Chapter One ‡Aboard the Hogwarts Express

"I hate him, Mum. I hate him. I really do."

"Who do you hate?"

"Seamus, of course."

"Seamus Finnigan?"

"Who else?"

"Oh, Bridey, stop being silly. Of course you don't hate him!" Mum picked up the Daily Prophet satisfied that the conflict that was resolved. She wasn't even going to bother asking what was wrong. Just as well anyway. She'd just tell Mrs. Finnigan, who would yell at Seamus, and then he'd come over to taunt me. And I didn't want to have to deal with him. Not ever again.

"I'm not being silly," I grumbled. Dropping my dishes in the sink, I stormed out of the kitchen and up to my room. It was a disaster area up there. Books and clothes were thrown everywhere. I didn't know how it had happened. I had started out with everything neatly organized. All of my books had been in a stack—organized by size—and clothes were in neat piles on one side of the books. Other school supplies were in my cauldron on the other side of the books. I had been working on getting some other things together when the mess happened.

The beginnings of it were my fault, I'll admit it. I got a bit carried away in looking for my things and…well, things were thrown. But the rest I blamed solely on Seamus.

His mum had sent him over to help me pack. She thought that he could give me some ideas on what I would need for my first year at Hogwarts, since he had already been through it and all. Naturally, I wasn't totally disgusted by the idea. I was having difficulty with what I should bring, and Seamus wasn't totally useless in that area. And it would be nice to see him again. I hadn't seen him much in the past two years, what with him being away at school and all.

But he had changed—changed in ways I couldn't even name. He wasn't as sweet as he used to be; he seemed even more restless. But, worst of all, he never had time for me anymore.

So, when he came over, I was pretty pleased. I heard him trudging up the stairs and ran to greet him, smiling foolishly with my heart skipping in my chest absurdly. It hadn't been that long since I had seen him—he lived next door after all. It just felt like it had been ages; he had spent most of the summer either with friends or at a beach house on the west coast.

"Seamus!" I had breathlessly exclaimed.

"Hello Bridey," he had greeted shortly. He smiled—a softer, diluted shadow of his grin—and nodded. I had been expecting a hug, though I would never initiate it myself.

He didn't either.

"Let's get to work then, eh? I was going to go for a ride before dinner."

Seamus took no notice of the organization of my things. He had never cared for order. All I could do was watch in horror as he threw things around, deciding for me what stayed and what went. He boldly started to rummage through my drawers, which was where I drew the line. I stormed up to him and grabbed his arm. With a strong tug, I yanked it from my drawer.

"What do you think you're doing?" I had demanded.

"I'm helping you!"

"No, you're not! You're trashing my room. I see you're in a rush to go to your last little flight around the country, so just go. I don't need you. I can finish this up on my own."

"Bride—"

"No. Just leave! Ever since you went to Hogwarts and got sorted into Gryffindor, you haven't been the same. You've been…you've been cocky! And you've been obnoxious. Seamus, I am not going to put up with it. So just go, and I will see you at school." And I turned my back on him.

He didn't say anything, just walked away. Once he was gone I slammed the door and kicked the wall. He was so frustrating! I hated him.

Now, and hour later, I stood facing my room, a frown set in my face. The idea of having to clean this all up was irksome. I hadn't even made the mess—Seamus had. There was no way he would ever come back to tidy up, though. Not that I would even want him to. I was never speaking to him again—I was determined.

Me and Seamus Finnigan—we were finished.

"Bridey! Come on, let's go!"

"I'll be right there, Pa!"

It was the first of September—the day I left for Hogwarts. I could feel the anticipation tickling my stomach. I had been waiting for this day for years. I must have read Hogwarts, A History a dozen times to prepare myself for this. I was ready.

I took one last look around my room. It would be my last time seeing it until Christmas. It was clean—all clean. I had spent a decent amount of time straightening out the mess Seamus had created for me, and then some more fixing up what hadn't been just right before.

"Bridey! The Finnigans are waiting for us!"

I growled at the mention of the name. Of course, I had nothing against Mr. or Mrs. Finnigan; they were like family to me. I was still very bothered with their son.

With a sigh, I glanced into my mirror for a final check-up. My light brown hair was pinned back out of my round face, a habit which I had picked up when my hair started to constantly fall in my eyes. I hated things to obscure my vision. And besides, I rather liked my eyes. They were a little on the large side, but they weren't buggish, and they had a nice, dark blue color—almost indigo, I liked to imagine.

"Bridey!"

"Coming, Mum!"

I turned to leave my room when my eyes caught on a silver flash in my reflection, followed by a glint of green. The claddagh. I was tempted to rip it off my neck and throw it in the trash, but something stopped me—a warm sense of nostalgia. I carefully touched the charm, closing my eyes to recall that day. I remembered it all so clearly still, although it was already four years ago.

