~Rose's POV~

2. Trains and Destinations

The train ride is full of happy banter, and laughter. Each giggle is like music to my ears, and I watch them, my friends fight among themselves over who looks nicer, John Prewett, or Archer Longbottom. And I listen to the argument, but I don't pay attention to what is said, I just listen to the sounds of their voices, the joy that they have, and the way they all seem to smile as if there was nothing wrong, and in a moment like this there isn't.

I watch the way they move, and I soak in each detail, analysing, recognising the changes. Summer seemed never ending, the orphanage was quiet, but the still is always before a storm, and the storm did come, and I still wear the bruises that it left behind, but they are hidden, beneath the robes, the clothes, the smile. And they stay that way.

Sometimes it upsets me, the 4 of them, all Weasleys spend the summer together, adventuring, creating new memories, and they grow closer, but I don't spend the summer there, I wouldn't be able to, and when we get back, back on this train, that platform, back to Hogwarts we are all together again, but the changes in them, and outside of them I need to get to know again, from scratch.

I watch them, and I let out the stress that I wouldn't recognise them, or know who they are. I'm happy everything came naturally, the laughter, the smiles, the talking, the words, the sentences. I'm happy they are happy, content.

Each one of them has a life I crave to have, that I would love to have, and as I look on I watch, and I think about each one of them, what has changed and what will never change.

Dominique Weasley, the daughter of Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley, who handles dragons in Romania. Her mother owns a clothes line, mostly floral and white, summer colours. She prides herself on the one eighth veela she is, her mother being half. Dom reminds me of a fairy tale princess, her long silvery, white, bleached blonde hair, that never tangles and is pin straight, reaching her mid back, and layered, looks unearthly, and her light blue eyes that seem to be liquid silver, shine, or glow.

She is tall, built like a model, skinny, and angular, but curved into perfection. The only flaw being the scars she bares. Dominique Weasley loves doing gymnastics, the only problem being, she isn't any good, and breaks bones as she never stops attempting, but she is good at being there. I have never met someone who protects the people they love quite as well as she does, and though her looks place her in the category of a model, she wants to be a Veterinarian, she loves animals, and she is good at loving them, she protects them just like she protects me. She has a younger brother by a year, Louis Weasley, and an older sister that is in her graduating year, Victorie, all 3 of them are complete opposites, Victorie likes sports, and does Quidditch, and wants to become the new assistant to Madame Hooch, and Louis is the scholar, that likes books, and doing dares.

Roxanne Weasley, her light chocolate skin, reminds me of my favourite kind of cinnamon, caramel coffee latte, she smells like Christmas, but reminds me of the sea, because her voice is soft, and still, and steady. She likes romance novels, and thrilling horror books as well, but not, and never school books. She is one of the bravest people I know, in the Quidditch team she is a chaser, and oh does she chase after what she wants. She is brilliant at doing defines and attacking spells in D.A.D.A.

Her hair is dark red, that is streaked with brown, and curly but soft and not as long, going to just below her shoulders, and not so curly that it was difficult to brush but more wavy than curly. Addictive, though, the way it slipped through my fingers, without a single knot. She said she would grow it out over the summer, but, she never did. Her eyes are a dark brown, with yellow around the iris, her eyebrows perfectly defined, and her body well-toned due to Quidditch. She is one of a kind, and yes she is kind, understanding, and always ready to listen to whatever speech I need to get off my chest.

Lucy Weasley, the child, the one who acts, loves and enjoys children. She has bright red hair, which is radiant, and can be found in any crowd. She is also on the Quidditch team, but as a backup player, at least for last year she was, try outs will happen again, this year, and maybe she will get a permanent role. She likes eating, and baking, so me and her will have bake offs, and make our friends eat our creations, as the judges.

She isn't as tall and only 2 inches over my small stature of 5'4. She is the only one out of the 5 of us that is currently in a relationship. Ah yes, Mason Wood, they have been dating all through the summer, and couldn't be happier, at least from her letters that is what I have understood. She is brave but more care free, not give a damn kind of brave, the brave that sometimes is stupidity. And I love her for her freedom, she makes me feel uncaged, and I allow that to consume me. Her eyes are a light green, that has dark brown edging the outside of the irises, and I watch those beautiful eyes come alive with laughter, and turn and look at me.

