Third Year: When Willow's Life Changed

by Sylvar Noriel

[On HOLD due to personal issues] Willow Neeson was the odd kid in the corner, the one who's odd interests and behavior caused her to be shunned by her classmates. But everything changed in her Third Year. (Rated K . I guess it's sort of AU, I'm terrible at following the plot. Please, bear with me.)

3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for my OC.

Note: Sorry for the mixed point-of-views in the last chapter, my mind was slightly out of control that day.

Thank you all of you for your favorites, and even for viewing! Means a lot to me.

She woke up to the sound of the train wheels screeching to a halt, throwing her against the back of the seat in front of her, and sending her luggage spilling out onto the aisle, all her books, paintings, and clothes. Her face red, she quickly leaped up and started gathering her items.

The twins leaped up to help her, but George absentmindedly picked up one of her paintings and examined it. He would be lying to say that he didn't admire her style, not only was it a vivid picture of color and beauty, emotion and movement were painted into it.

She looked up, and her face paled as he saw his eyes moving across the canvas. A shock ran down her spine, a sickly feeling in her gut as she watched him inspect it.

He looked at her, she looked pale, terrified even. He slowly handed back the painting and smiled at her, then put some more things back in her bag.

It took a moment to recover, her heart was still racing wildly and panic coursing through her body. She put the paintings back into her bag, then sat back down, her thick waves of hair hanging over her face like a curtain.

Sensing the awkward air, the twins left the coach and walked down the now mostly empty halls.

She breathed, in, out, in out, then got up. The train blew the second whistle, and she ran down the now very empty halls, and out of the train, where everyone was waiting for the carriages to arrive. Sitting down on a bench, she looked at everyone around her, students with ages ranging from second years to seventh years, all of them had either an expression of excitement or disappointment on their faces.

The horseless carriages came rolling up the road, and students crowded in, squabbling with each other for who sits with who.

She waited until they were all gone, and the last carriage came rolling up. She could see the outline of the Thestral pulling the carriage. She smiled as it nickered, pawing the ground, waiting for someone to get on. She leaped up to her feet and got inside, and the carriage rolled down the road, and into the dismal foggy weather that awaited them.