"We are going to be late if you don't get down here right now!"

I ripped myself out of my mind and sprinted out of my room and down the stairs, taking them two at a time. My parents were waiting by the front door impatiently. Outside, the Finnigans were waiting by a car.

"Why don't we just go by Floo Powder?" I asked. I was dreading sitting in a car with Seamus for any length of time.

"You don't want to get all dirty, do you?"

I looked down at the clothes I had put so much thought into wearing; when I looked up, my mum was looking at me knowingly. "That's why," she said. "There is a Portkey waiting for the six of us a mile or so away. It will take us to King's Cross."

"Oh, okay." I cast a quick look at Seamus. He looked tall, something I hadn't had the opportunity to notice the other day. He had grown his sandy hair out so it spilled across his forehead. He was only thirteen, but once again, the age difference between us seemed remarkable. Was it really only two years?

The car was rather cramped. We had to fit six people in five seats. Seamus and his dad sat up front with the driver; I got stuck sitting on my father's lap with his arms wrapped tight around me like a seat belt.

"What House do you think I'll be in?" I wondered. I already had some ideas—or hopes, rather—but I wanted to see what everyone else thought.

"Maybe you'll be in Hufflepuff like me and your Auntie Fiona were," Mum suggested, smiling brightly at the thought. She had been suggesting that hopefully for years. For whatever reason, the idea of me following in the footsteps of her and Mrs. Finnigan really appealed to her. Apparently, the two had had great fun in their house in their day and Mum felt like it would do for me.

Well, I hoped not.

"Oh, don't be silly Oriella," Mrs. Finnigan laughed. "Bridey's too smart for the Hufflepuff lot. Wouldn't you agree, Patrick?"

Mr. Finnigan turned around. "Well, I don't really know enough about the houses to judge, do I? I do agree Bridey is quite bright, though, if that helps." He glanced over at me and winked; I smiled gratefully back at him.

"Wouldn't it be funny," Seamus began, turning in his seat to look at me, "if the Sorting Hat couldn't find anywhere to put you and you had to be sent back home?"

"Funny, I heard that almost happened to you," I retorted coolly. Seamus's face fell and his ears turned red. "Didn't the Sorting Hat sit on your head for a minute before putting you in Gryffindor?"

"For your information, it was only nearly a minute! And that was only because there was a lot to consider!"

"Bridey, be nice," my dad whispered into my hair.

"Fine," I grumbled. "What house do you think I'll be in, Daddy?"

"I think you could be in any House you wanted. Though, really," he leaned in close to whisper, "you'd do best in Ravenclaw, my little brain."

"Oh, I hope so!"

"Okay, Bridey. This is it."

"Oh, Ma, there's no need to get all teary. I'll be back for Christmas."

"I know, but…Well, it just seems that you have grown up so fast. I swear, just the other day you were—"

The whistle sounded—one minute until departure.

"Mum, I have to go. I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetie. Brian! Brian, she has to go!"

My dad excused himself from conversation with the Finnigans and came over to say goodbye. I wrapped my arms tightly around his middle and he gave me a tight squeeze. Then, kissing the top of my head, he stepped back.

"You better get going there, Bridey. Don't forget to tell us where you get sorted."

"I won't. Love you, Daddy."

"Love you too."

I climbed onto the train and the whistle blew again. "Say goodbye to the Finnigans for me!" I called out the window.

"Of course, of course! Oh, sweetie, I forgot to give you this." Mum pulled a folded bit of cloth from her jacket pocket. "Hang it up in your room! And be careful!"

"I will. Thanks, Mum!"

The train began to pull away from the platform. Mum and Pa continued to wave until we rounded the corner, and I couldn't see them anymore. I sighed and turned away from the window. Now I just needed to find a seat. Grabbing onto my trunk, I slowly made my way down the corridor in search of a friendly face.

There was one compartment with just two girls in it. I hesitated before the sliding door. It was impossible to tell their characters by their looks so I had no way of judging whether or not they would let me in.

I had to try though.

Taking a deep breath I slid open the door. "Hello," I said shyly. "May I sit here?"

One of the girls looked up. She had long, dark, curly hair and pale green eyes. She stared at me for a moment, and I was afraid that she was going to slap me. She had a sort of mean looking face. Her lips were large and pouty, and her eyes expressed no emotion.

Finally, she replied, "Sure," with a simple shrug.

I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

"Thanks." I dragged myself the rest of the way into the compartment and slid the door shut behind me. "I'm Bridey, by the way."

