Chapter 2

Dramatis Personae

The first of September, 10:45 AM. This was the fifth time that I'd stood here on Platform 9 ¾, waiting for the Hogwarts Express' arrival, and somehow it still felt every bit as exciting as the first time had. I was surrounded on all sides by swarming young witches and wizards, as well as their ever-fussing parents, just as I had been the first time. The clatter of the trolleys, the screeching of jostled owls, the indecipherable roar of the multitude of conversations around me...everything was exactly as I remembered it.

"It's just like you remember it, isn't it?" asked a voice beside me. I turned and saw the pale face and green eyes of Adam Thorne, an old acquaintance, and the very model of a modern Slytherin. "You stay away from our world for far too long," he told me, smiling.

Perhaps a small digression is in order here. As mentioned, my name is Sebastian Crane. My first name was given to me by my mother, a witch, and my last name comes from my father, a Muggle. Soon after I was born, my mother walked out on us and disappeared. I never met her, and in fact I do not even recall what she looked like. Because of this, I knew nothing of the Wizarding world until my acceptance letter from Hogwarts arrived. Dad nearly threw it out before he realized who it was from. If you think you've had "the talk," you haven't seen anything until you've seen your father trying to explain to you that you're a wizard. At first, I thought the whole thing was a really lame joke, but I'd never seen my father look more serious in my life. I was really furious with him for a while after that. I mean, how the hell could he have gone all these years without telling me? What right did he have to lie to me like that? It was a while before I came to understand his point of view, but even so, my relationship with my father had been...less than ideal ever since.

"I don't exactly have a choice, you know," I reminded Adam. He was endlessly suggesting that I seek out my mother and go live with her. What he failed to understand was that, after years of searching by actual Magical Law-Enforcement people, no trace of my mother had ever been found. I'd pretty much given up any hope of ever properly meeting her, so going to live with her was obviously out of the question.

"If you say so," he conceded with a sigh. "How was your summer? Thoroughly un-magical, I presume."

"It was all right," I said. He was right, of course. But how magical could he expect my life to be when I'd spent the last two months completely isolated from the Wizarding world? Oh...I guess that was his point.

Okay, if I'm giving the impression that I spent my entire summer imprisoned in my room, then I'm being a tad misleading. I mean, just last week I'd gone on my obligatory scavenger hunt through Diagon Alley for school supplies with the two guys who were my best friends in the entire Wizarding world...both of whom seemed to be late.

"I see," Adam said, apparently relishing my discomfort. He did that a lot, relishing in other people's discomfort. "I don't suppose you've given any more thought to my offer."

"I'm not really a 'club' kind of person," I reminded him.

"The Slug Club isn't the Gobstones Club," he said patronizingly. "The connections you make in school go a long way towards getting what you want in life. Seb, it's fifth year now! You've got to start making some real friends, friends who'll be there for you once you get out into the world."

"Friends like you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. There was a pause.

"Possibly," he said with an almost vampiric smile. The very model of a Slytherin indeed, right down to the fine clothes and the stylish short haircut. But then, didn't my own somewhat bookish appearance suggest a Ravenclaw? Perhaps we all end up embracing the stereotypes that others put on us. Or perhaps it's just because I wear glasses and a lot of blue.

"I still don't understand why you're so eager to get me in your club," I said. "I'm a Ravenclaw. Wouldn't you prefer to 'make connections' with people in your own House?"

"Oh come on Seb, you can drop the modesty. You know as well as I do that you're one of the most talented wizards in our year."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," I told him, rolling my eyes as dramatically as I could. And it was simple flattery. I was talented, there was no denying that, but I was still far cry from the most talented wizard in our entire year.

"Fine then," he said smirking. "Tell me who my time would be better spent on."

"Gordon Hall for one," I said, knowing that suggesting Adam's mortal enemy would annoy him to no end. "He's just as talented as I am, if not better. And besides, wouldn't you rather bag the rebel Slytherin than the run-of-the-mill Ravenclaw?" In case this statement is confusing, allow me to clarify: Gordon Hall, the wizard I counted as my closest friend, was one of the only Muggle-Born Slytherins in Wizarding history, a fact that was not well known outside of the Slytherin common room. I checked my watch, now slightly anxious. My friend the rebel Slytherin was going to be quite unfashionably late if he didn't arrive soon.

"Gordon Hall...is not my type," Adam said, chewing on each word before he let it out.

"Ah, and there's that prejudice you keep insisting you don't have," I said. Now it was my turn to smirk.

