With a long awaited screech that resounded throughout the carriage, the train eventually began to slow, carrying on a couple of hundred yards before pulling to a final stop in Hogsmeade station. Steam billowed above the scarlet engine, lingering about the platform momentarily, before dissipating into the cool evening air. Vanilla chocoballs, sugar quills, fizzing whizbees, liquorice wands; the array of sweets we had bought from the trolley seemed endless as I scooped up all we had yet to eat, carelessly shoving them into Zoey's bag as she grabbed her muggle books that were still left strewn across the seats from earlier.
"I was hoping the storm would pass," she sighed, looking out the window as we waited to leave the train, "but I think it's actually gotten worse."
A bolt of lightning cut through the blackening clouds as if it was trying to agree with her statement.
"I love this weather," I mused, more to myself than anyone else as I placed a hand on the glass window, staring out across the monotonous landscape. In it's own way, it was strangely beautiful. The way the fog rolled down the valley sides and the odd star momentarily shone through a fleeting gap before being hidden once more by a canopy of blackened clouds.
"How can you prefer this," she gestured lazily towards the window with a flick of her wrist, "to the summer?"
I equated the summer to six weeks I had to spend alone with my family as they slowly chip away my already diminishing sanity.
"What about ice cream, walks on the beach, paddling pools when you were little, barbeques and summer holidays?" she began to ramble with a nostalgic smile on her face as she reminisced about all the memories from her childhood.
I never had any of that as a child, no walks on the beach with oversized ice creams that left your hands all sticky for a good few hours after you'd finished it, no paddling pools in the back garden that were so small you could probably only fit your left foot in comfortably, no barbeques around friends houses on lazy sunday evenings until the rain started of course and everyone had to run inside with whatever food they could grab. The only time I've ever been abroad is when went to visit Uncle Alasdair in Germany for my Aunt's funeral when I was nine and I wouldn't exactly call that a summer holiday.
If it was remotely enjoyable, we didn't do it.
"What about autumn," I countered, "golden leaves crunching underfoot, toffee apples and warm butterbeer, autumn berries, pumpkin pasties and halloween."
"You hate halloween."
"True," I agreed, sliding open the compartment door with relative ease, "but I'm trying to make a point so if you would just along with it for the sake of my argument it would be greatly appreciated."
"Oh so that's how it is."
"Precisely," I flashed her an over the top smile, to which she responded by pushing me through the door with a fair amount of force. And this is my life we're talking about, not one of the Hogwart's popular girls group where veela blood was practically an entrance right, or a quidditch captain who could do no wrong in the eyes of the student body. No this was me, a socially inept pureblood who seemed to attract bad luck like an industrial strength magnet. So the unfortunately the corridor wasn't empty as I could only hope for as the universe had seemingly decided that my ridicule was not over yet hence why I fell straight into none other than James Sirius Potter who - based on the harsh glare and the crease between his eyebrows - I'm assuming is still rather annoyed at me after earlier's fiasco.
If looks could kill, you'd better start preparing my funeral arrangements because the scowl Potter just sent my way could make even some of the bravest wizards tremble. Fortunately for me, my survival instincts seem to be wired against me which explains why I let out a rather loud snort in an attempt to hold back the laughter which overtook me only moments later when I realised Blondie was still clinging onto his arm like it was her only lifeline. She sent me a genuine smile, now knowing me as the one that helped get both her and Potter back together, before I looked over to him. Momentarily, his eyes locked onto me in a fleeting yet intense stare until all I saw was the back of his head, walking away from me.
Zoey had been a bystander for that entire situation, watching on with nothing but confusion as a boy - who to her knowledge didn't know I existed - looked at me with a certain hatred that didn't just stem from nowhere.
"What the hell was that about?"
I shrugged nonchalantly.
She raised an eyebrow expectantly but it soon dropped as she took note of the blank expression etched upon my face which drew her towards the incorrect conclusion that I genuinely didn't know what just happened.
While she processed the encounter, we slowly filed down the train, first years shoving past us in a frantic attempt to reach the platform where they could get their first proper view of the castle in all it's archaic glory, for which I didn't blame them, it truly is a sight to behold. Moments later, I was harshly shoved aside as two young boys, twins to be precise, shot between us, hair plastered to their foreheads, wands held loosely in hands and lacrosse sticks strapped tightly to their backs.
