It was not until a few days later, on the Hogwarts Express platform, that Lia saw the boy again. He was standing on the edge of the pavement, reluctantly hugging what she thought were his parents - they all had annoyingly bright blond hair. She had shuddered when she'd looked at his father. He looked like a worse, more badly mannered version of his son.

It was ludicrous the way his nose crinkled and turned up at the sight of the muggles saying goodbye to their magical children. It was as if he could smell some kind of foulness off of them, something only he and his family could detect. Which was strange, as Lia wondered how he could possibly think that the muggles were putrid, when he and his son were as disgusting as they were.

But Lia stopped herself there, she didn't like judgemental people, but even she couldn't help herself from casting her own views about these strangers. She was a bit of a hypocrite, wasn't she? But for some reason though, she didn't think that her opinion about the cold blonde-haired man was wrong – he was definitely the type that sneered instead of smiled, hurt instead of helped, shattered instead of saved. She had seen people like him in the muggle world: the racist ones, who thought that their heritage made them somehow better than others, all the while ignoring their own lewdness and impurity.

She grabbed her luggage, being very careful with the cage that contained her new European-Eagle Owl. She had named him 'Tyto', whilst Harry's bird was now deemed 'Hedwig', which sounded vaguely like 'Hagrid' to Lia.

Soon, she was sitting on the plush seat in her compartment on the Hogwarts Express, with the red-haired boy whose mother had helped in getting her and Harry through the brick wall to nine and three-quarters. In one hand, she turned a wand over and over again, slipping it nimbly through her fingers.

Lia thought back to the budding feeling of satisfaction that she'd gained when the wand had chosen her, and the way she had felt complete, holding it firmly in her grasp. Invincible. As if she could do anything she wanted. No matter how corny that may sound. Having a wand, her own wand, somehow assured the part of her that had worried that this had all been a dream; or that Hagrid had made a mistake, and she wasn't actually a witch after all, and then she would be forced to go back to that tedious life with the Dursleys. She wasn't sure if she could survive it without Harry by her side.

Her wand was made of yew and threstral hair, ten and a half inches, and quite flexible, she was told.

She recollected the expression of amazement that Mr. Ollivander had worn when Harry had picked out his phoenix feather wand. That look had only increased when he realised that the wand she was destined for was made of yew and thestral hair. She'd done some research, and yew was a powerful wood, one that could perform great magic, magic that could waver the lines between life and death. Coupled with threstral hair, which was virtually unheard of as a wand core, the stick was formidable indeed. She couldn't help feeling slightly proud, although she knew that it would be a long time, and after much hard work, before she could actually do anything remotely impressive with it.

"Use that wand wisely, my girl," Ollivander had said, "It's power is immense. Two siblings with such unique wand cores … my, my … thestral hair … only two wands like it in existence … and yew too … the last yew wand I'd sold … such power … curious… how, curious."

Confused and somewhat frightened, they had left the wand maker to his mumblings.

She stored the wand in her pocket and pulled out her book of spells. She had barely been able to put it down since she had first bought it. Lia loved magic.

It wasn't as if the spells just came naturally to her. She'd had to work hard, very hard, at first, just to get her pencil to move over a touch. When she'd finally been able to do it, she had spent the holidays staying up late, hiding under her duvet and practising the spells again and again – sparking little lights, making objects fly around her room, transforming rocks into flowers with a flick and a whisper.

Before too long, the incantations would just pour out and she found that she could pronounce it quite accurately, with the correct hand motion, even without requiring much concentration. It was absolutely marvellous, especially since in the muggle school, she had been a less than stellar student. But then again, she didn't have much experience with the wizarding world. Perhaps this degree of skill was normal for first-years? All she knew was doing considerably better than Harry, who was yet to open his books.

To be honest, if she really admitted it to herself, a lot of her motivation that summer had been envisioning meeting the pale blonde boy again, and testing out of the jinxes on him. She couldn't wait to see his face turn red with rage again. She could tell that they were going to get on each others' nerves, and she had to be prepared to meet him in battle.

She flicked to a page about changing skin colour.

Harry watched her, wearing a look of wariness and suspicion. "You're always reading now, Lia."

Lia grinned and semi-stuck out her tongue. "You should look at it too. It's actually really interesting."

Ron looked over at her book as well. She was quite pleased to have met him. Ron was nice enough, a funny fellow, and it was great having someone who could explain the wizarding world to her.

"Are you reading about magic?" he asked. Before she could answer he said, "I've practising a spell myself too, want to see?"

Lia nodded.

It was at the exact moment that Ron had pulled out his wand, that a girl with unkempt brown hair strolled into the compartment.

"Have you seen a toa…", she trailed off. "Oooh! Are you practising magic? Well, lets see then!"

Ron looked uncomfortable by the sudden attention of the stranger at the door and cleared his throat. "Well … alright, I guess."

He said in loud voice, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Lia stared at him blankly. So did Harry and the girl. Nothing seemed to be happening.

She felt sorry for Ron. That spell had definitely not been in her own spell books. It sounded like a load of rubbish to be honest, and it was obvious that someone had been trying to deceive him. A spell like that would never have worked, she could tell that there was no magic hanging onto it.

"That's not a very good spell, is it?" the girl said breaking the silence. "Are you sure its real? Well … if you wanted to do some actual magic, the textbooks are the place to go. I've memorised all of them." She tilted her head up proudly. "I'm Hermione Granger, and you are?"

"Ron Weasely," muttered Ron, whose cheeks had turned a bit red from insult and embarrassment.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Daliah Potter," said Lia, "But call me Lia."