"You done soaking me in yet?"

She says with a little laugh at the end,

I duck my head, embarrassed, but answer honestly, "Yes. Though it is good to see you…"

Her smile becomes less teasing, Lucy is very empathetic, she can read me like a picture book, but never lets it on. And I don't mind, she knows me well, she knows I like my time to myself.

Roxanne cuts in, "What was that with James?"

I glance at her, and open my mouth to respond, but shut it, before saying anything, and busy myself with getting out a book, Spells and Incantations - Book 4 - Standardized, that I have already read, but need to know by heart. And I am still having some difficulties with the wand movements for the last chapter, Unlocking and Summoning.

Roxy repeats the question,

And I sigh, exasperated, "What was what?"

Dom's lips turn up, "You mean the blush spreading across her cheeks, or James pretending to not know her name?"

She scoffs, "I'm wondering the same damn thing, hmm, Thorne, got an answer?"

The name Thorne makes my lips turn up, my full last name, BlackThorne is a tad too long, and too much of a mouth full, so everyone shortens it to "Thorne" but never, and I mean never calls me Black. That name carries a history, the weight of a family, and I dare not play with the ancestry of it.

V nudges me with her foot, her legs resting on my lap, head pressed to the window by the sliding door, a dark navy blanket wrapped around her, as she drowsily, raises an eyebrow as she yawns.

I close my book with a snap, unable to find the page, and not really even trying to look.

"Fine. I don't know."

Everyone's eyes look at me with disbelief,

I roll my eyes, and open the book to the page of contents, and skim the last couple lines, searching for the chapter's page number.

I close my eyes, briefly, and open them looking at their expecting faces,

"Happy?" The sarcasm drips off the word, and makes it more into a statement than a question.

Dom shakes her head, "Hell no, what do you mean you don't know?"

I scrunch my eyebrows together, and repeat myself, slower, as if talking to an infant, "I mean I don't know,"

Roxy giggles, and grabs the book from my hand, tossing it on the seat beside her, where Lucy occupies, who lets out a muffled "Ouch!"

"That isn't possible, you know everything, everything you do has some magical purpose behind it, and so does flipping my cousin off, so?"

I cross my hands over my chest, an outraged look of horror on my face, and with false modesty I proclaim,

"I don't know everything, god, if I could know everything I would do so many more things with my life, I would start an association to help people who have 'Spontaneous Combusting Memories' due to their interaction with a certain two spells, Licendia, which summons grass, and Gresindsin, which destroys a particular memory that has already been extracted from the person in questions mind, and therefore this reaction between both spells causes the growing of weeds in one's mind, a horrible fate, if you ask me and, I think…."

Dom claps a well-manicured hand over my mouth, stopping my flow of words abruptly and shakes her head wildly, eyes wide, "Nope, no one asked you, that's okay we don't need to know what you think, it's really, really okay…"

Lucy giggles, her laughter loud, and Roxy joins in, amused at my rambling and Dom's horror at learning something before we even arrive at the school. V smiles at me, her eyes kind, but searching, looking under my wall of words, and into my heart, and gives me a look of understanding, saving the day with,

"Stop prying the poor girl, she doesn't know, god, does anyone know why James Potter does anything? Everything he does is a mystery to me, right?"

There is a chorus of yes's and the subject changes as the topic of Potter and I is dropped and they move on to discussing who the new Head girl and boy might be, telling each other who they voted for, and wondering if it was the right decision.

A mystery. Yes. I remember the first time I saw James Sirius Potter. It wasn't on that platform, or even on this train, I saw him when he went to get sorted into his Hogwarts house, I was already sitting at my table, sorted, and happy, excitement coursing through me as I watched the rest of the 1st years go through what I just had.

There he was, smaller then, skinnier, but still well built, his hair was shorter, and everyone watched him and he didn't mind, he acted as if he was used to everyone watching him, as if he grew up with all the eyes of the world on him, which he did. His eyes were bright, they reminded me of my own, yes, I remember, I thought our eyes, not the colour but the curiosity, the need to learn, shined through both of them, and it was reflected in his, the want to see everything, to memorise it and lock it away in his head.