Lacrosse sticks?
"Muggleborns," I smiled fondly.
"Americans," Zoey spoke at the same time with a slight laugh.
The boy on the left turned back to face us with an apologetic smile, "sorry," he yelled in an accent that Zoey would later identify as being from Boston, the same city that her father was born in before he migrated to England when he was four. From what I gathered, he had returned there after his split from Zoey's mother but I wasn't entirely certain, her dad is the one thing that she very rarely talks about. We smiled back, pleased that for once someone had actually had the courtesy to apologise, before he ran off into the rain to catch up with his brother.
When I stepped out of the carriage, I pulled my cloak tighter around my body in a somewhat feeble effort to protect myself from the rain that lashed out at my skin until it actually began to sting. Admittedly, this was far from pleasant. Zoey soon noticed what I was doing which caused her to smile slightly, the corners of her eye crinkling, "I thought you loved this weather."
"So did I," I laughed slightly before continuing, "rain, I love. Feeling like my face is being attacked by a swarm of angry wasps, I can't say I enjoy so much."
The numerous layers of mascara she had painstakingly applied on the train, despite every shudder and bump that rocked the carriage as the wheels rolled along the tracks, were beginning to run down her face and blend with her foundation forming a black smudge that spread across her cheeks. She stared at her reflection in a puddle with a discontented groan, "ugh, this makeup was supposed to be Kardashian inspired but now I just look like Beetlejuice."
"What's a Kardashian?"
Her smile dropped as she feigned a serious expression, "scary creatures made mostly of plastic who have outlined their plan for world domination using sex tapes and surprisingly good matte lip kits."
I ran through her words in my head for a moment, debating what part of that statement to question first but instead focussed on a broader over-arching query, "will I ever understand muggles?"
"I doubt it," she laughed.
I opened my mouth to provide her with some half-assed counter argument in my defense but stopped, pressing my lips together as, at that exact moment, I noticed that the rain had stopped falling upon me, but instead had chosen to curve its path around the both of us.
"Did you..." Zoey began, looking to the sky with an unfounded sense of awe as she'd come to have the same revelation as I had.
"No," I answered before she had even finished her question.
"Ah, that may have been down to me," I turned until my gaze fell upon a sandy haired boy who was tucking his wand back into his robes, "you ladies really need to brush up on your wandwork, and both Ravenclaws too, I'm disappointed."
The lazy smirk he wore suggested that he fully intended to show off a little, but the smile he hid behind it showed that it was all in good humour. Zoey reached into her bag, pulling out a book which she proceeded to bat him over the head with, not too hard though, just enough to make a point. He grumbled, raising a hand to rub the back of his head.
"Oh shut up," she said before the boy - Aiden, if we're using names - into a tight hug which he had no problem returning.
"Nice makeup," he commented, "what look were you going for? Beetlejuice?"
"I hate you," she lied before turning to me, her expression quite clearly screaming 'I told you so'. I halfheartedly bit back a smile but she noticed and her face contorted into a scowl.
"I know you do."
It wouldn't be wrong to assume that Zoey was the friendlier of the two of us, hence why she has a few more good friends who, although were always nice to me, I considered to be more of an acquaintance than anything. If I'm being quite honest about the situation, I can come across as quite the bitch to the few who actually know who I am. I'm not really like that, I just distance myself from people, the last thing I need is people knowing I'm a Rosier. The only person who's ever managed to crack through my carefully constructed facade is of course Zoey although it would be fair to say Molly is getting somewhere too. I've survived the last five years of school by making sure I was known as 'that quiet girl from Ravenclaw' rather than 'one of those fanatic pureblood types' but now, thanks to my mother and her abundance of cosmetic potions, the likes of Alfie Marsden and James Potter had starting displaying an interest that they had never shown before which was honestly worrying me slightly.
Aiden's next comment only served to further back up my point, "Aria? Is that...you look amazing."
As it turns out, all you need is a new haircut and a tight fitting blouse to get people to notice you.
Well ladies, I guess beauty really is skin deep.
Zoey's smile faltered for a second.
