"Well, of course, I told him that I had half a mind of where he could stick that frog spawn, right up—"
"Um, excuse me," I said hurriedly to a gaggle of girls passing by. I really didn't want to hear where she wanted the frog spawn to go.
"Yes?" The girl arched her eyebrow.
"Do you know if there are any empty compartments over there?" I asked, pointing to the end of the train. The same girl let out a high-pitched laugh.
"Of course there is! You don't even know?" She asked, chortling.
"Er, no, not really." I said nervously.
"Stop, Emmie." A brunette said sharply. "Emmie" glared at her. "It's okay that you don't know," She said kindly. "I'm Sadie, by the way. I'm a fifth year in Hufflepuff. That's Emmie, that's Cassie, that's Flora, and that's Viola." Each girl gave at little wave, except Emmie, who was still glaring at Sadie. "But Emmie's right. There's always one open compartment in there."
"But why?" I asked, exasperated. All I asked was if there were open compartments!
"Because," spoke up Flora, "it's cursed. Or so we think."
"But why is it cursed?" I asked, annoyed. For heaven's sake, just tell me!
"Well, it's because that used to be the Marauder compartment." Cassie said simply.
"And the Marauders are?" I said.
"Didn't your parents tell you? It was a group with Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and James Potter. Lily Potter used to join them, with Alice and Frank Longbottom." Rattled off Viola. Wait, what? James and Lily Potter?
"James and Lily Potter?" I echoed.
"Yeah, and the rest." Viola said.
"But just because they sat in there doesn't mean it's cursed!"
"Doesn't it? Because look where they are now! Black's in Azkaban, Pettigrew's murdered by Black, Lupin—well, nothing really happened to him—James and Lily Potter were murdered by You-Know-Who, and Alice and Frank Longbottom are insane." Finished Sadie. "Not exactly perfect lives, are they?" I battled with myself inside of my head. If I went, I would get to sit on the same seats my parents sat on, put my trunk where they had years ago, and look out the same window on the same route as them. But, if the Hufflepuffs were right, I not only would get to sit in the same place as my parents, I would get to meet a similar fate.
"Worst come worst, you can sit with us." Cassie smiled, tossing her pale-blond hair. Emmie gaped at Cassie and hit her on the arm. "Emmie, just because you're anti-social doesn't mean we are." She grinned when Emmie hit her on the arm again.
"Well, I think…I might go sit there." I said nonchalantly. Even Emmie looked at me in surprise. Sadie giggled.
"Ha! Nice one! You can sit with us, since your cleverness proved you worthy!" Sadie laughed.
"Er, what do you mean?"
"Well, that was a joke, wasn't it?"
"Not really, no." We stared at each other for a few seconds. Then Viola shrugged.
"It's her life, Sadie." I looked at her, offended.
"I'll have you know—"
"Viola's right." Cassie said. "It doesn't really matter to us if you want to get yourself cursed. Sadie, why don't you show…wait, what's your name?"
"Olivia Bla—Pot—Olivia. Just Olivia." I stuttered. If I said Olivia Black, I would be lying, and if I said Olivia Potter, then they wouldn't believe me and probably assume I'm cursed, because my parents were.
"Alright then, Just Olivia. Follow me." Sadie said. I walked next to her as she led me down the train. In every compartment I peeked in, there was a group of people who were chatting and laughing amongst themselves. Even the kids who looked like first-years as well had a lot of friends. But how? Was I the only witch who wasn't exposed a lot to the magical world? Was my grandmother the strictest of them all?
"Olivia…" Sadie tapped her foot impatiently. "We're here." I looked at the compartment. It looked normal enough to me; the only abnormality was that it was at the end of the train, so it had extra space. I glanced at Sadie before I touched the glass compartment door. She shrugged, as if echoing Viola's "it's her life."
I took a deep breath and opened the compartment. It looked like exactly like every other compartment on the train.
Except for one little difference.
There were two boys sitting there.
A boy with flaming red hair and freckles and a boy with messy, raven-black hair and round glasses.
As the boy with black hair brushed it out of his face, I realized who he was.
That boy is Harry Potter.
And Harry Potter is my brother.