Something Like the Truth

Book One: How to Disappear Completely

Chapter Two: Trains, Planes, and Automobiles

Before I realized it, I was being accepted into their circle of trust, meaning introductions all around. It turned out the Weasley's had an impressively large family, all with that illuminate red hair. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had a total of seven children; one daughter, being the youngest, and the rest sons. The seemingly quiet and polite daughter was named Ginny. I assumed it was her first time traveling by floo powder as well for her face was smudged here and there with remnants of soot from a chimney and her front braids were tangled and hugging her glistening face. Despite her rather rough appearance, she was quite adorable. Their youngest son, Ron, stood with an inane expression, slouching between his two friends. His thin lips stretched across the majority of his chin in a small smile. Next was a pair of twins who could only be expressed as children on a sugar rush. Fred and George were the names they introduced to me but failed to mention which one was which. Percy, another son, introduced himself as well in a dignified manner, being sure to drop a couple of hints that he was to be a prefect this year. Later, Fred and George explained to me that they tried to swipe the badge from him but failed considering he never took it off. I couldn't help but to laugh along with their family, seeing as they were all so friendly and eager to meet someone new. There was talk of two other sons but they had already graduated and moved away much towards their mother's demise.

Next were Hermione and Harry. They were both friendly and greeted me with the warmest smiles that I have ever seen. However, neither seemed really there. I assumed that Hermione was still a bit bitter from the insults thrown around earlier, yet Harry was a mystery. The corner of his mouth turned up towards a grin, contradicting his cloudy green eyes. He was contemplating something, but what, I am not sure.

They all looked in my direction and I began to realize that it was soon to be my turn to talk about myself. I inhaled deeply and braced myself for their oncoming questions. I quickly introduced myself as being Abigail Williams or Abby for short.

"Where are your parents dear?" Mrs. Weasley started the round. Concern shone in her rich chocolate eyes producing a motherly disposition. She smiled sincerely towards me hopping to encourage a quicker answer.

"They are still in America. They were unable to leave their jobs."

"Why did you come here?" Hermione suddenly asked. "Not to be rude or anything, but it is extremely unlikely for someone to be accepted into Hogwarts their second year. Usually everyone gets their letters by the age of eleven."

"Well, I always had a fascination with British accents," I joked before revealing my true reason after a quick sigh. This was going to be harder than I thought. "It's a long story. I accidentally blew a hole in the roof of my potions' class. Apparently I broke a school policy or something," I stated with a role of my cobalt eyes. "There was no harm done," I explained quickly once noting their worried looks. "My potions teacher actually laughed it off, being an accident, yet it was my parent's idea that a change would be good for me." They nodded in agreement yet Percy eyed my suspiciously comparing me to Fred and George.

Fred and George chuckled after a bit mumbling something about how they always wanted to try that but the thought of their potions teacher, someone by the name of Snape, convinced them out of it. Their mother than slapped them upon their shoulder and scolded them from thinking of such an atrocity. Ron shuddered at the thought of his gruesome professor as we all chuckled before turning back to the matter at hand.

"Are your parents magical as well?" Percy asked next with his chin held up high, barley looking down upon me.

I suppressed a giggle at the thought of comparing it towards a cheesy pick up line in a bar. "No. I suppose you would call them muggles."

Hermione seemed to relax after the comment, content in knowing she was not alone. A quick dip of their head signaled their understanding before the questionnaire continued.

"Did you blow up any of your other classrooms or was it just potions?" One of the twins asked with a corky smile before his mother interrupted with another brutal hit towards the shoulder and mumbles of something that sounded like manners.

I simply laughed it off before answering, "No, I like to keep it to a minimum of one class per year."

We began talking for quite some time before I excused myself to continue my shopping. We agreed to meet at the train station seeing as I had no clue as how to arrive at Hogwarts. I was becoming partially convinced that you had to complete a jig while standing upside down on a table as the twins explained.

