Pallid eyes traveled lazily to focus on the bright red frame of the Hogwarts Express, loud and noisy and steaming and anachronistic in a world of rapid sonic-speeded bullet trains. A familiar smirk wreathed itself beatifically over sharp-featured, chalky features, quirking the thin mouth upwards as the chilly gaze surveyed the rail cars of the steam engine. Malfoy moved forwards to step onto the platform of the train, sneer fading somewhat as he glanced over his shoulders, attempting to sight his parents. No, only two fair-haired heads, their backs already turned, moving away through the crowd.
The smirk soured into something very like a scowl, almost petulant in expression. They didn't care that he was leaving, did they? Well, he'd show them. At Hogwarts, he'd show /everyone/ what he could do. Malfoy supposed that among the filthy Mudbloods and riff-raff like those red-haired Weasleys, a crowd of them surrounding the train. The numerous suitcases next to him posed a small problem, though, which distracted him from the lower class types congregating around the Express.
"Hoy! Crabbe! Goyle! Help me with these." The two large boys had been staring aimlessly off into the distance, and snapped to attention at once, blinking dully at Malfoy. The pale boy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. As lackeys, indeed, they lacked much. The same as their parents, Malfoy thought darkly, a bunch of idiots without a leader, like chickens with their heads chopped off, running around and spurting their last life's blood all over the ground. Luckily the Malfoy family was around to save them from total ruin.
They boarded the train and Malfoy glanced over his shoulder again, subconsciously hoping to see his parents waving. There were other guardians there to see their children off, he saw, and a flare of jealousy sent a flush to his bloodless face, seeing the plump Weasley mother waving to her children, and a little girl calling out to her brothers as well. What was he /thinking/? They were trash, nothing more, and he had nothing at all to be envious about. Why, he bet that they had to scrimp and save just to send their children to school at all.
He disappeared inside the train, confident of his future: he would enter Hogwarts and he would claw his way to the top. And then, Mother and Father could never, ever ignore him again.
-----
Ron Weasley watched the Hogwarts Express, feeling slightly sick to his stomach. The flaming red train confronted him solemnly, screeching and spewing its smoke and venom for the world to see. Fred and George chattered and joked with each other around him, as well, but he didn't really hear him. All of Ron's attention was focused on the train before him, either a cheerful herald to the world at hand, or else a Charon threatening to drag him down to the underworld of obscurity.
"Ickle Ronnikins!" George exclaimed, grabbing his arm and whirling him around in a wild parody of a dance.
"Why so blue?" Fred added, just after, as both twins watched their little brother with identical expressions.
"Leave me alone," Ron grumbled, jerking his arm away. He knew that he sounded uncharacteristically snappy, but the train, and what it promised, scared him – Ron didn't like to admit it, but he was terrified. The sickly feeling in his stomach twisted and gnawed slowly at his innards. What if he didn't live up to expectations? Bill, and Charlie, and now Percy; all of them had been something special, above and beyond the pale.
Whatever I do, it won't matter. They were there first. That's why I'm 'blue,' Fred. That's why I feel like punching you right now, George. Ron sighed and picked up his one, rather ragged suitcase, shouldering it easily and wandering towards the train. They said that Harry Potter was on the train.. No use in worrying, really. Whatever was about to happen, he shoved it out of his mind, and decided to worry about the fact that Mum had packed corn beef sandwiches, yet again – at least that didn't make his stomach turn acrobatic maneuvers.
-----
Hermione peered eagerly at the train before her, focusing on all the details about it. The girl turned to wave once to her parents, who stood nervously before the train in Muggle clothes, watching anxiously as their only daughter disappeared from their view. She bit her lip for a moment, tears misting her eyes – no; crying wouldn't do anyone any good. She was going away, and that was that.
