Warning: short physical child abuse scene (just a sentence or two)

II. I Really Suck at Making Friends

It was almost time to leave for Hogwarts, and I couldn't be more nervous. Who would I sit with on the train? The only people I knew were Hermione Granger, whom I had made a bad impression on, Harry Potter, my parents' worst enemy, and Draco, whom I would never willingly walk within a five-mile radius of in a million years. The choices weren't looking too great.

I hadn't eaten anything that morning, knowing that I would just throw it back up. Lunch was usually the only meal I ate anyway. In the Manor, you either eat at the scheduled meal times or you don't eat at all, and I would rather starve than spend more time than necessary with insufferable snobs. Breakfast was the shortest meal, but it required me to get up in the A.M. hours, so I chose to attend lunch instead. But today, I couldn't stomach a single crumb, not even lunch.

And so, I packed my suitcase and waited in the library, contemplating the worst-case scenarios. I could have no one to sit with—no, someone would have to sit next to me or else they wouldn't have a seat. Hermione could hate me after I bumped into her in Diagon Alley—no, she was apologetic and seemed friendly enough. I could get sorted into Slytherin—I had no self-reassurance for that one.

My fantasies were only adding to my anxiety, so I determined I needed something to distract myself. I could use a good laugh, so I searched the shelves for Gilderoy Lockhart's biography, Magical Me. Once I found it, I immediately felt better. Just the sight of his dumb smile and fake toupee on the cover cracked me up.

I was looking through the photo album in the back when Manuel walked in.

"There you are!" he exclaimed in Spanish, his thick Argentinian accent evident. "What's so funny?"

I showed him the cover and he burst out into laughter.

"Are you ready for Hogwarts?" he asked once he regained his composure.

"Not in the slightest," I replied in Spanish, my nerves resurfacing. "Manuel, what if I'm sorted into Slytherin?"

"I'd still love you," he teased.

"But I'd be in the same house as my parents and the Malfoys," I worried, "and I don't want to turn out like them."

"Not every Slytherin is an rich son of a bitch, Sadie," he said. Sorry to disappoint, but that doesn't rhyme in Spanish. "Like the Potions professor at Hogwarts. He was one of my favorites, even though I was in Hufflepuff and he was the Head of Slytherin. I looked up to him a lot, actually."

"You did?" I inquired.

"Of course," he chuckled. "He was intelligent, kind, and very talented. And he made an effort to connect with the students. We all loved him." My excitement for Potions class tripled. "And they're not all racist either. Like Mrs. Malfoy's sister, Andromeda, she was a Slytherin, yet she married a Muggle-born Hufflepuff. I think you'd like her, she was disowned and everything." I did think I'd like her.

"Trust me, Sadie," Manuel continued, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder, "whatever house you end up in, I'm sure you'll be the best in your class."

I offered a fake smile. As if.

"Now, come on," Manuel said. "They're waiting for you."

I grabbed my trunk and my owl, whom I had named Firefly for her orange eyes, and followed Manuel to the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor. I reflexively tensed up and quickened my pace as I saw Lucius glaring at me. When I reached him, he slapped me hard against the cheek, leaving a painful sting. Tears threatened to spill, but I held them back. I wasn't going to give him the reaction he wanted.

"Don't keep me waiting again," he ordered. "Understood?"

"Yes, sir," I mumbled, rubbing my cheek where he had slapped me.

Since the Malfoys refused to use Muggle transportation, we teleported into King's Cross through Apparation. The floor dissolved beneath my feet. My eyes were closed, yet I could still feel myself spiraling until smooth tile reappeared below me. I opened my eyes to find myself in a blurry, tunnel-shaped enclosure. Once the room stopped spinning, I could make out hundreds of people bustling through the station and waiting for their train by rusty railroad tracks. The sound of suitcases bumping across the floor and dozens of voices filled the air. The walls and floor were painted a dull grey, but the sunlight slipping through the skylight made the tiles glisten. I looked over to see if Draco's head had been ripped off in the process of Apparation, but unfortunately, he was still alive and well.