"I'm not prejudiced!" he protested, declaring himself innocent for the umpteenth time. "I just don't feel that Hall is really Slug Club material. And speaking of which," he said, checking his own watch, "where is he?"

As if to answer him, the masses of people began to part like the Red Sea all along the platform. I strained to see what was coming, mainly because it seemed to be coming in my direction...although I had a fairly good idea what it was going to be. A couple of girls shrieked as they were nearly run over, and as the swiftly-moving figure approached, I took an involuntary step back. For a moment, I was unsure that he'd be able to stop in time, and indeed his bag nearly caught Adam's head as the skateboard skidded to a stop...but then, I'm fairly certain that was intentional. After two years of stalling, Gordon Hall had finally skateboarded onto Platform 9 ¾.

"Took you long enough," was the only comment I cared to make. The applause that began to ring out on the platform was probably sufficient approval. "You might actually have friends after this."

"Shut up," he said offhandedly, jumping down off the skateboard and picking it up under his left arm. His right arm held a bag, which always seemed too small to carry his required amount of books and clothes, although perhaps some were carried in his backpack, which seemed too overstuffed to be comfortable. He brushed his long and tangled hair out of his eyes with a certain degree of difficulty (his only available hand had a skateboard under the arm attached to it), and seemed to notice Adam's presence for the first time. "Oh. Hello Thorne," he said curtly.

"Good morning Hall," Adam replied, equally curt. The two stared one another down for a moment, as was usual for them. "Will we be seeing you on the Quidditch pitch this year?"

"You know it," he replied. "Slytherin needs someone who can actually play." The two stared one another down for another moment. Then, as gracefully as he could, Adam decided to make his exit.

"Well, I'll see you both on the train then," he said smiling, and departed with his undoubtedly overpriced black leather bag in hand.

"So...how've you been?" I asked Gordon.

"Same as always," he said. Then, his eyes lit up. "I've got to show you something."

"What is it?"

"Not here," he said, eyes darting about. "On the train. I don't want the others to see."

"The others?" I asked sceptically.

"You'll see," he said with an annoying smirk. He started to look around, eyes scanning the crowd, although there were so many people, the chances of him actually seeing anything were pretty low. "Hey, where's Phil? He's gonna be late again." Phillip Keates, who was quite Indian despite his name, was my other closest friend...and indeed, he was nowhere to be seen.

"He'll show up," I said with certainty, although in reality I was slightly worried. But then, when wasn't I? "So...shall we?"

"Yeah, let's go," he said. Time was running short, and everyone was beginning to rush towards the train. The result was a mob scene, just as there was every year. The parents milling about the train certainly weren't any help either, but we eventually managed to get onboard, although Gordon's backpack sent several hapless first-years ducking for cover.

We left the mob scene of the platform behind, only to enter the sardine can of the cars.
"MOVE!" cried a shrill voice as a small figure shoved past me. I rolled my eyes as I saw her. Jasmine. Despite my fellow fifth-year's slight stature, or perhaps because of it, she was a formidable Seeker...and formidably annoying when you were standing in her way.

Gordon grabbed my arm and started dragging me through the car, my protests swallowed by the noise of the people around us. As we attempted to shove our way through the car, Gordon somehow lost his grip on me, leaving me to follow behind him as quickly as I could. As I made my way further back, I became momentarily distracted by my own stream of consciousness (this was not unusual for me), and due to my lack of attention, collided with newly-appointed Ravenclaw prefect Amanda Watson. How did I know she was a newly-appointed prefect? Partially because anyone who knew her had been certain that she would be made a prefect in fifth-year, and partially because of the shiny silver and blue badge pinned to her shirt.

"You just couldn't wait to put that on, could you?" I said mockingly once we had both apologised for the collision. "We're not even at school yet." I smiled so she would know that my criticisms were in jest.

"Hello to you too," she said, rolling her eyes, but smiling all the same. "Hey, are you the other new Ravenclaw prefect?"

"Nah, I wish," I said. And I had been a little disappointed, but being a prefect was probably more trouble than it was worth. Way too many responsibilities. Such things were better left to workaholics like Amanda.

"That's too bad," she said, and she did look a little disappointed. "I thought you'd have been the perfect choice."

"They were probably scared," I joked. "If we were prefects, we'd be running the school by the end of the week!" I was rewarded with a chuckle, but it occurred to me that the rush for compartments was not yet over, and we were blocking the corridor. And right as this thought occurred to me, Gordon reappeared from behind me, staring disapprovingly at Amanda's badge.

