Chapter 3
An Interrupted Loneliness

How does a woman go fourteen years not knowing her husband is a wizard?

This was, to some degree, what filled Lauren's mind as the Hogwarts Express chugged down the tracks away from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, her father, waving, shrinking into the distance. She had been rather occupied with this thought in the few months that had passed since the arrival of a certain letter; a letter which, in fact, informed her that not only was she herself a witch, but that she had a place at a school for magical people. Magical people like her. Like her father. Not her mother, though. That much was apparent. The loud, terrifying arguments that took place amongst her parents (arguments which she had until that point had been alien to her household) after the arrival of her letter told her that much.

These thoughts only filled her mind to some degree, though, because a good portion of her consciousness was devoted to the intense, nauseating fear she held at the prospect of beginning life at her new school.

It was not only the fact that it was a magical school that frightened Lauren. She was terrified at the prospect of entering into any new school, even one of the normal sort. Lauren hated making new friends. It was, perhaps, a character flaw of hers, but a present trait nonetheless. At long last she had, more or less, secured two good friends at her previous school. All for naught, she supposed. Now all to look forward to was the awkward, self-conscious solitude that had characterized most of her school years.

A solitude which had thus far functioned rather smoothly, as Lauren was able to find an empty compartment of the train to sit prospect of having to inject herself into some already active social group whilst aboard the Hogwarts Express terrified her, possibly more than the prospect of meeting her Housemates. (She was hoping for Hufflepuff. Her father was a Slytherin in his school days, but she supposed less would be expected of a Hufflepuff.)

She'd spent her time on the train sitting and looking over some of her schoolbooks. She was growing rather confused with The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble, and considering picking up one of the Muggle books she had in her possession (Lauren, though not one to be prepared in much else, was always adequately stocked with reading material). Then, quite suddenly, the door to her compartment was wrenched open, and, quite as suddenly, rushed in a person, slamming the door behind them. Not only a person, but a boy, of all things. A freckled, glasses-clad boy with a mop of brown hair that was just slightly backcombed, but on the whole rather unruly. He was breathing heavily.

Lauren sat, petrified, trying and failing not to stare at the boy. He still hadn't said a word, but only stood, pale and gasping. Finally, Lauren managed to mumble, "May I help you?"

"Well", the boy said, turning to look out the window of the compartment door, "yes you can. Are these seats taken? Would you mind too terribly my sitting here?"

Contrary to the words coming out of her mouth assuring the boy that she did not mind, she did mind. She minded quite intensely. For not only did she want to maintain her comfortable solitude, but she had never excelled at speaking with boys.

"I'm sorry for barging in like that, I hope you'll understand. My... acquaintance", the boy said the word with a half snarl, "a first-year like myself, goes by the name of Reggie, was being the obnoxious little snot he truly is. Bought a toadof all things. A toad! Can you imagine?"

Lauren was not sure how to respond. Rather than a toad, her father had purchased her a barn owl, whom Lauren had named Milo. Lauren decided she'd just nod slightly and give an affirmative mumble. It was her usual social stratagem.

"Well I just can't abide toads. Not one bit. So Reggie decides it'd be a bloody nice idea to chase me around the train with the stupid thing."

Lauren again nodded, and felt terribly boring. Though the boy scarce gave her room to speak even if she had the ability to do so. He spoke with a agile, nervous, ferocity.

"I'm sorry for going on and on like that. Happens when I'm frightened. Though I do feel slightly emasculated in telling you how scared I was of a toad. And what else, I seem to have forgotten my manners." He extended a hand. "I'm Winston O'Malley."

If there was one thing Lauren had more difficulty with than speaking to people, it was touching them. Nonetheless, she gingerly took Winston's hand, with a small polite smile. "I'm Lauren."

"Nice to meet you, Lauren."