I thought, in that hall, that was so big, and grand, he didn't seem so small, and insignificant like the rest of us, he seemed bigger, as if he already knew what he wanted. I remember that that impressed me. He sat on that little old stool for quiet sometime, maybe 10 minutes or so, everyone wondered, the first of the Potters to enter Hogwarts again, he had to be in Gryffindor right?

And he was, the sorting hat shouted it out, clear through the air, and he didn't look relieved, but excited, ready for what was to come. He jumped off that stool and walked to the table, a stride of fearless determination, and something else, I couldn't quiet place. I remember how everyone stood up, everyone, and congratulated him, welcomed him, no one stood for me, but I wasn't angry, I was curious. Just like he was.

"I always lose you in your head, even though you are right here,"

V's voice cuts through my thoughts, and draws me out of them, back to the present, my face is pressed against the glass, looking out the window, my breath creating condensation, and frost, the trees run by, as the train speeds on, the scenery is beautiful, the sun dipping into the horizon, slipping behind it as it plays hide and seek with the sky, and sets with blues, greys, purples, oranges and yellows, looking unreal, as if a painting, or a dream.

"You are always the most distant from me in your mind, sometimes I can't find you there,"

I don't need to look at her, to know she is studying me, her lips centimetres from my ear as she whispers in the silence, everyone else must have fallen asleep, curled up with each other, content with the company they have.

I raise my hand and place it on top of hers, giving it a squeeze,

"I'm right here,"

"You know that's not what I meant,"

I nod, my silence answering her question. And my eyes dip close, the sun's rays warming my face,

"How was your summer?" The question is honest, and I love that about V, she is always honest with me, because she knows I rather the hard truth then the happy lie.

"Good, long, but good,"

She repeats her earlier line, "You know that's not what I meant,"

And this time I do reply, "Honest? It was difficult, but I'm here aren't I?"

It is her turn to squeeze my hand back, "Yes, you are here, right here…"

I am shaken awake, the hands I recognise as V's, and I stretch like a cat, bones creaking, and bending at my will. I yawn, mouth hanging large, not bothering to cover it, and drowsily open my eyes, vision blurry. I can see Tempest's cage somewhere by the ceiling, and blink my eyes closed, my limbs feel heavy, and I can feel my eyelashes stick together, and let out a sigh.

"What?" I grumble, drowsy and drifting back to sleep, head resting on the red velvet seat of our train compartment, luggage rattling above us,

"Does June need to use the bathroom?"

"No, your cat is fine; we have our first prefect meeting, and have to change into our robes as well,"

V's voice is hushed and she prods me with her index finger, poking my arm, repeatedly,

I attempt to slap her hand away, but my efforts are fruitless, and I eventually drag myself into an upward position, and massage my shoulder blades, cramped from the tight position I was in.

"Fine, let me get changed,"

I glance around, now more awake, and observant, Lucy and Dom are curled up on one of the long seats, curled into each other, a tangle mass of Weasley. But Roxanne must have been kicked off the small bench, and lies on the black carpeted floor, mouth hanging open, a small trickle of drool running down her cheek. A small tender smile graces my face, and I watch them with kindness in my eyes. Feeling pity and sympathy I grab the blue blanket me and V were using and place it over her sprawled form, tucking her in, and running a hand through her tangled hair, once knotless.

"You coming?"

V calls me, gesturing for me to follow her, "You can change after the meeting, kay?"

I nod in response and follow her out the door.

Trailing behind her by a few paces, she seems to know where she is going, glancing behind to make sure I am there, and every time she does I send her a warm smile, genuine, and she responds in kind.

We arrive, after 5 cars, and many run in's with toads, my least favourite animal, which caused us to pause and find a way around, along with spells going awry, sparks flying through the corridors, and yelps of frustration following them, not far behind.

The compartment is bigger, with a large wood table, circular in shape, and it is already packed with students, though no teachers are present. Badges shine out, proud and new, as everyone whispers to each other, talking amongst one and other. Most of the students are wearing their robes, from the platform, of their school uniform, few are dressed in muggle attire as I am, I wear light grey skinny jeans, that define my long legs, I am short but not badly proportioned, and simple black flats, with a black blouse, but I do wear blue robes over the simple clothing, trying to hide my ordinary profile.