A soft chuckle pressed against the barrier of my lips as the thoughts of the one called Percy completing an Irish jig filled all potential thoughts. I wondered aimlessly down the cobbled street of Diagon Alley after purchasing my desirable text books from Flourish and Blotts. It seemed that the ever so generous Gilderoy Lockhart denounced our little encounter with the Malfoy's as nothing more than a settled dispute over his award wining novels which coincidentally happens to be on their forth week on top the best seller's list. It astounds me of how the arrogance of some people seems to elude others.

Something skimming past my left shoulder jerked me back into reality where I was currently walking amongst a rather congested street. It turned out to be nothing more than a fly yet it led me to Eeylops Owl Emporium. Feeling that some nice owl treats for Indi were in order for that bribery was always the best policy for sending letters. And I had a feeling that my quizzical parents were expecting a letter every weekend judging by the breath taking hugs each one gave me before my flight.

My fingers pressed against the cool glass of the heavy steel framed door revealing a world of paradise in a convenient owl size. I wondered aimlessly down the aisles, hoping to kill what little time I had left in the busy streets of London.

Harry and Ron ran vigorously towards the pillar that separated platforms nine and ten after watching Ron's family pass with ease, all except for Ginny of course. For years she has watched her brothers run through the barrier to be swept towards Hogwarts and it was finally her turn. However, that did little to ease the creeping insanity in her mind as she thought about her actions. She was running into a wall after all. The little one was a bit hesitant at first but with a solid run under the soles of her shoes, she flew with ease through the barrier. Her parents soon followed, feeling best for her not to wonder too far from their supervision.

Harry and Ron waited patiently for their turn but with the utmost disappointment were unable to pass. On top of their small act of failure, their belonging were now scattered across the station and they were earning some rather rude looks from a couple of passer byres, muggles naturally. Even the attendant could not deny this level of commotion and flocked over to see the two trouble makers. He continued to eye them suspiciously even after Harry managed to explain the horrible inconvenience of his trolley slipping from his grasp. The plumped attendant left the two to gather their belongings, mumbling something about rotten children.

"Rotten luck mate. We should have waited for Abigail." Ron spoke softly, the realization of the manner sinking in slowly.

"Abigail had nothing to do with this," Harry speculated as he traced the brick pattern down the now solid pillar.

"Harry," Ron began and Harry knew that nothing good would come from it. Whenever Ron began a statement with his name it was usually followed by foul news. "If we can't get through, then maybe mom and dad can't get back." The worried was begging to etch itself upon the shallow line of the twelve year old boy's face as his eyes grew twice in size.

"Perhaps we should wait by the car," Harry proposed. He felt it necessary to remove Ron from a heavily crowded area before he continued on with his nervous breakdown. Much to Harry's surprise, Ron's expression changed as quickly as the barrier.

"The car," Ron announced in astonishment.

"Hope I didn't miss anything," they heard a familiar voice from behind. "Is there a reason why the two of you are sitting down this close to the departure of the train?"

The two turned to face Abigail with a playful smile spread across her thin lips. She reminded Harry of a cat waiting for a ball of yarn.

"The barrier is closed and I think we already missed the train," Harry explained as his eyes drifted over the pillar once more.

"Wait," she spoke in an incredulously tone. "You mean to tell me that I was going to have to pass through a solid object to arrive to Hogwarts? Is all of London mad or is it just the one possessing supernatural powers?"

Harry might have chuckled if he was in any other situation, but he couldn't find the strength at the moment. He turned his attention back to Ron realizing that he had been tugging on his loose sweater sleeve for a while now. "What is it?" he asked annoyed with his friend's primitive social skills.

"The car," Ron announced once more to regain his friend's train of thought.

If you asked me that very morning what was the worst possible scenario I could have been in, I would have completely over looked this one. I was currently strapped in the back seat of an old Ford Anglia whose sky blue paint was currently chipping off in certain parts.

"Ron, are you sure you know how to drive a car?" I asked with my fingers sinking into the uncomfortable plastic seating.

"It's not the driving part that I am worried about, it's the flying," Harry added once strapped in comfortably in the front seat. My fingers sank even further down into the plastic. My stomach was up to my throat once the realization of the matter had dawned on me. No one mentioned flying.

"Nothing to worry about," Ron said trying to convince even himself. "I've watched Fred and George fly this thing countless of times."

