It was definitely hard for Melaina when she unwillingly returned to the orphanage; after opposing to her several times, Ms. Hughes finally managed to drag her back. Hellen was a complete ass, and everyone else was simply horrible.

She couldn't wait until the next day—she would finally be going to Hogwarts, though she didn't think it would be much better.

Something seemed off with even the boys she met at Diagon Alley—what were their names? That one guy with the glasses, Black, Lupin, and . . . Malfoy. That was it. They've probably forgotten about me. She sighed. Still, she thought, I guess anywhere's better than here . . .

The brunette walked over to the guitar in one of the corners of her room, where it was resting against the wall. She began to strum it, humming along before starting to quietly sing some music she had written one day. Needless to say, she was a talented lyricist.

All around me are familiar faces,
Worn out places, worn out faces;
Bright and early for their daily races,
Going nowhere, going nowhere;
Their tears are filling up their glasses,
No expression, no expression;
Hide my head, I wanna drown my sorrow,
No tomorrow, no tomorrow.

And I find it kind of funny,
I find it kind of sad,
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had;
I find it hard to tell you,
I find it hard to take,
When people run in circles,
It's a very, very mad world,
Mad world.

James Potter wanted to do this, and he wanted to do this right.

"Sirius? You there? Yeah, mate, it's me, James. Listen, I know this is sudden and all, but I was wondering if you wanted to take a day off and spend it with me." There was a pause. "What? No! How dare you accuse me of such an act!" Another, longer, moment of silence, as he listened to the Black. "Alright, fine, you got me." He sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up into the air. "Yep. Now, move it!" He laid the broken glass fragment down on the small circular table beside him.

Next was Remus.

"Mum! You know that Muggle phone or whatever it is—you know how you bought one the other day? Where'd you put it? Mum? Mum!"

In the Lupin household, one wall-phone rang.

"I've got it, dear," Lyall said, as the tone sounded for the fourth time.

He picked it up. "Hello?"

"REMUS, IS THAT YOU?! I'M USING A PHONE! A MUGGLE PHONE! IT'S SO COOL, AND REALLY AMAZING, AND I'M SO GLAD MUM GOT IT FOR US, AND—"

"That's nice and all, but I'm not Remus—and you certainly do not need to shout." To say the man was amused was an understatement, and saying he had a migraine was one as well.

"AND—wait, what?"

Lyall grinned, though it couldn't be seen over the phone. "Sound passes through just as easily, if not more so, on things like these. It's not exactly necessary to scream, because we can hear each other as though we were having a conversation not two decimeters away."

"Oh," James breathed. "That's AWESOME!"

Remus's father held his head. "Please don't yell anymore . . ."

"Sorry."

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. "I guess you want Remus?"

"Yep. Thanks."

"Alright." He took the device from his ear and dropped his hand. "Hope?" he called. "Could you get our son? He's got someone waiting on the phone!"

A few minutes later, the sandy-blonde appeared in the doorway. "Yeah, Dad? Someone's on the phone?"

His father nodded, and handed it to him before turning to the adjacent room. "I'm gonna lie down for a bit, got a headache," he muttered.

Remus stifled a laugh, then held the phone up. "Hello? Remus Lupin speaking."

"REMUS!" James clamored, loudly.

The boy drew his hand back, wincing. "James? God, don't do that!"

"Sorry." In fact, he did not sound apologetic at all.

It wasn't very surprising to Remus.

"Just . . . what do you want?"

"Oh, right! I wanted to invite you over!"

Remus paused, staring blankly at the wall as though it held the answers to the secrets of the universe. ". . . Have you forgotten," he finally said, his tone one that somebody would use when talking to an imbecile, "that I don't even know where you live?"

At the Potter Manor, James looked like he had only just realized that fact. "Oh, yeah . . . Right. I knew that."

Remus shook his head. "For some reason, I had actually believed you would have at least known that. Guess you can't expect much from bloody idiots."