"Yes it's me," I answered with a curt nod that was somewhat formal in nature. Zoey shot me the look that she often used to remind me that I was talking to another teenager, not some pureblood socialite at one of the Nott family balls.
He laughed slightly, "you're always so..." a momentary pause made it's way into the conversation, "prim and proper."
"It's how I've always been taught to act," I shrugged nonchalantly in an attempt to relax a little and appear more casual.
"You need to loosen up a little, you know, forget about the formalities."
"The day Aria loosens up is the day I finally manage to get an O in defence," Zoey cut in.
"Didn't you nearly blow up Davis' classroom last year?"
"Exactly."
He turned back to me, walking closer to the both of us so that he was also shielded from the rain, "have you cut your hair?"
"Seriously?" Zoey looked less than impressed.
"I'm joking, I'm joking. It's long now and a little ginger," he laughed, gaze fixed on me, "didn't peg you for a weasley wannabe."
I tried to muster the most exasperated look I could managed, but failed to hide my smile; I may try and isolate myself from him as I do everyone else, but he always did manage to cheer me up, even when I wasn't sad.
Zoey jumped into a conversation with Aiden which began to tune out as we began to walk towards the carriages.
I fell into step behind them, but the content I felt when surround by my own thoughts was soon broken by the uncomfortable feeling of another pair of eyes on me, Alfie Marsden was staring at me yet again. Within seconds it had become something of a competition in which neither party could avert their gaze, to do so would be to cast a judgement of weakness upon myself which I was not going to allow. He dragged it out for the better half of a minute before giving in with an ill intended wink as he turned back to join the conversation Potter was having with one of his many cousins, Freddie Weasley this time I believe.
Aiden's hand was outstretched, offering to help me up onto carriage as he had done for Zoey but I didn't take it, instead I grabbed onto the handle and pulled myself up out of the mud. He rolled his eyes with a small laugh, "I forgot you like to do everything yourself."
"Did nobody tell you that chivalry is dead?"
"It may have been mentioned once or twice, but alas, I am gentleman," he took a small bow before taking a seat next to Zoey whilst the group of third years, who we unfortunately had to share a carriage with, kept giggling and looking his way. The wheels began to turn once more as we began our journey towards the castle, still shielded from the rain by Aiden's charm as everyone else was left to soak through. You would've thought that Hogwarts, an a thousand year old school of magic, had solved this issue by now.
The many who have said that Aiden Edwards can charm the pants off of the majority of the female population at Hogwarts would indeed be correct. There are very few who were yet to become victim to his boyish charms, and I just happened to be one of them. When your mother has already created a list of potential husbands for you before your seventh birthday it's hard to see the point in relationships. I mean I understand how happy it can make other people but I don't get to be one of those girls and, if I'm honest, it doesn't bother me all that much.
"So did you hear who got the captaincy this year," Aiden asked, for once looking somewhat hopeful without his usual confidence. We both had heard the news on the train when the Ravenclaw quidditch team in its entirety had paraded down the carriages with him on their shoulders chanting, 'Edwards is our king'. Zoey was just about to reply, most likely to congratulate him, when I decided to cut in.
"No I haven't actually," I shook my head, "my bet's on Danvers though."
A hint of confusion washed over my best friend's face before she realised what I was doing, "yeah I agree, she's perfected the Woollongong shimmy," Zoey nodded enthusiastically, "I heard that she's already been scouted by Puddlemere."
I went along with her despite having no clue what a wooly-whatever shimmy was but it sounded impressive albeit a little weird. I was pretty uneducated when it came to quidditch but Zoey, despite hating flying, loved watching the sport and therefore knew a fair deal more than I.
"What do you think?" I asked Aiden, who was looking disheartedly at his thumbs as he mumbled his way through his appraisal of Samantha Danvers' sporting abilities. We both glanced at him, then turned our heads back to each other before Zoey started to shake with laughter.
"Edwards, I commend you on your modesty, I really do".
He looked up at me with clear confusion.
"We know you got the captaincy, you idiot," Zoey shoved him playfully, and a smile broke out across his face.
"Well done you deserve it."