A few Muggles stared at our owls with curious expressions as we pushed our trolleys to platform nine and three-quarters, the hidden gateway to the Hogwarts Express. Luckily, the security didn't mind. Strange people passing through at the beginning of the school year wasn't a foreign concept to them.

As we approached the platform, we encountered a large family of two parents and five children being rushed along by their mother, all of them with pale, freckled skin and fiery red hair. Behind them stood none other than Harry Potter, lost and confused. He might have never even heard of platform nine and three-quarters since he grew up in the Muggle word. I wanted to help him, but Lucius and Narcissa would kill me if they found out I befriended Harry Potter. Considering their Death Eater history, they hated him with a burning passion, and I didn't want another slap to the face.

"COME ON, WE NEED TO GET TO PLATFORM NINE AND THREE-QUARTERS!" the mother shouted. "HURRY ALONG, YOU ALL, OR WE'LL MISS THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS!" Harry eventually seemed to figure out they were wizards and followed them. The Malfoys and I continued pushing our trolleys to the platform, but we kept our distance from Harry and the family.

I heard Harry ask if they knew where to find platform nine and three-quarters, to which the mother responded, "Follow us, dear, that's where we're headed!" She must have seen the anxious look on his face, because she added, "Don't be nervous, dear! It's Ron's first time at Hogwarts, too." She gestured to the youngest of the brothers.

"Percy, would you show him how to get to the platform?" she requested from a mature-looking boy with a golden badge pinned onto his shirt. His posture was perfect, and not a strand of hair was out of place. For a moment, he reminded me of Draco, and it took all I had to not hate him at first sight. Percy pushed his trolley at running speed and, startling Harry, vanished into the dividing barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"Fred, you next," she said to one of two identical twins.

"I'm not Fred, he's Fred!" He gestured to the other.

"And you call yourself our mother," said the second twin.

The mother let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, I'm sorry, George, just go on or we'll be late!" she urged.

The first grabbed his trolley. "Actually, I am Fred," he laughed, and ran into the wall as fast as possible, no doubt to avoid being scolded by his mother. George followed close behind. To tell them apart, I made a mental note that George's smile was a bit lopsided, and Fred's was symmetrical. And Fred's hair stood up a bit more. But despite their differences, I couldn't help but see myself in both of them.

Ron went next, followed by a tiny girl who looked too young to attend Hogwarts. Their mother then explained to a stunned Harry how to access the hidden platform. After watching Harry make it through safely, she ran into the wall herself.

Then, it was our chance to enter platform nine and three-quarters. I volunteered to go first so that I could separate myself from the Malfoys and find Harry. As long as he didn't know who I was, we could be great friends. I would have to savor it while it lasts.

I remembered the redheaded mother's words: "You have to run at it with no fear in your mind, or else you'll crash." I took a deep breath in and imagined myself disappearing into the bricks with ease. I closed my eyes, and after less than a dozen running steps, I found myself inside platform nine and three-quarters.

The platform was much more spacious and pleasant than the Muggle train station. The sight of it made me forget my mission to find Harry. The railroad tracks were a sleek silver, lacking even a hint of rust. The walls weren't a dull gray, but a calming baby blue, and the floor was an elegant white. There was no skylight; the place shone on its own.

Witches and wizards of every sort filled the area, and not one of them seemed stressed or had to shout over each other to communicate. A few older wizards wore cloaks and hats, most parents wore dressy clothing, and kids wore jeans and t-shirts they had probably thrown together in five minutes, like me. I had to get up at 10:00 A.M. that day, and I was not a morning person.

I heard the three Malfoys arrive behind me, so I left their vicinity as quickly as I could. They wouldn't miss me.

"Oh, look at you! My only child, going off to Hogwarts!" Narcissa praised, beaming at her son. She was wearing a dress for the occasion and a full face of makeup, framed by her blonde waves. Lucius simply stared at Draco with a twisted smile of approval plastered on his face, his special way of showing sentiment. He was wearing his nicest set of dress robes, and his long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail complete with a bow. I was sure that if only I was going to Hogwarts, neither of them would have put as much effort into their appearances. In their minds, I had already ruined their image beyond fixing.