"Use the Floo Network!" the raven-haired, glasses-wearing tweenager cried.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, like that'd go on well with the Min—" He stopped abruptly, contemplating the idea. "Did you . . . Did you really just say something that actually made sense?"

"Stop overreacting and just DO IT!"

Remus cringed at his friend's loud voice, then sighed. He waved his free hand around in the air flippantly. "Fine, fine."

Minutes later found the young Lupin at James's parents' mansion, where the Potters were host to a celebratory party.

"God, James, did you really set this up yourself? I'm honestly impressed," he complimented.

Sirius smirked. "Yeah, this is pretty good. You've outdone yourself, mate."

Heat instantly rose to his cheeks, and he grinned widely. "Thanks, guys, but you haven't seen anything yet."

"I guess maybe you two aren't complete gits after all," Remus commented idly, receiving two playful glares in return.

"I'm not sure whether to be comforted or offended," Sirius joked.

James rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't it be obvious? That was so very insulting; we're both gits, through and through!"

The day passed by all too soon for the three of them; soon it was five-thirty, and Remus was expected back at his house. Sirius seemed to only barely restrain from thrashing about and shouting profanities when the time came for him to leave. James patted his back sympathetically, lessening his bitter mood, but he was still pretty irked at the thought of going back to his family.

Melaina breathed a sigh of relief as the long day finally ended, and night graced everybody with its presence and the comforting promise of a nice rest.

She brushed her thick, long, dark-chestnut hair before practically collapsing onto her tattered mattress and closing her eyes.

The faster she got to sleep meant that it wouldn't seem as long a wait as eleven hours was to escape the Hell that was the orphanage.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK the Third!" Walburga Black thundered from the bottom of the stairway.

Her son rolled off of his bed with a grunt, and hit the wooden floorboards with an even louder one. "Yes, Mother dearest?" he called back, using the affectionate title he had given her. As he rose from the ground, Sirius glared at the forming bruise on his leg.

"Get out of bed this instant and be ready! Why can't you be more like Regulus? He's already dressed, and he isn't even the one going to Hogwarts!"

"It's always Regulus this, Regulus that with you, isn't it, woman?" the boy grumbled, as he changed into the standard black school robes.

He trudged down to the first floor, suitcase behind him, and sat down heavily into a chair. Without warning, he purloined his younger brother's plate and began to shovel the food into his mouth.

Regulus stared, wide-eyed, at Sirius, before his shocked expression morphed into a scowl. "Mum! Sirius stole my food!"

"You're such a snitch," he groaned.

"A what?"

Sirius smirked, chuckling conceitedly. "It's a Muggle expression."

His younger brother glowered at him.

"Remus, honey, get up," Hope called softly, knocking on the door to her son's room.

The sandy-blonde looked up from the book he had currently taken an interest in. "Mum, I'm awake already. I got up a few minutes ago."

She chuckled quietly to herself. "I guess I really should have seen that coming," she admitted.

Remus stood from the neatly made bed. "I suppose I'd be correct if I said you'd already made breakfast?"

Hope nodded, a bright smile plastered on her hale face. "Shall we?" she asked, offering her arm.

"We shall," he agreed with a laugh, placing his hand in hers.

Together, they made their way down to enjoy a warm breakfast.

James Potter awoke to a house-elf jumping on his back.

"Gah!" he cried, flinging himself off of his hazard of a bed and onto the untidy carpet in the room. "Carlisia, what the bloody hell was that for?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but Master and Mistress Potter told me to wake you up," she hastily explained.

The boy groaned. "That's nice, I feel so loved to know that they can't even take the time to come up here themselves . . ."

Carlisia seemed unreasonably nervous as he was complaining.

"Oh, sorry, you don't have to listen to me ramble on about nothing; you can go if you want. I don't especially care," James said, as he recovered and dragged himself to the midnight-blue dresser against the wall farthest from the door. "Actually, could you please? It'd be . . . really weird to get changed right now . . ."