"I told you I'd see you here,"

I stop looking around and look on in horror. James bloody Potter is talking to V, who stands a pace or two in front of me,

V grins, shaking her head in disbelief,

"You're right, I didn't believe the one rule breaker in the whole entire school would be assigned a prefect, I'm impressed, how'd you convince them to appoint you?"

My mouth that hangs open in utter shock, snaps closed, and I take it upon myself to cut in,

"V, you mean how did he get his to parent's convince them to give you the badge,"

Those eyes, rest on me, leaving Veronica behind, they aren't surprised I spoke up; they almost look as if they expected it. He has changed into his robes, and looks regal, but also younger, less of someone unreal, and more present, as if I could reach out a hand and touch him. No. I mentally scold myself, and get rid of the thought as soon as it appears.

"Ahhh, Rose, was it?"

His voice is playful, as he pretends to not know who I am,

"Yes, that was it, Potter, right?"

I play his game, my voice not even bothering to hide the layer of ice,

"I do believe that is my name, I'm honoured you remembered,"

I open my mouth to scream, or shout, or, just,

"My parents believe in learning from one's own mistakes, therefore it would be counterproductive to prevent me from doing so, no, this was all Minerva,"

My mouth drops open again, as if; if possible my jaw would hit the floor,

"Minerva? You mean Professor McGonagall, and I doubt you have ever learned anything in your entire sad existence,"

He chuckles, cracking a smile, that makes my heart thud, no, the room is hot, so many people makes it stuffy, I am just cluster phobic, that's all.

"Yes, Minerva, she's a family friend, and as to learning, aren't I top of the class in every subject, 3 years running?"

Anger boils through my veins, white hot, searing, and any previous want to, god knows what, is dispelled,

"No, not all classes, I'm top in divination, 3 years running, so you are wrong,"

He is amused, and runs a hand through his messy black hair, tossing it around,

"Is that so? Come now, divination doesn't count as a subject,"

My eyes widen with dismay, "Yes it is, it is a subject, and I am top of it, and plus we tied on almost everything, so it does count, right V?"

I call for back up, looking at her with pleading, desperate eyes, desperate to prove myself right. V had watched our interaction as if she was observing a sport, and she looks at me with a look that clearly says, 'since when do you argue with James?'

But backs me up anyways, "Yes, it is a subject, it is on the curriculum for a reason James, now come let's find out who is the new Head girl and boy, kay?"

She looks at us both, and that ends that discussion, but I toss Potter another dirty look, which he grins at, much to my displeasure.

We move closer to that table, on top of it, carefully laid out are many schedules, maps of Hogwarts, classrooms, storage rooms, and booklets of what is off limit, and what should be done if you find anyone in these areas. I observe the array of instructions, descriptions and guidelines. There are too many to soak in, so I make a mental note to get copies, or make copies. And I feel a thrill run through me, I am a prefect, and I can't help but feel like I should pat myself on the back, but I resist the urge.

I wonder what Potter will do, the trouble maker that does pranks, on teachers, students, ghosts, everyone, and now has the power to tell other people to stop, it was just twistedly ironic, and again, I felt the anger slice through me.

And I raise a caramel eyebrow delicately, and whisper to Potter,

"How often should I prepare myself to find you in the restricted areas?"

He doesn't need to look at me to know that what I said was no joke, and that he knew why I asked the question. He tilts his head, and I watch him out of the corner of me eye,

He pretends to think, and for a moment I think he is going to ignore me or pretend that he didn't hear me, and then his answer arrives,

"At least twice a week, not counting the weekends, of course, are you talking about after hours or during the day? Because if you want to talk after hours, I am sure we can both find each other, any arrangement works,"

Utter appalled horror paints my face and the only reply I can make out is a loud clearing of my throat, and struggled cough, as if I was choking on something, which I was. I was choking on disgust. James Potter had just asked me out? In a roundabout way? Today was full of surprises, the only pity being they were all bloody Potter's. And the most appalling thing was the fact he didn't even have the decency to look at me while saying it.

I raise both eye brows, and decide that ignoring is the better option, but I can feel him listen to my reaction and he tilts his head back, hair falling to the side with a soft swish, and he smiles as if he won. And he did, but only this once next time I'll get him.