"Nice," he commented sarcastically. Amanda stared back with a mildly offended look...until Gordon realized where he'd been looking. "The badge," he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Nice. Way to flaunt your superiority complex."

"I don't have a superiority complex," she said, eyes narrowing.

"Please," he said condescendingly. "Being a prefect means nothing until we get to school. The only reason for you to be wearing that thing is that everyone will see it. It's just something else for you to show off."

"I am not showing off," she said sharply. "I'm..." She hesitated, momentarily uncertain, before her eyes brightened again. "Oh, I get it! You weren't chosen to be a prefect, were you?"

"What's that got to do with anything? Don't change the subject!" Gordon protested. Both parties seemed to have forgotten that I was there...and that we were still partially blocking the corridor. Thankfully, we were all spared by the timely arrival of Kenneth Davies, mortal enemy to both Gordon and Amanda. The reason? Kenneth Davies was the captain and shining star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team (with the eternally windswept hair to prove it). Amanda captained our own team, and Gordon played for Slytherin. Need I say any more?

"Hey, we're supposed to be in the front car with the other prefects," he told her. "The Head Boy and Girl want to talk to us."

"You're the new Gryffindor prefect?" Gordon asked disbelievingly.

"Don't act so surprised Hall," he replied, smirking. "Come on," he said to Amanda, "you don't want to be late." With that, he pushed past us and walked away.

"What idiot made him prefect?" Gordon and Amanda muttered in almost perfect unison. Although, to be honest, Kenneth really was the perfect choice, mainly because of the respect he commanded.

"Well, I'd better get going," Amanda told me. "I'll see you later." Her only goodbye to Gordon was a sideways glare as she turned.

"Yeah, see you," I called after her. As Gordon and I walked away to find an empty compartment, I noticed that his ever-annoying smirk had replaced his ever-annoying scowl. "You enjoy that, don't you?"

"Enjoy what? I'm right, aren't I?

"Yes she's showing off," I agreed, "and yes you're jealous."

"I am not!" he insisted. "Only prats become prefects."

"Keep telling yourself that," I taunted. The scowl was back.

It quickly became apparent to us that there were no empty compartments left. Just as we'd given up hope on the car we were in, we came across the next best thing to an empty compartment: a compartment with two empty seats. We made it inside just as the train jerked forward and slowly began to move out of the station.

"Mind if we sit here?" I asked the compartment's occupants, although the answer was something of a given, considering that one of the occupants was my old friend Olivia Chamberlain, a soft-spoken blond Hufflepuff. Sitting across from her was a girl who looked our age. She had long brown hair that was brushed off her face, and her skin was paler than Adam Thorne's. When she looked up at us, she regarded us with piercing blue eyes.

"If we do mind, would you leave?" she said with a very Gordon-like smirk. That one sentence was enough for me to predict that, no matter how interested she was in a given subject, she would always sound vaguely bored. The really odd thing was that, despite the fact that I'd been at Hogwarts for four years now, I had never seen this girl before in my life.

"Sit down guys," Olivia said with a smile. We stowed away our bags (and Gordon's skateboard) and obliged her. "How's it going? How've you been?"

"Pretty good," Gordon said, putting his feet up...on my knees. I shot him a look, and he reluctantly put his feet on the floor.

"How...detailed," Olivia commented wryly. "Oh, this is Carmilla," she said, indicating the girl across from her. "She's transferring to Hogwarts from Durmstrang." Well, that would explain why I'd never seen her before.

"Nice to meet you Carmilla," I said to the new girl. "I'm Sebastian."

"Gordon," said my friend, presumably as an introduction. Our car was moving out of the station, and Olivia stood up and waved out the window at her parents. Gordon and I stayed seated, as our Muggle parents couldn't actually get onto the platform, and I noticed that Carmilla stayed seated as well. Was she a Muggle-born? An orphan perhaps?

"So how was your summer?" Olivia asked once she'd sat back down.

"Thoroughly un-magical," I told her. "But despite the beliefs of Adam Thorne, that does not equal boring. Er...let's see...me and my dad went to France for a couple weeks."

"Sounds fun," Olivia commented.

"Not really," I corrected her, smiling slightly. "I mean, I liked all the looking around and stuff, but Dad wanted to take a million pictures of bloody everything, so..."

"I know how that is," Olivia laughed.

"Oh, and what am I? Chopped liver?" Gordon muttered. Olivia looked at him quizzically.

"Gordon and I went to a Fightstar concert in August," I said, kicking Gordon's shin.

"Please," Gordon drawled. "Gordon and I went to an epic Fightstar concert."