She nodded, then snapped her fingers, and Apparated.

James soon thundered down the stairs, in simple Muggle clothes as to not arouse suspicion when at the station, and found his parents already seated. "Mum, Dad!" he whined, sounding like a child. "Why didn't you come wake me up?"

They chuckled.

Throwing the thin white sheets off of her, Melaina awoke at the first light of dawn; as it was, five-o'clock sharp. She grabbed her small bag, throwing several outfits in after donning a red T-shirt and some pale, ripped jeans. She then tossed a journal containing her thoughts, drawings, and songs into her pack as well. The satchel she had bought at Diagon Alley was placed carelessly on top of that, the once-dead iPod she'd found on the street inside of it.

All of her textbooks—which she'd read multiple times, as she had nothing else to do, and were now at a size and weight that she could easily carry—were at the very bottom of the pile.

Melaina stuffed some earbuds—ones that she'd been fortunate enough to buy, after saving up the little money she received at the orphanage—into her pocket, and sat down with her guitar in hand.

Playground school bell rings again,
Rain clouds come to play again;
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello, I am your mind,
Giving you someone to talk to;
Hello.

If I smile, and don't believe,
Soon, I know I'll wake from this dream;
Don't try to fix me—I'm not broken;
Hello, I am the lie living for you,
So you can hide;
Don't cry.

Suddenly, I know I'm not sleeping;
Hello, I'm still here;
All that's left of yesterday.

After everybody else awoke, she put her instrument inside its case—they'd been sold together at the shop—and grabbed her skateboard from outside. Muttering a quick Diminuendo, she lazily flicked her wand; her target, being both the guitar and the case, shrunk down, and she fitted them into her knapsack, too.

"I doubt I'm going to miss this place," she said to herself, as she began to head down to the station. "Though I might. I just hope Hogwarts isn't going to be worse."

A girl with chestnut hair and two different colored eyes set her foot down in the middle of the area. She maneuvered herself, then placed one of her feet on the edge of her board. It flipped upwards, and she caught it skillfully in her right hand.

Sliding it under her arm, she shoved a hand in her pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled ticket.

LONDON TO HOGWARTS
for ONE WAY travel
Platform 9¾

Those were the words inscribed on it, and it really confused her. What the bloody hell is Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters? Oh, dear God, I sound like a British person now . . . It's actually really hard to believe I'm an American . . .

She paused for a moment, wandering through the sea of Muggles, searching for a staff member that was familiar with the surroundings.

Melaina finally found a hale, energetic, young woman with honey-blonde hair and natural light-brown highlights. She had gorgeous amber eyes that glimmered brightly as sunlight reflected off of them. "Yes?" she intoned in a cheerful voice, a friendly smile enhancing her features even more.

"Um, I was wondering if you knew anything about a Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters? I have a ticket, but it didn't seem like it existed . . ."

The female frowned slightly, her eyebrow raising. "Hmm . . . I don't recall ever hearing mention of this platform, miss, though there have been an odd number of people asking lately . . . May I see your ticket?"

"Of course," she agreed, holding her palm out.

She studied the pass curiously; then, satisfied with her results, handed it back. "I've never seen one like that before, in all of my experience handling trains," she confessed. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

The brunette nodded, disappointed, and decided to hang around for a while longer. She leaned against one of the brick pillars—which just so happened to be the one in between Platforms Nine and Ten—and proceeded to fall through, landing unceremoniously on the ground—or she would have, had she not have had fast reflexes and recovered, stumbling before planting herself firmly on two feet.

As the girl looked up, she caught a glimpse of the Hogwarts Express in all of its glory.

As her focus became more generalized, she started to take notice of all the emotional families around her; it made her uneasy, as she didn't want to witness the embraces and tears of others. So she did what any unnerved and insecure child would do to escape the scene if stuck in her situation—board the train.

