When I entered, almost everyone else was already there, talking in low whispers so it sounded as if bugs were in the room. They were all sitting around a small table. I took a seat next to Colin and was surprised to see there was still another empty seat next to me.
"Who's missing?" I questioned.
He checked also. "Malfoy."
"I hope he's not coming," I replied, but right then the doors swung open and he glided into the room. "Oh no… the only seat is next to me!"
He seemed to be thinking about the same thing. He just stood there, looking positively disgusted.
"Please, heave a seat, Mr. Malfoy," Headmaster Dumbledore asked politely.
Glaring at me, he sat down, moving as far away as possible.
I rolled my eyes. "Immature freak."
"Potter lover," he shot back.
I spit on his shoe. "I hate Potter, you pureblooded trash."
"You will be sent over by train; also known as Manner Mount. Please note that this trip will be an extreme difference, maybe even a life-changing experience for some of you…" Dumbledore began steadily.
A glint of something I couldn't quite place passed through his eyes. "We have something in common."
"Don't get too excited."
"Now, your luggage has been carried out already. I am expecting all of you do be responsible young adults. If anything goes wrong, I will consider the case and decide if you need to come back or not. Your carriages are waiting. Have fun, and good luck."
I quickly jumped up, ecstatic to get away from the grease head. Rushing outside, I found myself an empty seat, which led me, with a massive amount of creaking, to the train station.
A large, navy blue engine stood importantly before me, shining proudly and making me feel like an infant. My mouth dropped open. "Woah."
I clambered awkwardly onto the locomotive and walked down the gold encrusted isles. Surprisingly, each compartment was assigned to two people; I'd be sharing mine with a girl in her fourth year.
I slid open the door and literally felt my eyes grow wide; a bunk bed with navy blue sheets and sapphire linings took up a good bit of the miniature room. I smiled, realizing that the other girl was already in there.
She jumped up. "Hello. I'm Marsha Myers."
"Ginny Weasley," I replied.
Her accent was slightly thick; I knew I wouldn't forget it anytime soon. She must've come from a different part of England than myself.
"Isn't this amazing?" she asked eagerly. "It's almost too good to be true.
Yeah, I thought. Too good to be true.