"Sandra Abrams," the dark-haired girl replied, extending her hand to me. "Pleasure to meet you."

"You, too," I said, giving her dainty hand a firm shake. Then I turned towards the other girl.

She was sort of mousy, I guess you could say. She had long, thick, brown hair pulled back with a headband. Her face was delicate looking—thin, but soft. She had big, brown, doe-like eyes. She seemed to be very…small.

However, when she stood up I realized how wrong I was. While she did have a slight frame, she was actually quite tall, especially for someone I assumed to be eleven, like me.

"I'm Emma Tooley," she said, holding out her hand. I took it and gave it a shake.

"It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too." Emma sat back down and I took the seat beside her. She was much more approachable than Sandra.

"So, Bridey," Sandra began, flicking her hair over her shoulder, "are you a first year?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Me, too!" Emma exclaimed. "I'm so nervous for the Sorting! Sandra was just telling me about it. Everyone sees—it's so embarrassing."

"Sandra was telling you?" I turned towards the dark haired girl. "What year are you in?"

"I'm a second year."

"What house are you in?"

"Slytherin," she answered, defiantly sticking her chin in the air, as if daring either of us to mock her house. I had heard terrible things about the house from Seamus, but I didn't dare say anything. Besides, they couldn't all be bad in there. Hogwarts, A History would have mentioned something if they were.

"Do you like it there?" I asked. It seemed like a safe question.

"Yes. It really isn't so bad as everyone says. Or at least, I don't think so."

"Well, that's good." I really had nothing else to say on the subject. I didn't want to be in Slytherin, and I wasn't particularly interested in what it was like there. So, turning to Emma, I said "What House do you think you'll be in?"

"Oh, I don't know! I hope I'm in Gryffindor though. They seem so…so…"

"Prattish?" I suggested. I was still bitter about Seamus. He had also hoped to be in Gryffindor, "where dwell the brave of heart." That was what had gotten him. He wanted everyone to know about his courage.

Emma's face fell, and I immediately felt bad. But before I could apologize, Sandra said, "Do you want to be in Slytherin?"

"Oh. Well…no. I just have a…neighbor in Gryffindor, and he is very…Well, I am angry with him at the moment. Sorry, Emma. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. They aren't all like that there, I'm sure."

"It's okay," she said, smiling softly. "I'm not very brave, anyway. And the other Houses all seem nice, too. So where do you want to be sorted?"

"I'm hoping Ravenclaw. Nothing else really seems to fit for me."

"Oh, I know how you feel. I don't know if any of them really fit for me."

"I'm sure one of them does. Don't worry. We all fit somewhere."

Despite my words, I couldn't help worrying. What if Seamus was right? What if there was nowhere for me?

I didn't want to think about it.

It was a dreary day outside, though I didn't really notice. It was just the sort of weather I was used to—cloudy and rainy. It wasn't until after we had finished eating our treats from the trolley and I was resting my head against the window that I really realized how bad it was. Dark clouds were circling overhead and the rain was coming down like a sheet. The windows had misted so much they were tinted gray. I shivered and wrapped my robes tighter around me. I could almost feel the wind whistling through the side of the train.

"Are we almost there yet?" Emma asked Sandra. Made of skin and bones, she was shivering even more than I was.

Sandra squinted towards the window, trying to depict the landscape outside. "I'm not s—" She was interrupted by the slowing of the train. Knitting her eyebrows together, she started again, "That doesn't feel right. It was longer last year, I'd swear it."

"Are you sure?" I asked. Slowly I crossed the compartment and stuck my head out into the corridor. Apparently the rest of the train had had the same idea, because there was a head coming out of nearly every compartment.

The train came to a sudden halt and I was sent flying out into the corridor, colliding with the wall opposite me. I felt some comfort in the fact, though, that I was not the only one—or thing, as the case may be—that was flung forward.

Groaning, I crawled to my feet. My head was spinning and I couldn't see straight. Suddenly, everything went black. I reached forward to grab onto the wall and ended up falling.

"Bridey?" someone called out in a terrified little squeak; it sounded like it was probably Emma.

"I'm-I'm in the hallway," I stuttered. "I can't see anything!"

The door slid open and a hand reached out and grabbed onto my ankle. I yelped, but before I could protest I was being dragged into a compartment.

"Stop!" I finally managed to yell. "Don't touch me! Who are you?"

"You didn't used to me so loud."

"Seamus?" Despite my anger at him, I couldn't help but feel relieved. I was scared, and it was nice to have a familiar presence around me.

"Who else would it be, hm?"

"Well, I don't know!" I cried crossly. "What are you doing dragging me across a floor? You scared the living daylights out of me, you know!"

"Would yeh rather still be lyin' there on the floor?"

