A/N: OK, I extremely suck at writing accents so just…add them in. If you're reading this, you probably know who everyone is anyway so you know what they sound like.

Chapter 04

Phoenix's knees hit the ground hard and she sucked in a breath between her teeth. Then she looked up and completely forgot her pain. All around her were young wizards talking with older ones, owls screeching from every direction and at the place of honor was a scarlet steam engine, blowing smoke into the air as it bellowed.

"Alright, miss, I'll take that, move along," a wizard in his twenties said, pulling the soccer ball from her hand and tossing into a trunk labeled Used Portkeys.

She pulled her trunk from the Portkey landing zone and headed toward the train. A set of redheaded twins helped her get it up the stairs. "You a first year?" one of them asked as he took one handle of her trunk and the other twin took the other.

"Yeah. I almost didn't make it either," she said a little bitterly.

"American?" the other asked, recognizing her lack of an English accent. "How'd you manage?"

"Long story," she shrugged, almost wishing she hadn't said anything. She wasn't quite ready for everyone to know she was a mutant.

"Well, I'm Fred Weasely, that's George. We're in our third year now," the first introduced.

"I'm Phoenix Hart," she offered.

"Hart, Hart…"George said thoughtfully. "Your Minister of Magic is 'Hart' isn't he?"

"Yeah, that's my dad," she nodded.

"Well…no offense here, Phoenix, but couldn't you have gone to an American magic school with your dad as minister?" Fred pointed out.

"Again, that ties into the long story," she said regretfully.

"Alright, we know what it's like to need to keep secrets," George said, winking at his twin who smiled back. "We'll see you around, Phoenix Hart."

The twins ducked into a compartment of their own and left Phoenix to pull her trunk down to the end of one of the cars. She glanced through the window of one of the compartments. It looked empty so she pushed the door open and lugged her trunk in, sliding it under one of the seats. She flopped back on the seat with a sigh and jumped a little. In the corner, where she wouldn't have seen it from the door was a person wrapped in a black cloak, the hood up and pulled down. It looked like it had his feet on the seat, tucked under its cloak. "Oh, wow, I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "I, uh…I didn't see you from the doorway."

"It's no problem," a shy quiet voice said from the depths of the hood. It was accented but she couldn't tell by what country.

"Do you mind if I stay here?" she asked, unsure of what to make of the creature.

Its shoulders shrugged.

"Well, um…I'm Phoenix Hart," she said, offering her hand.

He drew away from her but responded "Kurt Wagner."

She thought she was beginning to pick up on his accent. "Where you from, Kurt?"

"Munich," he responded shortly. She knew he was trying to give her hints to let her know that he didn't want to engage in conversation. But Phoenix had never been exceptional good at taking hints.

"Got a Quidditch team?" she asked, leaning against the window and putting her feet up.

The hood shook.

"I'm more into the International League," she continued. "So, since I'm from the states, I naturally prefer the Stars 'n' Stripes."

"Their Chasers are very talented but they need a new Keeper," Kurt blurted and she had the feeling regretting encouraging her in her attempts at a conversation.

"You speak in full sentences!" she cried elatedly.

"Occasionally," he said and she thought he heard a smile on his voice. It was hard to tell without being able to see his face.

"So what's with the cloak?" she asked. "I can't see you at all."

"Good," he said tightly, any trace of a smile gone.

"C'mon, it can't be that bad," she said. "What, did you wake up with a huge zit on your nose right before grabbing the Portkey to magic school?"

"I wish," he said darkly.

"Well, what's the problem?" she asked. When he didn't respond, she said "Look, you can't hide forever. At Hogwarts, they have dormitories that you sleep in so at least the people you share one with are gonna know."

"I'll go as long as I can," he said stubbornly.

"Are…are you a mutant?" she asked hesitantly. He didn't respond. "Look, I am too, there's not a whole lot that'll surprise me any more."

"You…you're a mutant?" he asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I've known for about three years now," she said.

"What's your mutation?" he asked, sounding almost eager.

"Let me see your hand," she said, holding out her own. He hesitated. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

He slowly unearthed his hand from his cloak and held it out. It was dark blue in color with only three thick fingers. She didn't say anything but took it in her hand, triggering her own mutation. He shivered a bit. "What was that?"

"It didn't hurt, did it?" she asked worriedly. It had never hurt anyone before.

"No…nice actually," he admitted. "What'd you do?"

She kicked off her shoes and socks, just in case. She wore mostly baggy clothes just in case but feet were the biggest anomaly with her mutation so she preferred to take them off. She concentrated on the blue hand, the only piece of him she'd seen that wasn't covered by a cloak. She looked at her hands as they melded together and went from normal flesh tones to an unhealthy oxygen-deprived blue to the dark blue that had been on Kurt's hands. It was a good thing she'd taken off her shoes too since her feet splayed out into three matching digits. Her hair stayed black but shortened a great deal. She (well, now technically a he) suddenly jumped, crying out in a voice that was deeper than her own. She reached behind her and tugged the long, whip-like tail from the back of her pants, the spade edge waving next to her. "You have a tail?" she asked incredulously, using his voice but her own accent. It was somehow unnerving to Kurt.

"You…you're a shape shifter?" the real Kurt asked, having a hard time comprehending himself sitting before him in a red tank top and black jeans.

"As long as I touch the person, get a piece of them inside me," she said, looking around her upper body. "You're pretty built, Kurt. You play sports or something?"

"I was an acrobat in the Munich Circus," he told her.

Kurt's features melted back into Phoenix. "Well, since now I know what you look like…?"

Kurt pulled his hood back, not meeting her eyes. His eyes, which she hadn't been able to see on herself were a bright yellow, his teeth all came to slight points as did his ears.

"See?" she said. "No big deal."

He smiled slightly.