As I watched the scene from afar, jealousy got the best of me. It tormented me to think they didn't consider me a child, too. I tried to imagine that Narcissa's praise and Lucius's twisted smile of approval were for me, but it only made me crave their affection more. In that moment, it didn't matter that the Malfoys were wretched people. I just wanted what Draco had handed to him every day of his spoiled, luxurious life: love. Acknowledgement. Was that too much to ask?

And don't get me wrong, it's not like I wanted Voldemort and my mother back; I doubt they'd care much about me either. I simply wanted to swap places with any of the happy children in the platform, even just for a moment. It may have been selfish to wish my position upon someone else, but sometimes I thought that all those people who made my life a living hell deserved to spend a day in my shoes.

Lucius and Narcissa didn't seem to notice I'd abandoned them, but Draco did. When he noticed me, his eyes flickered with a hint of—guilt? Did he feel bad for me? Maybe there was a side to him that wasn't despicable. Or maybe I was hallucinating. I figured it was the latter.

At last, the magnificent Hogwarts Express pulled in. Parents, including Narcissa, kissed their children goodbye before they could escape onto the train. I saw a parentless Harry walking toward the train by himself, making me feel a bit less alone. Fred and George rushed over to help him with his luggage. I set off to join them, but by the time I reached the train, they had already disappeared inside. With one last look at the Malfoys, I entered the train and pulled my suitcase and the cage containing my owl along the corridor between compartments. After a bit of searching, I found Harry staring out the window, sitting in a compartment with no one but his owl. His grim expression was all too familiar. He, like me, wished he had caring parents to kiss him on the forehead and say they'll miss him. Like me, he hated seeing all the people out in the crowd with a family.

"Can I sit with you?" I asked with hesitance. The loneliness left his face as he nodded and motioned for me to take the seat across from him.

"Sadie, right?" His questioning of my name reminded me there were some people here who weren't familiar with me, and wouldn't try to avoid me. The thought reduced my nerves a bit.

"Yeah. And you're Harry?" I asked, attempting to make him feel normal as well.

"I know you know my name," he replied, "but thanks for the effort."

I sighed. "So, how are you liking the wizarding world so far?"

"It's, well, magical." He let out a slight chuckle.

"Yeah, that's kind of our whole thing," I laughed. "Just wait till we get to Hogwarts. It's supposed to be beautiful."

"You know, you're a lot less… what's the word I'm looking for?… hateable than your brother."

"Oh, I'm aware," I said. "Malfoys tend to be that way."

"What's a Malfoy?" A snarky grin appeared on his face. "Some sort of troll?"

"Of sorts, yes," I said, grinning back. "It's my godparents' surname. They're a super old and rich family and think that fact puts them above everyone else."

We were interrupted by the squeak of our compartment door opening."Can I sit here?" a voice asked. "Everywhere else is full." We looked up to see the freckled redhead Ron looking down at us. We both mumbled some form of "go ahead" and he closed the compartment door and sat next to Harry.

"I'm Ron Weasley," he introduced himself.

"Harry Potter," Harry said.

"Harry Potter?!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes widening in admiration. "But that means you're… you're Harry Potter!"

"I would think it does."

Fortunately, another creak from the door stopped our conversation before Ron could ask for my name. This time, it was Draco, accompanied by his 'friends' Crabbe and Goyle. They weren't so much friends as bodyguards for Draco, who wouldn't still be alive without them. Crabbe and Goyle were both a couple heads taller than him, but somehow had no room in their oversized heads for a brain. Even Draco was somewhat smart; I'd give him that much.

"What are you doing here?" I scowled, resting my feet on the seat to show they weren't welcome to sit.

"Everyone's saying Harry Potter's in this compartment." He looked past me and Ron, his eyes landing on Harry. "So is it true? Are you really him?"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled.