"Wow," Hermione's eyes grew wider. "Harry Potter! I've heard about you in the history books." She turned to look at Lia "But nothing about you Lia." She appeared puzzled, as if wondering how a book could actually be inaccurate. "All the authors wrote that Harry was an only child".

Lia smiled at her - after Diagon Alley she had grown a bit used to this.

"And yet, here I am".

She thought that Hermione seemed to be a knowledgeable girl, so they had a quick discussion about the books that they were studying this year. Lia didn't know anything about magical history (she was never very interested in the practical side of things and it bored her), but she loved sharing the enchantments they knew.

She stopped though, at the increasingly uninterested look on Harry and Ron's faces. Ron looked close to falling asleep.

Hermione glanced at the time. "You three had better change, we'll be here soon. I'm going to go look for Neville's toad."

She stopped at the door. "Nice to meet you Lia," she said with a small smile.

Lia grinned back. "Pleasure's all mine." She rested back in her seat, feeling assured and more confident now that she had already made two friends.

It wasn't long before the doors to their compartment glided open again. This time though, it was the pale blond boy she'd met when buying her robes. He barely spared her a glance. His attention was fixated on Harry, the eyes barely moving at all.

"Is it really true?" he said. "I've heard up and down the train that Harry Potter was here. Is it you?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, probably remembering the disrespectful remarks the boy had made in the shop. He gave a brisk nod.

"That's Crabbe and that's Goyle," blondie said with a casual flick of his hand. "And I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy." He rolled out the letters of his name in a long drawl.

Ron and Lia gave a slight snigger. She covered it up much better than Ron though, who had hastily concealed his laugh into a cough that sounded very fake indeed. He was forced to cop the displeasure of having Draco turn to him with a glare.

"Think my name's funny, do you?"

What a touchy boy! Lia thought that he was unable to take a joke at all. She was contemplating whether he or Dudley was worse, when blondie opened his mouth, and more garbage and filth poured out of those rosy lips of his.

"Well I don't need to ask who you are. I've heard all about the Weasley family from my father. Red hair, freckles, and too many children for their meagre earnings." He eyed Ron's second hand robes with disdain.

"Hey!" Lia was beginning to hate the boy. "You can't talk to Ron like that."

"And you are?" When Malfoy's eyes flicked to hers, they widened fractionally. He was probably remembering their encounter in Madam Malkins.

"Lia. Lia Potter."

"Potter?" he looked momentarily confused. "... Didn't know there was another Potter."

"Well." Lia scoffed. "That's not really a shock is it. I don't think you know very much at all."

His face contorted and grew increasingly redder. She thought vaguely, that he looked a bit like an overripe tomato. Malfoy looked like he wanted to retort with something nasty, but he kept it in internally. The action of holding in those insults looked like it was causing him physical pain.

"Potter," he said after a while. "And you." He scowled at Lia, who did not appreciate being called 'you' one bit.

"I think that you'll both find that some families are better than others. You shouldn't make friends with the wrong sort. I can see that you might be a bit … confused." He shot a look at Lia. "But I'm willing to overlook that. You probably didn't have much of an education with those dirty muggles around all the time. But I can help you choose … beneficial … friends."

Lia had never liked the muggle world much – she had no love for her other relatives, her teachers or her old peers – but she still felt angry that Malfoy was talking so harshly about them, as if he was somehow so much more superior. She didn't like the way he had said 'muggles' or his choice of the word 'beneficial' either. He must have had no clue what real friendship was actually about.

All in all, she thought he was perhaps the most superficial and narrow-minded person she had ever met.

"Thank you so much for your kind offer," Lia said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"I think we can tell who the wrong sort are for ourselves," Harry backed her up.

Malfoy, whose face had become less red in the time that had passed, turned pink again.

She felt sort of exhilarated and rebellious standing up to blondie like this. She certainly hadn't been meek at her last school. She knew how to fight and argue for her and Harry's sake, but she had always been held back. The slightest wrongdoing would have meant no food, or another week locked up in her room. But now? Well, her aunt and uncle were miles away.

Lia laughed.

Unluckily, Malfoy, who by now resembled a tomato again, thought that she was laughing at him. People were always misunderstanding Lia.

"I'd be careful if I were you," he threatened. "If you don't learn your manners, you might end up just like your parents. Worse still, keep hanging out with scum like the Weasleys and Hagrid, and you must just catch their disease".

All three of them shot up out their seats. Ron was now also a very deep shade of red.

"Say that again," Ron said in a low voice.

Malfoy sneered. "Going to fight me now?" he taunted.

Lia very much wanted to. She imagined punching him straight in his face, and breaking his haughty little nose. But, she was a lady. And she would act like one.

"Look. Draco, was it?" she said loudly, slowly pulling out the words and eyeing the wand that Malfoy had drawn out.

"I was hoping more for a battle of the wits ... but, well, it would hardly be fair right? You seem to be unarmed. Like, I understand that you might be a bit too pig-headed and dense to comprehend this. But honestly, who are you calling dirty? Look at yourself."

She whipped out her wand sneakily and quietly whispered an incarnation, whilst Malfoy and gang were too busy scanning themselves for signs of dirt. Really, how much stupider could they get?

Lia watched with blossoming delight and smugness as the spell took hold, and Malfoy's skin darkened until it had become a very muddy and very unattractive shade of poo-brown.

She giggled as he screeched like a little girl and ran, bursting out of the compartment, spluttering profanities with his tail trailing behind his legs. Crabbe and Goyle chased after him like the dogs that they were.