Gaining the position of the thinker in the group, I pulled out a scratch of parchment and began to scribble away madly upon it. I informed the headmaster of our little predicament and implored him to be reasonable upon the matter.

"Harry, may I please trouble you for your owl?" I asked innocently.

"Sure," he responded but with an incredulous look, "but I don't understand why you need to send a letter at the moment."

"Girls mate," Ron piped in. "They're always talking."

"For your information," I tried in my best interest to not snap at Ron, "I'm sending a letter to the head master to explain our situation. Of course if you want a detention, then by all means stop me." My tone was directed towards Ron.

"Great another Hermione," I heard him mumble as he rolled his eyes.

I let loose the snowy white owl whose name escaped me at the moment. Never the less, that did not seem to damper her new found freedom. I gingerly attached the scroll of parchment upon her leg before letting it fly off somewhere towards the West. Amazing creatures. I sat there admiring her from a distance before the sudden awakening jerk of the car brought me back to our little adventure.

Ron started the car with a jump of his own, surprised that the steel beast gave way under his control. He carefully brought the car towards the air, favoring the break a little more than appreciated.

Pretty soon I was able to look out from the car down upon the busy streets of London. I glanced down at a couple of muggles who stared back. Some spilled their continents from their shopping spree upon the sidewalk in astonishment. Apparently Harry saw this as well but he did not seem to think their bewildered looks as humorous as I did.

"Ron," Harry spoke up over the silent squeals Ron made whenever the car jerked. He obviously never tried this at home before. "I should tell you. Most muggles aren't accustom to seeing flying cars."

Ron nodded in agreement before staring puzzled at the dashboard. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled a rather shinny lever thus turning the car invisible. Right, because that would have been my first guess as to what a lever in a flying Ford Anglia would do.

The rolling hills of London, that I never knew existed, were soon unraveling before us as we cruised down the international highway in the sky. Ron was currently flapping his hands wildly in the wind as he tried to scare a flock of pigeons into possessing some common sense. He feared that their annoying presence would fly themselves straight into the hood of the car if they were not careful.

Harry, on the other hand, was more concerned for our lives where he jumped at the wheel the instant he felt the car veering askew. Ron had previously warned us that the bugger occasionally steered towards the left if unintended.

I stretched in small movements, cautious of the bird cage next to me. It felt as if hours have passed by since our feet were secure on solid ground. With each passing moment I began to loss my faith in Ron's flying skills. This little act of self righteousness pushed my judgment over the edge. I felt my body become rigid and I felt no need in glancing down at my hands. I'm sure my knuckles were painted white from anxiety as well as they were clutching towards the plastic fabric of the seats, leaving small indentions that were sure to last long after they freed themselves from this mess.

"Ron," Harry began once comfortable in the passenger seat, "shouldn't we try to find the train?"

"Right," Ron agreed absent mindedly. The car sputtered as an obvious refusal for dropping back towards the troposphere. We flew over a flat, grassy hill that was brandished by a bed of wild purple flowers. A track that stretched miles above the ground spread out in a serpentine pattern as it crossed itself around and through various mountains. The track's white paint that was chipped across the top from years of wear and tear seemed to contrast greatly towards the lush rolling hills that surrounded it. Ron cautiously steered the car upon the track, hovering a few inches above it.

Harry expressed an immediate need to find this train and Ron agreed absent mindedly again. However, this time a faint state of worry shown in his pale eyes as he scanned the horizon. A growing whistle was hard to deny as it made its presence know across the country side.

"Did you hear that?" Harry's eyes glanced back towards Ron, wondering if he was loosing any sanity he had left. It was always hard to tell with wizards.

An elated smile was present on Ron's face the moment the siren went off. "We must be getting close." Their eyes continued to scan the horizon but with no luck found their desire.

"It sounds as if it's coming from –" I heard my voice trail off as I glanced behind me to be greeted by an old fashion, black train that was dangerously close on our tail. "Behind us," I finished barely audible above a whisper as I stared at the great steel monster threatening to devour us all. It was so close in fact that I was able to make out the identification numbers to be 5972. If there was any doubt towards the purpose of this train, the pale red sign reading Hogwarts Express was sure to relinquish any confusion.

