The Hogwarts Express feels colder than I could remember. Perhaps it was due to my parents abrupt departure from the platform just a few hours earlier or the low clouds that now hung suddenly outside the train. Whatever the reason, the chill has crept it's way into my bones causing me to pull my robes tighter around myself as I walk the length of the corridor.
Just as the train had barely begun its journey, Hera and the new Head Boy from Gryffindor held the new prefects meeting as soon as the train started to move. I recognized my some of my peers and eyed the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor prefects respectively.
To the left of me, there was Fern Adamson, a Hufflepuff who I have worked briefly with in potions classes the years prior, she smiled tentatively in my direction when we made eye contact and tried to return the greeting with a friendly grin back. Nearby there was Ophelia Markswood, a know it all Ravenclaw, who looked as bored as I felt listening to my sister drone on about responsibility. Almost as if Ophelia had already heard it all.
On the other side of train compartment was Alsander Fox, the attractive blonde from Gryffindor that my friend Renata had drooled over since our third year and finally, Sebastian Hawthorne, my fellow 5th year Slytherin prefect. I knew briefly from the Common Room and from different dinner parties our families have attended over the years. Overall, I was not surprised to see any of these individuals proudly wearing their new prefects badges.
"Being a prefect is the highest honor," Hera continued but her eyes aimed directly on me. I suddenly felt the same overwhelming pressure that mother caused whenever she stared at me for too long. "It won't be easy, but Percy and I trust that you'll continue to follow the path paved for you by so many great wizards and witches at Hogwarts. We look forward to working with you this year."
Fern Adamson began clapping at the end of my sisters speech, but she was the only one. Her claps slowly broke off as her cheeks filled with a pink blush. My sister frowned annoyed and clearly embarrassed by the unnecessary outburst, but Hera tried her best to turn it into an appreciative smile. It made her look like she was holding in something sick. I knew Fern wasn't trying to embarrass Hera, but I would have to remember to thank her someday.
"You lot have the first shift. It lasts for an hour, you're each given a station on the train. Do not leave your position until another prefect from your house comes to relieve you" Percy Weasley added with an excited grin. Hera said nothing else but waved her hand to signal that she was finished with us. I knew what it meant immediately and led my peers out the compartment and back into the train corridor for our first shift as Hogwarts prefects.
A fanged frisbee whits past my head, pulling me from my thoughts. I scoff in surprise and shoot a glance at the second years who were now running into their train compartment. Waiting until they appeared back into the corridor to see if they could retrieve their banned toy before snapping it under my boots I smile in their direction and wave. I might be dreading the responsibility but there was something satisfying, watching the excited gleam in their eyes disappear.
Hera has always been the leader, the rule keeper, the one who never has a problem letting others know what they need to do. I enjoy sitting in her shadow, but right now I can understand why she enjoys this power. Why mother enjoys holding the small things above us. The thought makes me shiver and I push my mother's gaze from my mind, suddenly feeling guilty for snapping the toy beneath my feet.
I pull my robe closer once more, dispose the broken pieces of the frisbee, and continue pacing back and forth at my post.
"I think that's her" I hear someone whisper before they realize their train compartment door is open. They slam it shut quickly and I hear the muffled shrieks of laughter. I am used to people staring, but I am not used to the whispering. I am not used to the humiliation of being a topic of discussion for someone else's poor mistake. It seems that because Sirius Black's escape has been the topic of the day, in return so have my sisters and myself.
From what I could see, Hera, per usual, is unbothered by the attention. Occasionally she will scooch past my station on the train without even acknowledging my existence. It seems that her new title of Head Girl has rewarded her with more responsibility than she realized. Or she really could just not be bothered to acknowledge me.
Astra, on the the other hand, has taken to hiding in her compartment with her friends nearby. In the past hour and 45 minutes that I have been on watch, she has poked her head out of the compartment 7 times to see if I was still guarding outside. During the last time, I pressed a galleon into her hand and asked her to busy herself with a snack.
"Trade some chocolate cards or something" I hissed and she hadn't peeked outside since. I should have felt bad, but Astra should know better. If they know we're bothered by their whispers - they'll never stop.