"Wow," Draco marveled. "Well, they're Crabbe and Goyle." He gestured to the two figures towering over him without looking back at them. "And I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy."

Ron attempted to hide a laugh with a cough, but to no avail.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" Draco sneered.

"It is," I jumped in, but he ignored me.

"Oh, I know who you are," he said to Ron, glaring. "Red hair? Freckles? Hand-me-down robes? Father told me all about you. You must be a Weasley," he mocked, making Ron turn as red as his flaming hair. I resisted the impulse to throw Draco out of the window.

"Go piss off a hippogriff, pendejo," I snapped.

He ignored me, as usual, and turned back to Harry. "You'll find some wizards are better than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort," he said, glancing between me and Ron. "I can help you there."

He extended a hand, but Harry didn't take it. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."

This train ride was getting better and better.

A flustered Draco stared at me for help with a comeback, knowing Crabbe and Goyle weren't great with words. I raised an eyebrow to remind him that we hated each other, and he shut the compartment door with a bang and sulked away, defeated.

"That was amazing," I told Harry as the train lurched forward. I turned to Ron. "Sorry about my godbrother. He's an arse."

"Your godbrother?" Ron's jaw dropped. "But that makes you… your eyes… you're…"

Oh, right, I forgot the entire wizarding world hated me.

Ron was from a wizarding family. He must have recognized me. And if he didn't before, he did now, because everyone knew the Malfoys were my godparents. I diverted my frustratingly recognizable eyes to the rolling hills outside the window so I wouldn't have to see his terrified face.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"Do you know who she is?" Ron whisper-shouted.

"Yeah, her name's Sadie—"

"No, no, do you know who her father is?"

"No, who?"

"Y-You-Know-Who."

"No, I don't know who, actually. That's why I asked." I sighed at Harry's cluelessness, wanting to get this big reveal over with. He was going to find out sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner.

Ron rapidly shook his head. "No, no, no, You-Know-Who, as in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

"V-Voldemort?!" Harry stammered. I winced as he stared at me in disbelief. "You're Voldemort's daughter?"

"Don't say the name!" Ron interjected.

"It's only a name—"

"Just don't say it!"

"Fine, fine," Harry said, putting his hands up. He turned back to me. "You lied to me."

"I didn't lie!" I defended.

"You said you had no connection to Voldemort at all."

I did say that, didn't I?

"I panicked, okay?" I retorted. "And what was I supposed to say? 'My name is Sadie Silverwood, you killed my father, prepare to die'?"

"Are you following me?"

"What?"

"You expect me to believe the daughter of the person who murdered my parents walked into the same store as me at the same time by coincidence?"

"Yes, because it was—"

"No, it wasn't!" Harry argued. "You're following me, trying to get close to me so you can help Vol—You-Know-Who finish whatever crazy things he started—"

"That's not true at all!" I felt myself blushing. "I didn't know you were Harry Potter when I first met you! Look, I'm too lazy to brush my hair in the morning; do you really think I'm dedicated enough to carry out a murder?"

"Well, now I know you're lying, because your hair looks on point."

"Well, I had to leave my room today; that's different," I explained. "And thanks. But look, it's not my fault I'm his daughter. And it doesn't mean I'm like him! What did I ever do to you? Nothing! So why are you accusing me of things I'd never dream of?"

Ron and Harry exchanged sour looks, and I realized I hadn't made myself more likeable.

"Harry, maybe we should switch compartments," Ron urged, and the two of them stood up to leave. At first, I didn't protest, but then, I realized what I was letting go. These were my only potential friends, and I couldn't rely on the possibility that someone else might come along. I had to keep them in this compartment until they liked me.

"Funny," I began casually, "I thought everywhere else was full." Harry and Ron exchanged bitter looks and took their seats again.

"You never answered my question," I added, trying to hide my triumphant smirk.

"What question?" Harry said.

"The one about why you're accusing me of being a serial killer when I've committed a grand total of zero crimes."