It was considerably more quiet and, overall, peaceful, and she decided to take her journal out to draw. Rummaging through her bag, Melaina soon pulled out a regular-sized notebook with a worn cover and lock. She opened it up, flipping to a clean page, and was just about to start sketching the scenery, when a very loud racket came from the adjacent compartment.

Sighing, the girl managed to place it back inside her bag when the door burst open with a clatter.

None other than James and Sirius themselves came marching through, staring down at her and sneering. "Hey, look! I remember you! You're that weird freak girl we pretended to like, aren't you?"

She stared at them, shock and hurt flashing in her eyes, before she regained her senses and glared at the floor.

James grinned, though he seemed dangerous—like a predator stalking their prey. "Can't even find the decency to look at us when we talk to you?"

Sirius cast a sideward glance at his friend. "Do you have something in mind, mate? Teach her a lesson, maybe?"

The boy nodded emphatically, as though he was being asked if he wanted a pile of sweets and not about the plan he had created at Melaina's expense.

It was brutal.

She whimpered, her arms wrapped around her knees tightly as she forced her head between them, curling up into a ball on the ground.

The two boys clutched their stomachs, doubling over in laughter; they were hysterical. How anyone found somebody else's pain a source of amusement completely mystified Melaina.

A redhead curiously slid the compartment door open, taking in the scene with wide, horror-filled, forest-green eyes. They narrowed when she caught sight of the two raven-haired tweenagers not even attempting to hide how much fun they were having. Her gaze then averted to the brunette that was shuddering, sobbing silently.

How could they do that to her? the girl thought, well beyond furious. Those bloody gits!

"Lily?" A soft knock was heard, and then the door opened once more to reveal Severus Snape.

"Severus!" she exclaimed, tearing her eyes away from the other female. "Sev, help me, please—this girl, she needs treatment, like, right now!"

His own black eyes widened substantially, and he stepped past his best friend to see dark-chestnut hair shadowing a small, frail, thin body.

He whipped out his wand, frantically muttering healing spells—long after she'd fallen comatose—until the damage caused by James and Sirius seemed physically nonexistent.

By that time, the two boys were glaring. "Why the hell are you helping her?" Sirius spat, venom laced in every word.

"Because it's the right thing to do!" the redhead practically snarled, resisting the urge to break his nose. But, oh, was it so tempting . . .

Snape grabbed her arm, knowing all too well what was going on in her mind, and gently held it. "Lily," he murmured, "don't. It's not going to help matters here; believe me, I want to just as much as you do, but I'm not."

Lily struggled against him, but gave up rather quickly, as she realized that he was right.

Kicking the two toe-rags, as she'd dubbed them, out of the compartment, the two waited in silence for the brunette to regain consciousness.

Remus had found a completely empty compartment, and had seized his chance for some tranquility to read his intriguing book. A boy—Peter Pettigrew, as he'd introduced himself as—had shyly but not unkindly asked if he could sit with him. Remus had happily obliged, and had instantly found himself enjoying Peter's company—he was naturally curious, much like himself, but possessed enough self-control to know when to speak, and when to be quiet.

It had definitely been reassuring to the young Werewolf.

However, the moment had been ruined as soon as the door burst open, and Remus now found himself mentally cursing James and Sirius as he listened to their rendition of what had happened not minutes ago.

"So, yeah, and then these two others came in and ruined our fun!" Sirius, ever the kvetch, groused, throwing his hands into the air in what seemed to be insensate frustration.

Remus nearly started to yell a string of profanities, but restrained himself; instead, he chose to glare at them harshly, his dark appearance causing them to involuntarily flinch. "You are both Goddamned bloody idiots!"

"What the hell did we do?" James growled back, his eyes narrowing.

Remus chose not to reply. He stood from his seat and stalked out of the compartment, slamming the door behind him.

"I thought you said he'd understand?" James accused, eyes flashing menacingly at Sirius.

The boy looked frightened. "I thought he would! I didn't even know we did anything wrong!"

