Marin took off eagerly as soon as her robes fluttered through the barrier after her. Wide-eyed and smiling, she dragged her trunk, which was rattling loudly. She saw many people dressed in billowing robes, the women looking regal and poised as their robes nipped in at the waist, and the men looking formidable, with trailing robes that would rival any Muggle tailcoat. Parents hugged their children as they boarded the great crimson and black train that sat eagerly on the tracks, steaming consistently, as though puffing in anticipation. The locomotive had a large bronze plate on the side of the engine, which read Hogwarts Express in large, bold letters. Marin squealed excitedly and loaded her own trunk onto the luggage cart.
She stepped onto the train and wandered carefully through the cars, trying to find somewhere to sit. She eavesdropped on the conversations going on as she passed compartments.
"See, Flitwick set such a long essay,"
"I can't wait for quidditch to start up again,"
"-crazy, I've always said, just prowling about with that bloody cat-"
"Excuse me?" Marin suddenly asked a group of older looking boys, who looked up at her with bored expressions.
"Yes?" one drawled. Marin gulped. Maybe this was not such a good idea.
"Umm, I was just wondering if you knew where the first years sit." She said, her voice getting softer with every word.
The boys laughed. "Anywhere, girlie. There's no assigned seats. But the Slytherins own this compartment. So since you're not a snake, move on."
Oblivious to the unfriendly attitudes of the boys, Marin's eyes lit up. "Oh, Slytherins! I've read about that house! Is it true that Merlin himself was a Slytherin?" she asked eagerly.
The boys glanced at one another. The tall one who had sat quietly in the corner, stood, towering over Marin.
"Is it true? Say, firstie, what's your surname?" he sneered.
"Uhm, Ferlet. Why?" Marin asked, frowning.
"Ferlet…well, gents, I don't believe I know that name. Think we found ourselves a filthy little mudblood?" He snarled. The boys laughed menacingly.
Marin was very confused now. "Mudblood? What's that?" She didn't like this.
"You, you filthy little muggle." another boy said.
"I'm not a muggle, I'm a witch!" Marin cried, crossing her arms.
"You have muggle blood. Dirty blood. Get out, you filthy little mudblood. Trash doesn't belong in this compartment. Or in Hogwarts. You're lucky Dumbledore lets your kind in. Animals, I say. Get out!"
Marin ran from the compartment, tears stinging her eyes. She didn't know there was anything wrong with having muggle parents. She'd never heard anything as mean as what those horrible boys had said to her. Filth? She wasn't filth! She wasn't an animal! Right?!
Lost in her thoughts, tears streaming freely down her face, she collided straight into a tall, black-haired boy with glasses.
"Sorry!" She said, her voice cracking. The boy looked about her age, but she really didn't want a repeat of earlier.
"It's alright," the boy said. "Hey, are you crying?"
She wiped her eyes angrily. "No!" Marin huffed.
"Come on, what's the matter? I'm James, by the way." He stuck his hand out.