"Well, you were arrested before, weren't you?" Ron retorted, making Harry's eye widen. "I mean, they didn't arrest you for nothing. And the Daily Prophet said you bribed your way out of it." Leave it to the papers to twist the facts and make me look like a criminal.

"You mean the Daily Propaganda?" I retorted. "They did arrest me for nothing, thank you very much. I was buying the newest broomstick, and the Ministry arrested my innocent seven-year-old self right in the middle of the store. It was terrifying. So I asked for a trial, and they tried to make me slip up about some awful thing I've done. But they had to give up because, surprise surprise, I've never done anything against the law in my life. I didn't bribe my way out of anything."

"That's kind of ridiculous," Harry mumbled, shifting in his seat.

We're making progress, I thought.

"Exactly!" I exclaimed. "I was seven! What were they thinking?"

"Yeah," Harry said, processing the conflicting perspectives on who I am.

"She's probably lying, Harry," Ron said.

Harry paused. "But what if she's not?"

"What?!"

"I mean, if she hasn't done anything—"

"But she has!" Ron urged. "She has to have done something, or at least be planning on it! She's You-Know-Who's daughter, for Merlin's sake!"

"Do we have any proof that I'm his daughter, though?" I challenged.

"You're just grasping at straws now," said Ron, who wasn't entirely wrong. "Didn't your mum admit to it when she was sent to Azkaban?"

"Let me believe," I muttered. "Just name one bad thing I've done. Besides existing."

Ron furrowed his brow, thinking. "Like… well… there was that time when you… um…"

I let out a chuckle. "See? You can't do it."

"Well, uh…" Ron began his unintelligible stammering once again. "Fine, I can't! But who cares about the technicalities?"

"Well, as someone who's been hated her entire life and heard hundreds of death threats," I began, "I happen to care a lot about the technicalities."

"Okay, okay, sorry," Ron said without sincerity. Before he could criticize me any further, the compartment door slid open.

"Have any of you seen a toad?" A frazzled Hermione Granger stood in the doorway. "A boy named Neville's lost his."

We all shook our heads no.

"Oh, are you doing magic?" she said, looking at the wand in Ron's lap.

Ron blushed. "Well—"

"Let's see it then!" She sat down next to me as Ron raised his wand and took a rat out of his pocket. I would have scolded him for treating his pet so cruelly, but he started reciting a spell before I could speak.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow!"

He flicked his wand, but nothing happened.

"I don't think that's a real spell," I said.

"And if it is, it's not a very good one," Hermione rambled. "I've tried a few spells for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, so it was such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course! I mean, it's the best school of witchcraft out there, I've heard… Oh, and I've learned all our course books by heart. I just hope it'll be enough. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

Ron and Harry introduced themselves. She started rambling again before I could do the same.

"Oh, are you really Harry Potter? I've read all about you! You're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century! And you're Sadie, right?" she said to me. I worried that I might have been in one of those books. That would only make another bad impression on her.

"Sadie Silverwood," I mumbled.

Hermione's smile faded. "Oh, I've read about you, too…" She trailed off as she scooted down the seat, putting some space between us. Her face lit up again as she changed the subject. "What house are you going to be in? I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, and the headmaster Professor Dumbledore himself was in it! I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… Anyways, you'd better change, I'll expect we'll be there soon. Also, you've got dirt on your nose, did you know?" she said to Ron. She exited the compartment before we could begin to answer her hundreds of questions. I promised myself I would apologize to her for what happened in Diagon Alley later.

"Whatever house she's in, I hope it's not mine," Ron grumbled.

"Why not? She seems nice." I defended.

"She seems like a know-it-all!"

"She's just excited!"

"I hope you aren't in my house either," Ron muttered. I looked away once again.

"What house were your brothers in, Ron?" Harry interjected, changing the subject.

"Gryffindor. Every one of them. Mum and Dad were, too. I don't know what they'd say if I'm not. Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff wouldn't be too bad, I guess, but imagine if I'm put into Slytherin!"

"I'd rather be expelled!" I exclaimed. Ron just stared back.

