The small girl with the curly hair stood on Platform 9¾ with rigid determination gleaming from her eyes. Determination for what, she didn't know, but as long as those around her didn't see a nervous, scratch that, terrified witch waiting for the illustrious crimson train to come rolling in, she didn't care.
Those around her. She looked down the vast stretch of track in both directions and saw no other soul. At this she smiled and looked at her watch, which read 10:06. She was an hour early.
Better than being an hour late, she thought. She wheeled her trolley to the wall and sat next to it, softly laying her head against the rough brick. Grabbing her wand (cherry, nine inches, dragon heartstring) she brought to her a thick paperback novel from a secret compartment on the side of her trunk. With a contented sigh she opened to a page near the middle and began reading. Within seconds her eyelids were sagging, and within minutes she had fallen asleep.
She was flying on her broom, her new Firebolt she'd been given just before the move. She raced along mere inches from the ground and allowed the soft grass to brush against her face. She jerked the broom up and in an instant she was forming a right angle with the field. A porch light flashed on in the distance and she heard a voice calling her from the house that seemed miles away.
"Bailey Rae Whitman, you come down from there RIGHT NOW! It's 2:00 in the morning! Don't make me come after you!"
With a sigh the girl, Bailey, slowed and drifted back to the earth, flying lazy circles at an even lazier speed. She touched down next to a barn, and immediately her mother scurried over to her.
"What was that? Have you gone mad? What were you thinking? Somebody might have seen you! Then where would this family be?!"
Bailey rolled her eyes, an act that went unnoticed in the near-blackness. "Mom, there wasn't even a moon out, it's two in the morning, NO ONE SAW ME!"
Her mother grabbed her shoulders and began shaking them violently. "You don't know that! What were you doing that for, miss? Miss? Mi—"
"—ss? Miss?"
The girl at the train station was jerked awake by a young man slightly shaking her shoulders. She stared in confusion at her surroundings (now bustling with young and old alike) before realizing where she was, and with the realization came pink-tinged embarrassment to her cheeks. She smiled at her human alarm clock and the worry lines in his forehead decreased, though did not disappear.
"Are you okay? I've been trying to wake you for at least a couple minutes."
She smiled at his accent (accents are always nice), but was unable to place it in her drowsy state. "Yeah, I'm fine, I never wake very easily. I'd probably sleep right through the death curse." The fully conscious portion of her brain (all 10% of it) was kicking her in the ass for making such a lame joke. The remaining 90% was laughing. She offered her hand to the boy kneeling in front of her. "My name's Bailey."
He smiled for the first time, and surprise shone in his rich brown eyes. "I'm Oliver Wood." Pause. "You're American!"
"Very observant, Mr. Wood! You must be at the top of your class with intellect such as that." She glanced at her watch and saw that the train was leaving in about ten minutes. She stood and massaged her sore neck for a moment and then, grabbing the handle of her trolley, turned to load her belongings but was surprised to see the boy named Wood now standing in front of her.
"Yes?" she questioned with an impish smile.
"Well, I'm sorry if I seem rude, but it isn't customary for Americans to board the Hogwarts train."
By this time several other clusters had paused in conversation to try to "subtly" eavesdrop, all equally curious of this strange new witch's background. A couple of girls appearing to be friends of Oliver's had even come up next to him, their giggles subsiding at the sight of the American.
Bailey was amused by the crowd and spoke to Oliver loudly enough for all others to hear. "I'm a transfer student. I attended Nalani in the States and was offered the chance to come to Hogwarts for my last year."
His eyes grew. "You're a seventh year?"
"Yes," she replied a bit defensively. "I'm certainly not repeating first year."
Oliver winced a little at the taste of his foot in his mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry. You just look so young. I thought you were fourth or fifth year."
Bailey passed defensive and went straight for indignant. "I'm 17!"
At this point, when Oliver looked completely helpless, the two girls standing behind him came to his rescue.
"Oh, don't worry about Ollie, he isn't known for his tact."
"Yeah, being quidditch captain has caused him to forget that most normal people can actually be offended."
"Of course, we're used to it by now. Whenever he gets that glint in his eye we tune him out."
"Which is most of the time."
The two girls giggled at Oliver's mock surprise at their admission. One girl (tall, blonde, athletic) shoved him playfully and smiled at Bailey.
"I'm Katie, and this is Alicia." Alicia, however, was whispering something to a red-head who had just wandered over. Katie leaned in closer to Bailey and whispered, "Between you and me, Alicia isn't exactly Miss Manners, either."
Bailey laughed a little and waved her hand to show it didn't matter. "That's okay. I expected as much, as I'm riding on rude British stereotypes, and me being a damn Yank…"
They laughed and Bailey immediately relaxed, and both the tension in her muscles and butterflies in her stomach flew from her body. Now Alicia turned to her again, with the red-head.
"This is Fred Weasley, and his brother George is over there, flirting with someone way out of his league," Alicia said. Bailey was surprised to see a duplicate of Fred standing about 20 feet away, smiling at a girl who was indeed way out of his league, and out of his age group.
"That's Lavender Brown's older sister, Daisy," Katie commented, with a slightly annoyed and somewhat disgusted look on her face. "She went to Hogwarts when we were in first year."
"So is George usually into the whole Mrs. Robinson thing?"
All four sets of eyes stared at Bailey. She felt a familiar pink warmth grow on her cheeks and a shy smile spread across her face. "Oh, American muggle movie. Sorry, quite forgot where I was for a moment." She said the last sentence with a British accent (bloody good one, she thought) and earned a warm, if somewhat confused, smile from Fred, Alicia and Katie. Oliver simply smiled.
"He's been known to cozy up to a professor or two to gain extra credit, but he has yet to fall in love with one of their daughter's."
Bailey's eyes widened with delight. "You've seen The Graduate?"
Oliver shrugged, trying to act casual but obviously excited about the shared interest. "Well, my dad's a muggle, and that's one of his favorite movies, so I've seen it as part of my 'cinematic education,' as he calls it."
"Oh my God, that's how I saw it, too!"
From the corner of her eye Bailey saw Alicia and Katie share a knowing glance, but she was too ecstatic about finding a wizard who actually knew about muggle movies (American ones at that!) to fully register what it meant.
The two girls each grabbed one of Fred's arms and began pulling him away. "We're gonna go save George from humiliation and then find a compartment," Katie called at Bailey and Oliver. "You should get your bags on board."
"Why don't you help her out, Oliver?"
"Honestly, Oliver, can't you be a gentleman once in your life?"
Katie and Alicia dissolved into giggles as they toted off the powerless Fred.