The whistle blew another angry round as steam arouse from its depth. Screams were clearly distinguished from the front of the car as well as the back as Ron made a fading attempt to steer clear of its presence. A hard jerk towards the left did the trick. However, it also caused the car to spin out of control. Ron jerked the wheel every which way, trying desperately hard to stay clear of the angry steel beast beside us.

Between spinning out of control and screaming for his life, Harry must have accidentally opened the passenger side door. Hands gripping tightly across the small handle, he kicked wildly in hopes of finding some sort of platform to lift himself from.

"Hold on," Ron screamed above the commotion of the train. Harry gave an expression that clearly stated that he had no interest in letting go as he looked behind him towards the rhythmic beating of the train wheels. The car rose higher in the air, something Ron thought might help. It only made Harry's green eyes wider in fear as he now saw the entire train instead of a small, fleeting part of it.

Out of instinct and pure adrenaline, I leaped across towards the passenger seat and beckoned Harry to grab my hand as I tore away at the seat with my other one. His arm fought against the harsh blows of the wind but it soon found mine. Much to our demise, it slipped the first time causing a fleeting gasp to escape my already skewed lips and Ron to jerk the car harshly away. Harry swayed in the wind, dangling only a couple of feet above his death. His hand sound found mine, a sign stating he had no interest in giving up yet, and this time I refused to let go. I pulled him in with all of the upper body strength I fooled myself into thinking I possessed. Harry swung one of his legs into the car as he positioned himself to leap back into the comfortable passenger seat he was only in moments ago. With luck he swung himself back in and closed the door abruptly behind him. Dazed, I found my way back towards the seat in the back.

"I think we found the train." Harry's voice was washed out from his previous panic attack. Ron could only nod in agreement as he panted with his hands securely on the wheel of the car.

That little adventure was soon over and it cleared the way towards a light hearted conversation. I presume they were still curious about the new girl because they continued to bombard me with questions, distantly allowing me a certain reference of time to answer before moving towards the next one. I guess the fact that I live over seas didn't help my cause either.

"What house do you think you'll be sorted into?" Harry asked in pure curiosity as his eyes remained on the landscape ahead, something they never strayed from after his near death experience.

I stared at him, baffled as I equated the relevance of my definition. "House?" Perhaps it meant something different in England.

"Yeah, you know house," Ron continued on as he tugged the car towards the left to follow the winding path of the train. It sputtered in protest but bent towards his will after a moment of hesitation. "Hogwarts has four of them. Your sorted into one based on your personality and you stay there for the rest of your years there. They're suppose to be like your family away from home." A shrug of his shoulders signaled he was out of information. It honestly wasn't a lot to start with.

"This is the first time I've heard of them," I replied in thought as I wondered what house I would be in and how they will even determine. The pressing thought of an Irish jig lingered on but somehow managed to brush it aside.

"Don't worry," Harry stated softly in that reassuring tone that hinted towards his knowledge of my hidden apprehensive disposition. "You'll probably be sorted in to Gryffindor with us."

"Nah," Ron argued from behind the steering wheel. His one word was enough to captivate the attention of Harry and myself. Anxiety presented itself again through my clenched hands and rigid shoulders at the thought of him not accepting me tore away at the corners of my mind until it reached the center. "She's more of a Ravenclaw."

My shoulders released in a sense of ease from his light tone yet my hands were rendered incapable of releasing the now dented in seat. I was sure that they wouldn't let up until we were safely on the ground once more. I felt my brow furor as my mind traced along the edge of the eccentric names. "Is that a good thing?" I was almost hesitant to ask but my curiosity took hold, something that happened quite often.

"Fine," his tone was bright with cheer before turning sour, "as long as you're not in Slytherin." Ron's last word was laced in a bitter abhorrence that seemed far greater than any he could possess. Harry's chuckle encouraged me to release a nervous laugh of my own. I soon found myself hoping that I wouldn't be sorted into it.

The rest of the ride was filled with more moments such as these. It was idle chit chat that had similar topics as favorite food, color, and book. You know, the usual things you asked towards someone who saved your life.