To occupy herself and take her mind off her parents, she moved officiously into the train compartments, bustling ahead of her. Anxious, perhaps, but never frightened. What awaited her at Hogwarts was entirely of her own choosing, and Hermione supposed that she was amply prepared for whatever the wizard world would have to toss at her. She smiled and fingered the wand lightly where it rested in pockets of her robes. The fact that she was of Muggle birth would have nothing to do with that, of course – she would become a witch that any pureblood would envy.
The smirk soured into something very like a scowl, almost petulant in expression. They didn't care that he was leaving, did they? Well, he'd show them. At Hogwarts, he'd show /everyone/ what he could do. Malfoy supposed that among the filthy Mudbloods and riff-raff like those red-haired Weasleys, a crowd of them surrounding the train. The numerous suitcases next to him posed a small problem, though, which distracted him from the lower class types congregating around the Express.
"Hoy! Crabbe! Goyle! Help me with these." The two large boys had been staring aimlessly off into the distance, and snapped to attention at once, blinking dully at Malfoy. The pale boy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. As lackeys, indeed, they lacked much. The same as their parents, Malfoy thought darkly, a bunch of idiots without a leader, like chickens with their heads chopped off, running around and spurting their last life's blood all over the ground. Luckily the Malfoy family was around to save them from total ruin.
They boarded the train and Malfoy glanced over his shoulder again, subconsciously hoping to see his parents waving. There were other guardians there to see their children off, he saw, and a flare of jealousy sent a flush to his bloodless face, seeing the plump Weasley mother waving to her children, and a little girl calling out to her brothers as well. What was he /thinking/? They were trash, nothing more, and he had nothing at all to be envious about. Why, he bet that they had to scrimp and save just to send their children to school at all.
He disappeared inside the train, confident of his future: he would enter Hogwarts and he would claw his way to the top. And then, Mother and Father could never, ever ignore him again.
-----
Ron Weasley watched the Hogwarts Express, feeling slightly sick to his stomach. The flaming red train confronted him solemnly, screeching and spewing its smoke and venom for the world to see. Fred and George chattered and joked with each other around him, as well, but he didn't really hear him. All of Ron's attention was focused on the train before him, either a cheerful herald to the world at hand, or else a Charon threatening to drag him down to the underworld of obscurity.
"Ickle Ronnikins!" George exclaimed, grabbing his arm and whirling him around in a wild parody of a dance.
"Why so blue?" Fred added, just after, as both twins watched their little brother with identical expressions.
"Leave me alone," Ron grumbled, jerking his arm away. He knew that he sounded uncharacteristically snappy, but the train, and what it promised, scared him – Ron didn't like to admit it, but he was terrified. The sickly feeling in his stomach twisted and gnawed slowly at his innards. What if he didn't live up to expectations? Bill, and Charlie, and now Percy; all of them had been something special, above and beyond the pale.
Whatever I do, it won't matter. They were there first. That's why I'm 'blue,' Fred. That's why I feel like punching you right now, George. Ron sighed and picked up his one, rather ragged suitcase, shouldering it easily and wandering towards the train. They said that Harry Potter was on the train.. No use in worrying, really. Whatever was about to happen, he shoved it out of his mind, and decided to worry about the fact that Mum had packed corn beef sandwiches, yet again – at least that didn't make his stomach turn acrobatic maneuvers.
-----
Hermione peered eagerly at the train before her, focusing on all the details about it. The girl turned to wave once to her parents, who stood nervously before the train in Muggle clothes, watching anxiously as their only daughter disappeared from their view. She bit her lip for a moment, tears misting her eyes – no; crying wouldn't do anyone any good. She was going away, and that was that.
To occupy herself and take her mind off her parents, she moved officiously into the train compartments, bustling ahead of her. Anxious, perhaps, but never frightened. What awaited her at Hogwarts was entirely of her own choosing, and Hermione supposed that she was amply prepared for whatever the wizard world would have to toss at her. She smiled and fingered the wand lightly where it rested in pockets of her robes. The fact that she was of Muggle birth would have nothing to do with that, of course – she would become a witch that any pureblood would envy.