"But that's the house that Vol—your father was in, wasn't it?" Harry questioned.

"Yeah, that's why I don't want to be in it." Now I had confused Harry, too.

A cacophonous clatter outside the compartment put our argument to an end. "Anything from the trolley, dears?" asked an old woman pushing a cart full of candy.

Ron turned pink and looked longingly at the cart, and I discovered the key to winning him over: food. I took a handful of coins out of my wallet and said: "One of each, please." He gaped at the pile of Sickles in my hand as I handed it to the lady, and she gathered one of each item from the cart for us.

"Go on, have some," I said, popping some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans in my mouth. "I'm not going to eat all of this myself."

"Fine, maybe you're not that bad," Ron admitted, taking a chocolate frog from the stack. Every chocolate frog package came with a card of a famous person, and every wizard loved to collect them.

Ron looked at the card on the package. "Oh, it's Merlin, I have a million of him."

"Can I have it, then?" I asked, hopeful. "He's the only one I'm missing."

"Really?" Ron questioned. "He's supposed to be the most common card."

"I have awful luck."

"Take it, then, I don't need it." Ron handed me the card, and I smiled. After all these years, my collection was complete.

Harry took a chocolate frog too, only to have it escape its package and jump out of the window. Ron and I chuckled as Albus Dumbledore's face disappeared from the card.

"You can't expect him to stay around long," Ron joked in response to Harry's shocked face.

"Well, in the Muggle world, people stay still in photos," Harry said.

"Weird," Ron replied. I tried to nod my head in agreement as I gagged on a rotten egg-flavored jelly bean.

"What's your Quidditch team?" I asked Harry.

"What's Quidditch?"

"What's Quidditch?" Ron and I repeated in astonishment before launching into a full explanation of the wonderful sport. There were four balls: a Quaffle, two Bludgers, and the Golden Snitch. Each team had seven players: one Keeper, two Beaters, three Chasers, and one Seeker. Every player flew on their own broomstick during the game. The Chasers could score ten points a piece by throwing the Quaffle into the goal guarded by the opposing team's Keeper. The Beaters use bats to keep Bludgers away from their teammates and instead aim them at the opposing team to prevent them from scoring. The Seeker is arguably the most important role in a game of Quidditch, because without them, the game would go on forever. A Quidditch match ends when one of the Seekers catches the Golden Snitch, which is worth one hundred and fifty points. Usually, this secures a victory for the Seeker's team. Each of the four houses at Hogwarts had a Quidditch team and competed against each other throughout the year.

"So, it's basically a mixture of football and basketball, but while flying?" Harry asked. Not knowing what either football or basketball were, Ron and I just smiled and nodded.

It seemed as if mere minutes had passed by the time we neared Hogwarts. The three of us rushed to dress in our Hogwarts robes and finish our snacks. The conductor told us to leave our luggage on the train, so we did as we were told and exited into the Hogwarts ground.

"Firs' years! Firs' years! C'mon, follow me!" a rough voice called. I discovered it was coming from a rugged man who must have been three times our size. His scraggly brown beard and hair fell down to his chest, and his welcoming smile never dimmed.

"That's Hagrid," Harry said to Ron and I.

"You know him?" I asked.

"Yeah, he broke into my house and gave me a cake." I didn't ask any further questions.

We followed him down a narrow dirt path, surrounded by a thick forest of bushes and pine trees. When the path reached a clearing, it led us to a vast, black lake, and on the other side lay a magnificent castle.

A chorus of "Ooohs!" rang around us, including my own. Hogwarts was just as stunning as I overheard Lucius describe. The enormous castle towered over the lake, and its numerous towers stretched towards the sky. Golden light streamed through its windows, shining brighter than the stars. It was mesmerizing.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called out, pointing to a series of canoes in the lake. Harry, Ron, and I took a boat for ourselves. We glided on the smooth water, the boat guiding itself through the rocky black cliffs, until we finally landed at the door of the castle.

Hagrid turned to us, beaming. "Welcome to Hogwarts."