I stop myself, Next time? No, there will not be a next time, I rather my life without Potter in it and it will stay that way. If only I knew what was in store for me in these upcoming weeks, months, years, I would laugh at myself, and say, "You idiot, you have no idea," but I was content with thinking, convincing myself that it would be like every other year. How wrong I was.

V grabs my hand, pulling me back to the small compartment,

Her eyes are a light with pride and respect, "Victorie's head girl!"

Awe fills me as I watch her enter the room. She has a big smile, but tries to hide the grin. Good, I voted for her, as did all 5 of us.

Victorie smiles at her as she walks past, saying, "I knew you'd get it, congrats!"

I suppose it makes sense, and I feel a tad upset, the Weasleys and the Potters get everything in their lives, handed to them; they don't know what struggle is, or how much some people work for that. I glance over at Potter and his expression makes me think, he doesn't look surprised, he looks as if he already knew, he did, didn't he? And if feel a slice of anger again, he is prefect, she is head girl, why not? Their parents are the main sponsors for Hogwarts' finances. Why wouldn't their children be appointed roles in the hierarchy of authority?

Beside Victorie Weasley, who is a proud Gryffindor, is a Hufflepuff, Arnold Michigan, a muggle born who has the biggest heart matching the biggest dreams. He wants to be Minister Of Agriculture in the Ministry of Magic, and some say he has already applied for the job, though I disagree, he is too smart to apply before getting his NEWT examination results. Though he has his life all planned out and it impresses me, no surprise there, either.

We begin the long discussion, talking amongst each other, and getting each of our prefect schedules, I hold mine in my hand, clasped as I read it, interested and excited, responsibility doesn't scare me, it makes me want to prove myself, to try my best, and god I will.

Rose BlackThorne – Prefect Schedule

Monday- Inventory of Advanced Potion Levels 8- 8:30 p.m.

Tuesday- Shift on third floor, night patrol 9-11 p.m.

Wednesday- All detentions of 1st years- oversee 8-whatever time finished p.m.

Thursday- free, able to fill in for other prefects

Friday- Shift on sixth floor, night patrol 9-11 p.m.

Saturday- Hogsmead assistant inspector (no alcohol, illegal goods being brought back into the castle) 8-10 a.m.

Sunday- free, able to fill in for other prefects

I take a deep breath, I can do that, and though taking inventory is boring, and detention takes long, I feel as if I am looking forward to it all. Why not? This is what I have wanted all 3 years I have been in Hogwarts and now here I am, making myself proud, me and V switch schedules and look each other's over. We both have frees on Thursday and Sunday, but nothing else matches up, oh well, it would have been nice for her to be my partner in the patrols, for patrols consist of two prefects each.

I wonder who my partner is. But I will see soon enough, today is Sunday, and the day is coming to a close, as the sun says its last goodbyes and winks out, its rays following it.

Victorie's voice rings out, "Anyone who would like to take on extra shifts or has space in their schedule please make your way this way, and everyone else have a nice day, change into your robes and prepare all passengers for immediate arrival to Hogwarts,"

V grins at me and gives me a shove towards the table, "Go and get your extra shift nerd, I'll go wake up our numb nut friends, kay?"

I grin right back and nod in response, making my way towards the duo of head boy and girl, who discuss amongst one and other, deep in thought.

"I'm here for the extra shifts? I have space,"

Victorie looks up, and smiles kindly at me, "Right, of course, can you take an extra patrol on Monday?"

I glance down at my schedule and nod in agreement, "Yes, I can, my inventory finishes at 8:30 so from then to?"

She watches me with a sweet look in her eyes, appreciating my want to help, to do my best, "To 10 works, and can you patrol the front entrance of Hogwarts, no one is to go near that door, and no one should be entering or leaving the castle, understood? If they are leaving or entering, and are students subtract 30 points from their respective house and give them one week of detention, immediately. Yes?"

"Yes."

She smiles that smile again, and I feel warm inside, she isn't how Dom describes her to be, self-conceited, never there, horrible sister, annoying, morally superior, no, she is kind and gentle and worthy of the honour she has gotten. I subtract my previous judgement, even if she got the role because of her last name, she deserves it either way, with Potter, I'm not so sure.

