Chapter One
Felicité was waiting at Platform 9¾, watching first-years nervously stumble in through the false wall. She had a look of smug amusement on her face that would have really irritated the first-years if they had noticed. Suddenly, she was off her trunk and on the floor.
"Ow! Watch it," she snapped to the person who had bumped into her. Getting up to see who it was, she found herself face to face with a boy her age. All she noticed was the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead.
Harry Potter had bumped into a girl while he was not paying attention to his trunk. He had offered a hand, which she did not take. She pushed herself up and looked into his face.
"Er, sorry about that. I, uh, wasn't really paying attention," he mumbled. He noticed that her green eyes were traveling up to the scar on his forehead. He braced himself for the routine astonishment, the awe in her voice, so he was not prepared for her reaction.
Her eyes narrowed with dark hostility, and she tightened her mouth. "Harry Potter," she growled. "And company." Her eyes flicked scornfully to Ron and Hermione behind him.
"Yes. Er, I am sorry, I."
"If I were you, I wouldn't go around bumping into people like me. If I were you, I would be a lit-tle more careful," she said in a low, angry voice, putting heavy meaning on the word careful. She stalked away, her trunk following her in the air.
Harry Potter was dumbstruck. "What is her problem?"
"Dunno, mate," said Ron sympathetically. "Some girls are just like that. Not you, Hermione," he added hastily, as she glared at him.
"Have we seen her before?" Hermione asked.
"I don't think so. I would've remembered her," said Ron.
Hermione smacked his arm "Ron!"
"Hey!"
"Maybe she's a new student."
Before they could continue their discussion, the Hogwarts Express chugged into the station, tooting and belching smoke.
Felicité was trying to calm her breathing. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought. I can't be so damn obvious. Curse it! But, oh, if it weren't for him, the whole ordeal would be over before she was one year old. But now. Oh, honestly, I can scream later, she told herself. Now I just need to find a seat on the train. Preferably away from that trio. She climbed onto the train.
A/N: Sorry so short. I would really appreciate reviews, thanks!
Felicité was waiting at Platform 9¾, watching first-years nervously stumble in through the false wall. She had a look of smug amusement on her face that would have really irritated the first-years if they had noticed. Suddenly, she was off her trunk and on the floor.
"Ow! Watch it," she snapped to the person who had bumped into her. Getting up to see who it was, she found herself face to face with a boy her age. All she noticed was the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead.
Harry Potter had bumped into a girl while he was not paying attention to his trunk. He had offered a hand, which she did not take. She pushed herself up and looked into his face.
"Er, sorry about that. I, uh, wasn't really paying attention," he mumbled. He noticed that her green eyes were traveling up to the scar on his forehead. He braced himself for the routine astonishment, the awe in her voice, so he was not prepared for her reaction.
Her eyes narrowed with dark hostility, and she tightened her mouth. "Harry Potter," she growled. "And company." Her eyes flicked scornfully to Ron and Hermione behind him.
"Yes. Er, I am sorry, I."
"If I were you, I wouldn't go around bumping into people like me. If I were you, I would be a lit-tle more careful," she said in a low, angry voice, putting heavy meaning on the word careful. She stalked away, her trunk following her in the air.
Harry Potter was dumbstruck. "What is her problem?"
"Dunno, mate," said Ron sympathetically. "Some girls are just like that. Not you, Hermione," he added hastily, as she glared at him.
"Have we seen her before?" Hermione asked.
"I don't think so. I would've remembered her," said Ron.
Hermione smacked his arm "Ron!"
"Hey!"
"Maybe she's a new student."
Before they could continue their discussion, the Hogwarts Express chugged into the station, tooting and belching smoke.
Felicité was trying to calm her breathing. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought. I can't be so damn obvious. Curse it! But, oh, if it weren't for him, the whole ordeal would be over before she was one year old. But now. Oh, honestly, I can scream later, she told herself. Now I just need to find a seat on the train. Preferably away from that trio. She climbed onto the train.
A/N: Sorry so short. I would really appreciate reviews, thanks!