Sorry it's been so long! Where were we? Ah, yes. Our main character had just been knocked to the ground by a run-away trolley! What will happen next though?

A face peered at me through the ice as I started to sink to the bottom of the lake. My face was tingling, numb from the freezing water; even though I had only fallen a moment ago, my mind was already shutting down. As my body slowly floated to the surface, my eyes started to close, and the face above me grew darker…

"How long will it be," I wondered, "before my lungs collapse and I die?"

"What a strange question to ask," a fatherly voice said close by. "Don't worry, a nasty knock on the noggin never killed anyone."

I started, surprised to find that the lake had disappeared, only to be replaced by a hazy train terminal. A balding red-haired man with spectacles was peering at me curiously. "What odd eyes you have. "They're-blimey-is that silver at the edges! And then... light blue fading to dark blue! How on earth did your parents give you those eyes?" he asked innocently.

"Arthur!" a woman to the right of me admonished. I sat up slowly and turned to her, finding a fairly large woman with red hair and a warm smile. Behind her stood two boys, one obviously her son with bright red hair of his own. He had a small owl cage by his feet and the miniscule bird was flying around crazily and hooting non-stop. Already I didn't like it. The boy's battered trunks were sitting next to the cage, and I noticed the wear and tear they had apparently suffered. I looked back at his face and noticed how his hair fell in his blue eyes as he looked at his feet. The boy next to him was only slightly shorter but his features made him the more striking of the two. His bright green eyes stopped you with a look and his black hair looked as though it would never be controlled. He ran his hand through his hair in a ruffled and distracted gesture; that's when I saw it. The scar itself was famous, but the boy who sported it was a hero. I was sitting on the floor in front of Harry Potter.

I groaned slightly and immediately felt the woman's warm hand on my forehead. Harry looked down at me, a brief look of concern crossing his face. I started to stand up, but the woman stopped me.

"Dear, do you feel okay? Are you sure you should be standing up?" she asked concernedly.

I nodded slowly. I took it as a good sign that the train station didn't start spinning and slowly started to stand up again. A hand reached down to help me up and I looked up into the bright green eyes of Harry Potter. He lifted me fairly easily and I murmured a quick thank you as I brushed myself off.

"I'll be okay," I insisted.

"Nonsense," the woman said, brushing off my comment as though I had been commenting about the weather. "Ron—Harry—be dears and put her bag on the train with yours. Ginny—" she said, addressing a smaller girl who had been standing behind the red-haired boy in a somewhat stricter tone, one that made me decide to never get her cross at me, "Apologize and then go find Hermione please."

The girl flushed almost as red as her hair and said "I'm really sorry" in a barely audible voice before she turned and ran off. The woman next to me sighed.

"She really is such a good girl, but she grew up with so many rowdy brothers who didn't—well, often—use their heads. It was their idea to push the trolley through the barrier without looking for people beforehand. I'm hoping the youngest of my boys, Ron over there, and his friends will be a good example for her this year."

Ron and Harry returned, and the woman looked around as though something had just occurred to her.

"Ron, where's your father?"

Ron sighed and said, "Harassing Hermione's parents about the Muggle world." The woman sighed and muttered something about his fascination with Muggles before marching off, presumably to find him.

Ron, Harry and I stood in a slightly awkward pause before all three of us burst out with introductions. We started laughing and, the awkwardness disappearing, I took a deep breath and said, "I'm Aeryn. Aeryn Mitchells."

"It's nice to meet you, Aeryn," Ron said, shaking my hand. "I'm Ron. Ron Weasley. That was my mum who was fussing over you. My dad was here earlier, but at any mention of Muggles, he's off. He has a-er- slight fascination with them." Ron seemed embarrassed by his father's hobby but Harry covered it by introducing himself.

"I'm Harry. Harry Potter. I'm glad to meet you, Aeryn." I shook his hand, the warmth of his smile made me pause slightly.

"Are your parents with you?" Ron asked curiously, looking around the station. Yet again I felt that unfamiliar tug on my heart and shifted my gaze to the steam coming from the train as I responded. "They died when I was seven. I've been in an orphanage for wizarding children ever since."

Ron's face went beet red, and I kept talking to spare him any discomfort. "When I tested to come to Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore said I was missing a few key skills, but if I work hard they can enroll me as a sixth year. I was tempted to take it easy, but I want to be with people my own age. I want to be where I belong."

A train whistle pierced the air and my somber speech. I hadn't meant to be so serious since I had just met them, but as Mrs. Weasley saw us onto the train and Harry and Ron invited me to join them, I couldn't help but smile. Maybe this year would be better than I had imagined...