The chill of the train bit more harshly now and I busied myself with reminding a couple of first years that if they didn't know magic, they had no business to be waving their wands in each other's faces. Waving them off and l continuing my line down the train, I had become familiar with the groups in each compartment.
Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole, both Slytherin's from my year were sitting with the rest of their Quidditch team. My cousin, Draco, and his oaf friends looking rather out of place in the conversation.
Each time I passed, Peregrine would nod with a smile in my direction and I quietly hoped he wouldn't ask me to sit with them whenever another prefect relieved me from my shift. He had started writing me letters this summer and out of "politeness" my mother forced me to write back. I knew better though, boys like Peregrine Derrick didn't just start writing letters out of the blue unless our families had ulterior motive. The same thing had happened to Hera with Marcus Flint the summer before her fifth year and there was already a talk of a summer marriage, once they finished their last year at Hogwarts of course.
That's how it is with pure blooded families. Can't have anyone marry in than isn't perfect.
I shudder at the thought, Sure, Peregrine is handsome, smart, and a pure blood but I couldn't imagine a fate worst than being married at 17. Or being married at 17 to someone named after a falcon.
In the compartment a few doors down were a handful of Gryffindors from my year. Fred and George Weasley being the most recognizable. They have their heads pressed together and I know from their reputation that they were planning something, but even with my status of prefect, I knew better than to get involved. Trying to stop them would likely lead to me being the butt of their next prank and I would steer clear of any involvement in that.
The chill of the train has become unbearable and my breath swirls around me like smoke. Strange. Even stranger, the train lurches to a sudden and desperate stop.
I stumble forward, hitting the glass of the compartment next to me. Straightening myself I watch in curiosity as the lights on the train flicker off one by one. There was no way we could be at Hogwarts yet.
"Stay in your compartments" I warn before shutting the one next to me with a click. "Lumos."
My wand floods the walkway of the train with light and I can just make out the shape of another prefect on the opposite end. Beginning my way towards them I feel my heart suddenly slow. A weight beginning to crush me as if - as if there was no more happiness left to experience in the world.
The prefect at the other end of the train suddenly disappears into a compartment and it takes my brain only a moment to understand why.
Floating down the long corridor, the dementor is larger than any textbook could have prepared me for. It's a shadowy figure taking almost the full corridor as it glides towards me. My feet feel cemented to the floor as if I have lost all control of my own limbs. What would happen if I could not move out of the way?
Suddenly, there are hands pulling me into the compartment I'm next too. I stumble over my own frozen feet and land heavily onto the train seat, atop of the person who pulled me in.
"Shh," they whisper. "Everyone shut it."
The train compartment is dead silent and I am more aware of the beating of my own heart than I have been for the past 15 years. Whoever had pulled me into the compartment has quietly shifted me off of them, but we are still so close I can feel their soft, quick breaths against my skin. We sit for what feels like hours as dementors float back and forth on the path I just stood.
Finally, once it feels like I cannot sit in silence any longer, the train begins to move forward and the lights flicker back on. Adjusting back to the brightness, I am surprised to find myself face to face with George Weasley. For a moment, he sees just as surprised to see me, but his face finally breaks into a smirk.
"You okay?" He asks but before I can respond I am interrupted.
"Surprised they didn't stop in here," the other voice says from the opposite side of the compartment and I recognize his twin, Fred. "Being Sirius Black's niece and the daughter of a Death Eater sounds just as incriminating as being a mass murderer."
The snickers sound within the compartment and I fix my face into a cool and bored expression. Despite being in the same year, I have always been mindful to stay clear of the Weasley twins. It seems my luck was running thin.
I stare down Fred and the girl next to him who had been the first and loudest to laugh. I stare until she averts her eyes from me. Unfortunately, Fred Weasley doesn't seem to be easily stirred. I take this moment of defeat silently, but refuse to break my eye contact as begin to leave the compartment.
"Blood traitors should be more aware of who they address, especially when someone has a mass murderer for an uncle floating about." Before he can retort, I slam the compartment door shut behind me and stomp down the corridor before the hot tears of frustration can slip down my cheeks.