A.N. Wow, guys, your reviews are fantastic. xD I love them so much, they keep me going with this story. It's coming fast because I've done a few chapters beforehand, but It'll be going slow very shortly. :( Sorry, guys. Still, your compliments are SO appreciated, you have no idea, and it's great to know people like my writing. 8) If you've gotten this far, I'd like to warn you that this takes place in fourth year (God forbid!), and yes, the IC storyline will be twisted. :( There IS going to be the Triwizard tournament, if you haven't noticed from Mrs. Weasley's odd behavior. A little more AN to read, don't worry--I'm awfully sorry this chapter's so short, but I didn't see how I could merge it with the others. / they kinda have to be together.

Anyway, to end my painfully long AN, enjoy this chapter. ;3 I hope that you're quite interested in what will happen with Nyx...I'm rather looking forward to writing her. Ciao!


-Spiffs

And I don't want the world to see me,

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am.

With a clatter, suitcase, cauldron and books scattered across the ground. People barely stopped to look now, merely parting themselves between the fallen girl, and moving on. Nyx wasn't sure she should be angry, or relieved, because falling through the portal to this…place…wasn't something she wanted everyone to see.

They all seemed in their normal element here. Was she in a different country? She had felt magic laced with something else intertwined with the bricks as she fell through, a mere brush against the back of her mind. It took a few moments to register, but as her eyes fell across the flapping, metal sign shouting, 'Platform Nine and Three Quarters', to the world, she began to realize where she had fallen through.

She felt relief and happiness pour through her, and she watched the train at the tracks. She had a good ten or fifteen minutes before it actually left—it was nice, really, to be early. Gray green eyes swept across the large black mechanism, and she wasn't sure what was going to happen when she got on. She felt magic all around her, freely floating here and there, bobbing in higher places, and laying on objects. She felt the ground beneath her laden with protective spells of some sort, and as she pressed her hand to the once un solid wall, she felt currents of heavy spells lacing through her fingers. Instantly she drew back, on her feet, staring at the train again.

The whistle blew once, merrily, while jets of steam poured upward, twisting to the atmosphere and dissipating into nothing. The warning bell caught her, forcing her back to Earth and concentrating. Hastily she dropped back to her knees, gathering her books to her, up righting her cart, and shoving everything into it at once.

"And who are you?" Asked a voice in a sneering fashion. Nyx took a moment to look up, fingers hovering over a spellbook lying open on the ground. Her eyes lifted, catching sight of a boy with sharp features, lacey silvery blonde hair falling into his face. His voice matched his face, a cold reflection of a sneer. He wasn't bad looking at all, actually. The fact that he held himself in such a cocky manner, eyes looking her up and down as though he knew what was better and what was not, made him seem uglier. She caught his eye for a moment, gave a small smile, and looked down, choosing not to answer the question. Instead, she focused on getting all her books into her cauldron, and then into the cart.

"I said who are you?" She could almost see him folding his arms, though her eyes were locked on the ground, sweeping all she could to her chest. Dumping it all into her cauldron and placing that on top of her suitcases, she got up, rising to her full height, trying to figure out this chap.

"Nyx Shyamm." She responded, giving a small smile that could be interpreted as shy, and wheeling her cart off, not bothering to glance at the boy. She could hear his footsteps as she marched towards the train, wheeling the slightly bent cart as best she could. She felt the hot of the steam from the trains, searching for a place to store her luggage, while the boy with startlingly light hair sped up to find a place beside her.

"Draco Malfoy," he panted, barely doubling over as he held out a hand to shake. She observed it for a moment, and grasped it quickly, letting it rise and fall before her hand went back to the handle of the cart, moving it back and forth gently, in a rocking motion. She could feel his eyes bore into her, as he probably did to many, the disgusted look that seemed jammed into his face barely flinching into another emotion as he tried a smile. It came out as a small smirk. "You a Slytherin?" He asked, as though it were a question everyone asked. Off hand, barely a breeze of a question. Nyx looked uncomfortable, desperately wishing to find the man who would take her luggage. "Well—" She began, fumbling with a loose thread in her jacket. She was suddenly aware everyone was wearing their robes, except for the straggling first years looking just as bewildered as her, though they had their parents as comfort, offering their black Hogwarts robes. Nyx looked away, realizing she still hadn't answered. "Well—" she started over, trying to catch the words she couldn't find. How the heck could she explain it all?

"I'm new here." She tried, testing the words she'd have to use over and over again on her tongue. They rolled in a distinct way, giving her an unpleasant taste. It was going to be an odd year.

Draco was silent, and Nyx ventured a look. It still held his haughty sneer, but it was tinted with a look of disgust. "You don't look like a first year." He commented, giving her a flick-of-the-eye-up-and-down look. She paled, and then blushed, hands sliding across the width of the handle. "I—it's a long story." She sighed, blowing through her lips in an exasperated manner. Draco looked like he was about to walk away. Fine by her. He carried such an air of haughty rudeness, it was hard getting her words straight. They stood in awkward silence, before she heard a string of snorts and chuckles from her fair haired companion as he walked away, back vibrating with laughter he didn't bother holding back in front of her.

That stung. Fighting back insults and swallowing the tears threatening to appear, she shoved her cart forward again, eyes seeking for the last time the man who was to take her luggage.