The carriage ride didn't last all that much longer, maybe twenty minutes at a push, before we had reached the castle. Professors ushered us into the Great Hall, insisting it was customary for us all to be ready and seated before the first years all stumbled in with awestruck expressions plastered across their faces. I'm not even joking about the stumbling, last year I counted three of the poor children who fell over because they were too busy looking up at the ceiling rather than watching where they were going.
I wonder if they can beat that record this year.
Just as we began to make our way towards the door, Zoey nudged me sharply in the ribs, "I'm just going to run up to my dorm with this," she gestured towards the oversized bag she was still clutching, "I'll make it back in time won't I?"
I glanced down at my watch, "you've got ten minutes, run."
She waited for moment, asking me if I'd save her a seat, until Professor Thornley's back was turned before bolting up the stairs at quite a pace.
Moment's later, the large wooden doors swung open to reveal the usual grand setting that we were presented with during the sorting ceremony. Four long tables ran the length of the hall, inviting students to sit down with their friends, chat for a bit whilst nibbling on one of the cookies the house elves had prepared which served as a constant reminder of the feast that would soon follow. Candles floated gracefully around the ceiling with the intention of lighting the hall while an array of banners, each representing its own house's colours, hung loosely from the walls.
It felt good to be back, free from my mother's scrutiny and the pressure to adhere to the Sacred Eight's pureblood ideals.
I was home.
Ten minutes had passed since I sat down at the table and Zoey still hadn't returned; I wasn't worried, she was more than capable of handling herself, but I was a little curious to say the least. One by one, the plates of cookies vanished from the tables, signalling the arrival of the first years for the sorting ceremony. The doors swung open once again, this time revealing a group of small children who began walking towards the front, some with apprehension, others with excitement and a few with a look of pure wonder.
A loud clatter sounded from the side of the group where one of the children had tripped, grasping onto one of the Gryffindor student's robes in a feeble attempt to soften the fall.
Well, that's one of them down already.
It wasn't until the last few first years stepped into the hall that I noticed Zoey trying to blend in with them by hovering at the back but, as she stood at least two feet above the tallest of them, she wasn't having much success. Her eyes scanned the table until she found me before breaking away from the pack, earning a disapproving look from McGonagall, as she slid into the seat next to me.
"What took you so long?" I whispered a little louder than intended. Aiden looked up at us from where he had sat across the table with some of the quidditch team, his interest clearly sparked.
"I'll tell you soon," she responded. I was expecting her to say 'I couldn't solve the riddle' or 'the stairs decided to change on me' but the fact that she's waiting to tell me must mean that something of some importance had happened and I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little intrigued.
"Richard Aberforth," McGonagall's voice cut across the whispers with a sense of authority that silenced everyone in the room.
A small boy took a tentative step forward, his face the perfect image of anxiety. He was ushered up to the stool to which his fingers now clung until his knuckles had turned a pasty white. As soon sorting hat was placed on his head, it sprung to life wasting little time before it yelled, "RAVENCLAW," and my table erupted into cheers.
If I'm being honest, I zoned out for the remainder of the ceremony, it's not that I didn't enjoy them. The first evening wouldn't be the same without it but by the sixth year of it all, every crying, terrified, confused or elated kid just rolls into one at it all becomes the same. The only words that were of any importance to me were, of course, left until the very end when she raised her hands and said, "let the feast begin."
Plate after plate of mouthwatering foods fizzled into existence as I turned to Zoey, awaiting an explanation. She shovelled a spoonful of shepherd's pie onto her plate, frowning at me slightly before beginning, "I bumped into James Potter, he asked about you." She had known something was up when he scowled at me on the train. "He wanted to know your name," she continued.
Oh Merlin.My fork slipped from my grasp, clattering harshly on the metal plate as I mumbled apologies to the dozen people who had turned to see what was going on.
"You didn't tell him, did you?"
I tried to act casual, like it didn't bother me in the slightest but her raised eyebrow told me that she'd sensed my nervousness. Normally I was a good liar, excellent in fact, but if there's one thing Zoey is good at it's working out what I'm feeling, she can read me like an open book.
"Not exactly," she replied, choosing not to question my behaviour though I had no doubt in my mind that she would bring me up on it later. The small rush of relief that statement gave me was short-lived once I'd realised that it wasn't the definitive 'no' that I was hoping for.