"No, of course not. I just—" I was cut off mid-sentence by an abrupt feeling of cold. "Seamus? What's going on?"

"I-I dunno," he stuttered.

I instinctively reached down and grabbed onto his hand. I was afraid he would recoil, especially after the way I had yelled at him the other day, but to my surprise, he squeezed my hand in return.

Out in the corridor, there appeared to be movement. I held my breath and inched closer to the door. It was hard to see due to the blackout, but it looked like several tall, hooded figures were gliding across the floor. As one approached, I turned to ask Seamus what they were, but the question got caught in my mouth. My breathing was constricted and I felt as if there were a cold hand in my chest.

Whatever this thing was, it wasn't good.

I stumbled back, holding even more tightly onto Seamus's hand. He pulled my close to him, but it didn't make any difference. The cold was in my bones; I was miserable. Nothing would ever be right again. My mind suddenly started to reel, replaying all of my worst memories.

And then it was gone.

I loosened my grip on Seamus's hand and pulled away from him. Slowly, the warmth came back to my body. The darkness cleared from my mind and I recalled good memories.

"What the bloody hell was that?" an unfamiliar voice exclaimed. I gave a start. I should have assumed that Seamus wasn't sitting by himself, but I hadn't seen anyone.

I released his hand and stepped away. It was one thing to do that when I thought we were alone, but in front of his friends? I must have looked like a baby—a fool. I felt a blush spread across my face.

"I dunno," Seamus repeated. "Bride, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I said defiantly. Honestly, I was a little shaken. Sure, I felt better now that that—that thing was gone, but the idea that something so terrible could exist frightened me. Why had I never read about those?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm positive." I moved closer to the door. As soon as the lights came back on, I was going to return to Emma and Sandra. Hopefully they were alright…They were probably wondering about me.

"How'd you know where I was, anyway?" I turned back toward my neighbor curiously. I hadn't thought of asking that before.

"Oh, well—I saw you earlier. I would have stopped in to say hi, but you're mad at me."

"Yes—I am."

Ignoring that, Seamus continued, "Dean—my friend here—saw someone crash into the wall. Then I heard someone call your name, and I knew it was you."

"Well why'd you bring me here? I could have gotten to my compartment."

"Claddagh."

"Claddagh? What does that mean?"

The lights flickered back on. After a moment, the train started to pick up pace again. I moved towards the door, but didn't leave, waiting for an answer.

As usual, Seamus decided not to answer. He had always had an irritating habit of eluding questions. "Bridey, this is Dean Thomas. Dean, this is Bridey."

I turned my attention towards the other boy in the compartment. He was tall—very tall—and black. He smiled warmly at me, and there was a weird look in his eye—like he knew who I was or something.

"Nice to meet you," he said pleasantly, holding out his hand to me.

I took it and gave a quick shake, all the while eyeing him suspiciously. "Yes, nice to meet you, too." My gaze shifted towards Seamus again. He was just standing there, silently watching us. His eyes flitted towards my neck; my hand shot up to my necklace.

"You're wearing it, and yet you don't know what I mean by Claddagh?" He shook his head and made a clicking noise with his tongue.

"I'm going back to my compartment," I announced; I had had enough of Seamus for the day. He had been nice for a little while, but he had managed to bother me again. I had developed a very low tolerance for him over the past four years or so. "It was nice to meet you Dean."

Without another word, I left the two boys and crossed the corridor to return to my new friends. As I slid open the door, Emma jumped up from her seat and rushed over to me.

"I was so worried!" she exclaimed. She motioned as if to give me a hug, but stopped herself and instead just grabbed my shoulders. "What were those things? Where'd you go?"

"My fr—neighbor pulled me into his compartment. But I don't know what they were. I couldn't get a good look at them. All I noticed is that they were tall and hooded."

"Their hands…Their hands were scabby," Sandra croaked. I was surprised to see that she had a look similar to fear on her stoic face. It was the first display of emotion I had seen from her yet.

"It was terrifying," Emma said, sitting back down in her seat. She was shaking. "I felt like…like I'd never be happy again."

"Me, too. I couldn't even think of anything happy. It was all just…it was awful!" I shook my head and resumed my seat. All of our trunks had fallen from their storage shelves and were laying in the middle of the floor, but none of us seemed to care. We were too wrapped up in thoughts of those awful creatures that had infiltrated the train to give much consideration to anything else.

I folded my hands over my lap and just stared at them, trying to banish the memories which kept creeping back. The fact that one of my bad memories was Seamus leaving was not something I wanted to think about.

a/n Hello :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I am working on the next chapter, so hopefully it shouldn't be too long until it is out :) Anyway, reviews are always appreciated!

xoxo