I turn to walk away, back to her, and open the sliding door to leave and go and change into my robes, "Wait,"

She calls out, and I glance over my shoulder at her, looking expectant,

"Your one of Dom's friend's right?"

I smile and chuckle under my breath, "Something like that,"

"Good, she needs people like you around to keep her on the right track,"

Her voice is full of laughter and humour, and I laugh with her,

"I need people like her around me to remind me how fun life can be,"

She smiles, but is distracted as a line begins to form in front of her, of prefects asking questions, demanding answers, and she begins to greet them.

I slip away, out the door and down the long corridor, finally arriving back at our compartment, all of my friends are awake, and changing, Roxanne already changed and is petting my cat. Murmuring to her in a sweet sugary voice, and rubbing her ears to and fro. She always has loved my cats, my last one died last year during spring, I remember how devastated I was, I cried for months, I had her for 3 long years, all through my first couple years in Hogwarts, she was a part of me, but Roxy was just as devastated as I was, or even more so.

She sees me in the door way, "She is so small!"

I giggle, "I know,"

And I open my overstuffed trunk, which is organised into item type, colour, subject and world, muggle, wizarding.

My school stuff placed on the right half. My clothes tucked and rolled on the left. I pull out the Hogwarts uniform. Which consists of high jet black socks that are accompanied with heeled black shoes, around 3 inches tall, that gives me some free height, these have a small black strap across the top of the foot. There is a high-waisted black skirt, that falls to 'just above the knees' which no one abides, but oh well, and then there is also a pleated skirt, black and grey, with wool like fabric for the winter.

A tie of your house's colours, and a white blouse tucked into the skirt, either short sleeve, or long sleeve depending on the weather, and on the blouse, on the little white pocket, is your houses insignia. You also have a jumper in your house's colour, and a sweater. But over the blouse comes your robes, which I pull on, up and over my arms, enclosing my in its warmth, the attire is comfortable, and it already feels like a part of me is going to be okay, those robes are silky to my touch, soft to my touch, familiar to my smell, close to my heart.

I look in the mirror, leaving my friends behind I left the crowded compartment and went to the bathroom to change, I look happier than I have looked in a long time. My blue-green eyes look like the sea, or so my friends have told me, I just see a dull grey. My face is angular, I lost weight over the summer, but not because I wanted to, Hogwarts will fix that though, they have an endless amount of food, at all times. My eyebrows are high on my brow, and my eyelashes are long, curving upwards. My skin is clear except for the flush of excitement, and light dusting of freckles. My hair is pulled into a high ponytail, out of my face, and its brown has never impressed me. I turn away, and step out of the bathroom and walk down that corridor that I have walked a thousand times before.

And I stop and I look out a window, large and clear, as the stars begin to wake up in the dark sky, and bink their eyes, the moon, is full and high in that darkness, but in the distance shining, with light and looking welcoming, is Hogwarts. Looming and tall, rising from that cliff, beautiful and perfect. The lake around it reflects its majesty, and acts as a mirror to its beauty. And it is my destination, not just now, but always, wherever I am, I always want to go back, to stay, to never leave, to come home.

And I feel relief fill me and my face feels wet, as a single tear of pure joy, happiness makes its way down my cheek, tracing my lips as it caresses my skin and then falls only to be caught by my fingertip, and I hold it and tare my eyes from the stunning view, and look down at it. It is clear, perfectly round, like a raindrop, and its transparency frightens me, so I let it go, and I watch it fall through the air and hit the floor.

And I look back out, onto the journey that lies ahead, the adventures we will have, the mistakes we will make, the times that will fly by, and I study it, eyes wide with honest innocence unaware of what is to come, but pretending to be prepared for anything.

And I watch us near that castle, that towers above us, and I smile, and I say thank you, I don't know to who, I don't know why, but I do know that I made it, and I have another year to hide within its walls, protected by its spells, its brick, its teachers, and my friends.

"Thank you…."

And with the wind I hear it's reply, but the voice is not a friends, it is an enemies, and it sounds like velvet, rich, deep, quiet, and not here, as if the future was whispering to me in the wind, and that voice, I recognise it, it's Potter's voice, but he isn't here, so I must be mistaken, I must have not heard, but I swear it said,

"Always…"