"What does that mean?"
She bit down on her lip to mask a smile, taking a small sip of pumpkin juice from her silver goblet to try and hide it further.
Mischief sparked throughout her eyes.
"It means, I may have told him that your name was Verity," the smirk on her face began to grow as she placed the mug back down on the table in front of her.
It didn't take me long to click on to what she was trying to tell me.
"And by that did you, by any chance, mean the same Verity that happens to lead his little army of teenage fangirls."
"Why yes Aria, I believe I did."
By this point we were both sat there grinning at each other like a pair of overexcited children, "do I ever tell you how truly brilliant you are sometimes?"
"Only sometimes?" she mocked offence, "anyway, c'mon you need to eat."
My plate was piled with roast potatoes but, by the time everyone else had finished eating, the majority still remained as I'd unsurprisingly lost my appetite after ending up with a few too many foul tasting Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans on the journey here.
Desserts had come and gone, now people were beginning to filter out of the hall, making their way back to their common rooms after finishing their final mouthfuls of their meal. Zoey pushed the remains of her apple crumble away from her, straightening her blouse as she hoisted herself up out of her seat and started walking the length of the hall with me in tow.
"I think I've eaten enough to feed a small army," she groaned, clutching her stomach, as we made our way up the first flight of stairs.
"I'm not surprised, five different puddings is a tad excessive."
Sir Nicholas, more fondly known by the students as Nearly Headless Nick, floated past us as we round the corner, sending a friendly smile our way which we gladly returned. I'd often said that I prefered him to my own house's ghost, The Grey Lady, as she spent most of her time wallowing around the castle while the Gryffindors had ended up with a much more cheerful apparition.
"I just can't be expected to pick between sticky toffee or syrup sponge, and there was app-"
Her reply was cut short when Aiden ran up behind me, swinging an arm around us both, "you trying out for quidditch Aria?"
I reacted to the unexpected contact with only a slight flinch which was nothing compared to Zoey who nearly jumped out of her skin. He started laughing as she turned to face him, trying to steady her breathing while she glared at him with all the anger she could conjure.
It only made him laugh harder.
"Why are you asking me?" I questioned, removing his arm from my shoulder.
"Well Zoey hates flying but I don't know about you."
"I've never told you that," she said.
"I take note of these things," he turned back to me, still expecting an answer to his earlier question.
"I don't fly."
"Why?"
I shrugged.
"You're a woman of few words Rosier."
I cringed at his blatant use of my surname.
"But something tells me that's all I'm going to get for now," he finished as we strode up another flight of stairs.
"That's probably the most accurate thing you've said all day Edwards."
The winding expanse of corridors seemed endless and we trailed around the school halls, I sometimes wonder how I ever managed to find my way around the castle when I was a first year and other times I wonder how I still manage it now.
"Oh, and on another note, I am the bearer of good news," Aiden grinned which instilled little confidence in me as he pulled a red and gold envelope from the inside of his robes, "there's a party."
"YES," Zoey screeched, eyes bright with excitement.
"No," I said at the same time, with conviction.
Her face dropped, head turning to look at me with disappointment seeping into every feature, "why?"
"Parties aren't my thing."
They were about as far from 'my thing' as you could possibly get. I had a habit of avoiding any kind of social interaction like the plague and I wasn't going to let this time be any different. The fact that weren't ever invited to any of them helped, unless it was a Ravenclaw quidditch one of course because then everyone who wore a blue tie throughout the school day got an invite. And as this was one James Potter's infamous parties, there was no need for me to worry about being invited because, well, I wouldn't be.
"We haven't gotten an invite anyways so it doesn't matter," she replied, looking a little disheartened as she said what was on my mind.
"That's where you are wrong," Aiden intervened.
Okay, so maybe I did need to start worrying.
"Well, you know how I'm captain of the quidditch team."
"Really?"
"Never noticed."
He rolled his eyes.
"Anyways, quidditch players get two plus ones."
"So you're inviting us," she asked, wide eyed and hopeful once more.
"Most of the girls in this school are about as shallow as a kid's paddling pool," he stated as if it was a known fact which, in a way, it was, "you and Zoey aren't."