"Hey! I know you!" Carmilla suddenly said, pointing at Gordon. "You're that guy who skateboarded onto the platform!" Gordon smiled broadly, relishing the recognition.

"Oh, you finally did that?" Olivia asked him excitedly. Gordon's expression became somewhat crestfallen.

"You...you didn't see that?"

"No, actually," she said, looking disappointed. "Darn..."

"Amanda didn't say anything about it either," I pointed out. Now Gordon looked completely crestfallen. "Wow...so instead of option one, which was being revered as a legend, or option two, which was falling on your ass and being a laughingstock, we have determined that a wizard who skateboards onto Platform 9 ¾ shall get...nothing." Gordon groaned dramatically.

"There is something wrong with a world in which I can skateboard through a train station in which witches and wizards are waiting for a steam engine to take them to a school for magic that is actually a giant castle full of ghosts, and no one cares." He paused, adopting a thoughtful pose. "I blame the media. Too much desensitization these days." Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "Oh! God, I just remembered!" He immediately jumped up, and ran to his bag. When he returned, he was holding a bright pink purse. In fact, rather than pink, I believe it was more of a fuchsia...but I digress. I regarded the item sceptically. Catching my look, Gordon rolled his eyes.

"It's my sister's. She put an Undetectable Extension Charm on it. I'd never get anywhere near the train with this thing." He returned to his seat, opened the bag, and stuck his arm into it until it disappeared up to his elbow. The oddness of watching this is hard to explain. With his other hand, he pulled the bag slowly in the other direction, and a long shaft of polished wood began to emerge. Eventually, he produced a clearly brand-new broomstick. My jaw dropped all the way to the floor.

"Is that...?"

"It is indeed," he said, almost giggling with glee. "The Firebolt Seven. Fastest and most manoeuvrable broom in the world."

"And probably the most expensive," Olivia pointed out. "How did you ever afford this?"

"Before I turned eleven, my parents set up a trust fund for my university education," Gordon told us. "Obviously I'm not going to need it anymore, so my parents decided that it may as well go towards a good cause...in this case, the Slytherin Quidditch team. We managed to change the money to Galleons, but I don't recommend it; it took bloody forever, and I don't think the goblins like dealing with Muggle money very much."

"Wow...and I hear that Thorne's got his hands on a Nimbus Twenty-twelve too," Olivia said, admiring the gorgeous broom. "Slytherin's got a good shot at the Quidditch Cup this year." It was at this point that I remembered that I was a Ravenclaw, and therefore should not be too happy about this news. And speaking of Ravenclaws...

"Have you seen Phil anywhere?" I asked Olivia. "I didn't see him on the platform."

"He's probably in the front car with the other prefects," Carmilla said. I had almost forgotten she was there. All three of us turned to her with quizzical expressions.

"Phil's a prefect?" Gordon said, confused. "He never mentioned that."

"Wait," I said, "how do you know that? How did you even know who we were talking about?"

"I met him earlier," she said. "He offered to show me around the school if I wanted." Coming from Phil, this could either have been an attempt at wooing this girl or a perfectly honest effort to fulfil his responsibilities. You never really knew with him. I started cleaning my glasses absent-mindedly, but only moments later I realized the implications of what she had said. By the looks on Gordon and Olivia's faces, they'd just realized it too.

"But...but that means..." I began, cold terror flooding my body. "That means that Phillip Keates...and Amanda Watson...are both Ravenclaw prefects!"

"Together!" Gordon chimed in with fear in his eyes.

"God help us all," Olivia intoned. While the enmity that existed between Gordon and Amanda, for example, was largely due to a Quidditch rivalry, the deep and powerful hatred that Phillip and Amanda had for each other was beyond human comprehension. As to what half-witted teacher had decided to appoint them both Ravenclaw prefects...requiring them not only to be in the same room as one another for more than five minutes, but to actually work together...I could only speculate. Strangely enough, Carmilla did not show any confusion as a result of our sudden revelation. I wasn't even sure that she was paying attention.

"This is going to be an interesting year," I said, more to myself than to anyone else. Suddenly, the door to our compartment slid open, and a pixie-like blond girl poked her head in. Polina Myrox, yet another Ravenclaw. Behind her in the corridor, her long-time Gryffindor boyfriend (they had been an item long before Gryffindor boyfriends became fashionable again) Brock Smith was pushing the food trolley. He waved to us with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Hey guys!" Polina said beaming. "The trolley lady sprained her ankle in the second car, so we're taking the food around for her. Chocolate frogs anyone?"

Yes, this was going to be an interesting year indeed.