The girl and the boy both jumped, hearing a soft groan. They shuffled to their feet, peering around the seat to find the girl rousing. She winced, and then backed away as Lily and Severus neared her.

"It's okay, we aren't going to hurt you," the redhead soothed, speaking in a hushed whisper.

The brunette pushed herself farther into her seat. They always say that; it's not true.

Quite suddenly, a gentle knock sounded at the compartment door. Melaina trembled.

Severus warily went to open the door, while Lily did her best to comfort the other eleven-year-old female.

"Is Melaina in here?" Remus inquired, trying to look past the other boy.

Snape hesitated. "There is a girl, yes," he said, slowly, cautiously. "She's got brown hair. Do you know her?"

Lupin nodded. "Yeah, I do. James and Sirius are bloody pricks, trust me on that. We all met in Diagon Alley . . . Speaking of which . . ." He dug around in his pocket, finally pulling out her pen. "This is, in fact, hers. Can I speak to her?"

Severus frowned. "Sorry, she's not exactly talkative right now. Maybe later, if she ever wants to associate with you again."

That stung. A lot.

Remus growled, his eyes flashing gold briefly. "Shut it, you git! Let me talk to her!"

Snape forcefully shut the door in his face.

"So, you're Melaina?" Lily asked, her eyes glimmering. "That's such a unique name! It's so pretty, too!"

What? She's not . . . ? But . . . what? Melaina shook her head. "My name . . . ? It means black." She hesitated, but took a breath and continued in a meek voice. "My surname, Nyx . . . it means night. My middle name means dark."

"Wait a minute, you're basically saying that you're a dark person?"

She shrugged, the motion accompanied by a slight wince. Don't hit me, don't hit me, don't hit me . . .

"Why the hell were you named after the dark? Did your family have some sort of obsession about it?"

Oh, great. Melaina didn't speak, not wanting to discuss her relationships—because she had none.

Eventually, Lily realized that she wouldn't be getting anything else out of the girl. As she turned to start up a conversation with Severus, she could swear that Melaina almost smiled.

Almost.

Maybe Lily and Severus aren't so bad, after all.

A/N: Wow! That was much longer than I had intended for this. Melaina is definitely a hard character to write about; she feels at peace when she's alone, yet she still doesn't completely trust herself after the cut. She's insecure about opening up to others, especially now that James and Sirius hurt her after they'd seemed so nice. She doesn't know how to react to strangers, and because she's only ever really had traumatic experiences with people she gets unreasonably nervous and awkward, and surprised when she realizes that not everybody is out to get her like she thinks.

If you think that she's beginning to trust them, you're right. However, due to the fact that her childhood is worth less than crap because of the hurt she's suffered, she's very wary and ultimately confused and lost about the world. She is definitely not going to trust people so freely, so easily, and it's only worse since she has a lot of trust issues, all concerning the few people that she had trusted before.

Is this making any sense to you at all? No? Well, then . . . I'm sorry; to sum it all up, she doesn't want to trust anyone, and she's wary being around others. But she also doesn't trust herself enough to be alone. As you all can see, this girl has major issues concerning her life. She's going to be learning how to slowly heal from her traumatizing childhood, but it's not exactly going to suddenly get better for her. She's scarred for life, and that will never change.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

~June 11, 2016

Edit: I've just finished typing up the next chapter, and I'm currently working on the sixth. Fun.

Please review; I haven't asked this of you, but you all should really know by now. I appreciate any input at all, and it just fills me with joy at knowing people actually read this and aren't just oblivious to the existence of my story. Any suggestions are welcome, as well as constructive criticism. Flames will be read but otherwise completely ignored. I advise you to just stop reading; it is not a requirement to post a long hate rant about how terrible writers' works are. In fact, I believe it to be rather a waste of time, for both the author and the commenter, and I for one will not tolerate having my story put down.

Thanks for understanding,
Kit.