"And that metaphor is a prime example of why I believe Hogwarts needs to add english language to the curriculum," I smiled.
"Remind me not to nominate you for head girl."
"You two amuse me," he said with with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders, "albeit unintentionally most of the time."
Me and Aiden both knew that Zoey would only go if I decided to accept the invitation so, since the party was a fortnight away, he said he'd give me up until a week on Thursday to change my mind before he asked someone else.
The bird before us sprang to life as we neared, stretching it's bronze wings gracefully, before settling back down to question us in it's usual melodic tone, "many have heard me, yet nobody has seen me, and I will not speak back unless spoken to first."
"What am I?"
I thought about it for a second.
An echo."I can never do these damn riddles," Zoey sighed, "sixteen times I slept out here in fourth year, sixteen."
I thought it was nearer somewhere in the vicinity of thirty five but I didn't question her on it. The second years at the time were rather nice about it though, whenever there was a party or some late night study group they'd leave a bottle of water and a blanket outside of the door for her incase she couldn't solve the riddle and there was nobody in the common room to let her in.
"Well you managed to do it earlier," I reasoned but she ignored me, instead opting to carry on with her self deprecating rant.
"- and I mean that was discounting the seventy six odd times Aria had to come and save me from my own stupidity."
"What about last year," Aiden asked, stopping her rant "how many times did you spend a night in the corridor then."
She looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Well none actually."
"See you're getting better," he smiled.
"Yeah I guess," she nodded, "well I mean, if you can define better as bribing a first year to let me through the door then sure I really have."
The kid didn't mind, he actually got quite a good deal out of it, a sickle a time, which meant he practically ran to the door every time Zoey called for him.
"Ah."
"Yes, ah."
"Will one of you just hurry up with the bloody riddle already," some boy shouted from the crowd of people that were beginning to accumulate behind us. They were numerous shouts of agreement and discontent from the students who'd been standing around watching Zoey rant when all they actually wanted was a nice warm bed to return to.
"An echo," I answered, to which the eagle nodded, allowing the door to swing open for us all. As I began to ascend yet another unnecessary staircase up to the Ravenclaw common room, Aiden called after me, "wait, did you know that this entire time?"
Zoey rolled her eyes fondly, "what do you think?"
I collapsed onto the sofa nearest the fire, relishing in it's warmth before anyone else could claim it for themselves. People began to flood into the common room, chatting away merrily with spirits so high that you'd think they'd forgotten that lessons begin tomorrow. Zoey sat down next to me, piling multiple cushions behind her back until she considered herself comfortable enough, "So," she began, "I think, as a reward for my outstanding performance in the James situation, I at least deserve an explanation."
"I want to hear this," Aiden yelled as he launched himself across the back of the sofa, eliciting an unhealthy creaking sound from the springs when he landed next to me. Kicking off his shoes, he put his feet up on the coffee table much to the annoyance of the young girl who was leaning on it. She huffed at him, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose but, as she was three years below us, she shoved her books to one side, choosing not to argue.
Respect your elders always seemed like a much better phrase when you were the older one in the situation.
I was about to protest, insisting that I would only tell Zoey about what happened as I wasn't exactly the sort who enjoyed sharing their problems but soon changed my mind when faced with the sort of hopeful expression he wore.
I did, however, threaten to throw him off the astronomy tower if he dared to tell anybody.
And so I began to explain this morning's events to them, starting with mine and James' less than pleasant conversation on the train and ending with how it lead to the considerably more entertaining incident with Chelsea McLaggen.
Her reply to all of this?
"Wait, are you telling me that James potter called you pretty?"
I let my head fall against the table with a dull thud, "does anyone in this damn school not have a thing for James Bloody Potter?"
"I don't," a voice piped up.
"Not helpful Aiden," I groaned.
Sorry it's been so long but here I am with the third chapter, but here's some good news for those of you who don't know:
IS BACK AND RUNNING ONCE MORE.
So I'm going to continue this story over there, (I think we're onto chapter six so far on there so definitely farther than here), but would people be interested in me continuing to post them here too?
So for those of you who read this who haven't come across from , there's another four chapters waiting for you over there, here's the link: Hopeless Manifestations