one who destroyed You-Know-Who. The wizarding world's hero. Somehow the story never filled me with awe, but with a deep sadness. I couldn't explain it.
"Oh cool. What's he like?" I hear myself ask.
"Nice I suppose. He didn't seem all that special to me, just like a normal elven-year old boy."
"Well he is just a normal elven-year old boy" I state wondering how this fact could have gone past that smart girl.
"Well of course", she says with a sigh, "But I've read so much about him. Did you know that there are thirty-seven theories about what happened that night? And none of them are conclusive."
I don't know why but this conversation makes me feel uncomfortable, as if she were speaking about a personal issue, which I know is ridiculous. So I just shrug and look out the window. The scenery is beautiful, lush and green and my mind begins to wander until I slowly drift off to sleep.
I am standing outside my house, it's burning and I know that my mother is still inside. I can hear her scream. I run, trying to get to her, but strong arms grab me, pull me back.
"Let me go!" I shout.
"It's too late", Draco says as he pulls me away from the flames. "You can't help her anymore. If you storm in there now all you'll do is die with her."
"I don't care! I have to save her!"
"Sarah wouldn't want you to die!"
And with those words he apparates, tearing me with him.
"No!", I gasp and sit up.
"Lisha? Are you alright?"
I look around in confusion. Where am I? Where is Draco? My mother! I have to… slowly the dream fades and I remember where I am. I'm on the Hogwarts express with Hermione and Neville.
"I had a bad dream.", I say weakly.
"What was it about", Neville asks innocently.
"I … I can't really remember. It's all fuzzy now. But it was horrible… I think, I think my house was on fire."
I shudder as I remember the cold horrible feeling of despair. Suddenly I have the urge to talk to my mother, to make sure she's alright. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and turn towards Hermione. She gives me a gentle smile.
"It was just a dream."
I smile back at her. She's right, it was just a dream, but somehow it didn't feel like a dream at all. The train gives off a loud whistle.
"We're here", Hermione shrieks and I find myself joining in with her excitement, my dream forgotten.