A rather awkward silence hung in the air. Lauren supposed it would be rude to pick a book back up. Winston, meanwhile, looked about the compartment, drumming his fingers on the seat. He seemed to Lauren very nervous and wound up. She imagined him to be the type that would be much quieter were there more than one stranger in front of him.

"So, uh, Lauren. What House are you hoping for?"

"Oh. Hufflepuff, I suppose."

Winston seemed surprised. "Really? Why's that?"

"They seem to be simplest. I'm not really all that interesting, you know. I'm not particularly brave, or ambitious, or clever, really."

"Oh come now, I'm sure that's not true. Anyway, Hufflepuff's probably not that bad. You just don't hear many people preferring to get it. People say they're a lot of duffers. But my mum was in Hufflepuff, and she's actually rather smart."

"Oh." said Lauren. It was one of her favorite words.

In danger of another awkward silence, Winston began again. "But you can't say you're not interesting or whatever. Everyone's interesting." He grinned. "I bet you're so interesting, they have to make a fifth house just for you. Could you imagine?"

Lauren blushed, another thing she did very frequently. "That would be something, wouldn't it?"

"It would. You'd even get to name it. What's your last name?"

"Volkov."

"Well there you go! The House of Volkov. That would sound amazing!"

To her surprise, Lauren found herself giggling slightly. She was finding herself increasingly comfortable with this Winston. So much so that she even ventured a question. "Well, what House would you prefer?"

"Besides Volkov House? I'd very much like Ravenclaw. I'm not exceedingly clever, really, but I figure Ravenclaws would be well stocked on books and things. And I'll need books. You know there are no electronics at Hogwarts, right?"

Lauren was aware of this. Her father had mentioned it to her, and it wasn't much of an issue for Lauren. She could easily wean herself off most anything. "Yes, my dad told me."

"Well I'm not sure how well I'm going to do without the internet. No internet, ever! Can you imagine? I... I spend a lot of time on the internet. I'm probably addicted. But I like reading as well. So I figure I can just read more, and it won't be a problem. Maybe."

"Maybe."

"So Lauren, if you don't mind me asking, are you Mu-", Winston, however, did not finish his question, for the door had once again been wrenched open, with another boy rushing in, albeit a much shorter boy, with very short hair and without glasses.

"Reggie I swear if you bring that stupid toad in here I will murder you!"

"Oh calm down, Winnie the Pooh." The boy did have the toad in his hand, but he promptly stuffed it into his back pocket. Lauren did not imagine this to be a very comfortable arrangement for the toad. He turned to Lauren. "That's what I call him, Winnie the Pooh. Winston, Winnie. Get it?"

The boy had an interesting accent that Lauren assumed to be American. She nodded in response to his question.

"Anyway." He turned back to Winston. "There's some older kids about to fight. Right inside the train! Seriously, come on."

"You're just going to throw that toad on me!"

"No I'm not, stop being such a baby. Come on before you miss it."

Warily, Winston stood up and walked out the door. Lauren had become curious too. She walked to the open door and leaned her head out ever so slightly.

It was true. Two older boys, at least fifth or sixth year by the look of them, were in the aisle, apparently ready to come to blows. Other students were leaning out of their compartments to witness the event, with a few brazen enough to stand in the aisle to watch, like Reggie.

Lauren could not exactly hear the exchange between the two boys, but she could tell that one was a Slytherin, and the other a Ravenclaw. Eventually, much to Reggie's chagrin, the two boys stomped off in opposite direction, fuming.

Reggie and Winston piled into the seat across from Lauren. Reggie didn't bother to ask if the seat was taken, but, apparently forgetting the toad in his back pocket, sat and promptly leaped up. He took the toad out, sat down, and rested it on his lap.

Winston cringed away from him.

"Oh come on, relax, I'm not going to touch you with it."

"You'd better not, Reggie. You will regret it. I'm serious. I'm completely serious now."

Reggie mocked Winston in a very poorly articulated Irish accent. "Oh Reggie I'm completely serious now. You're funny."

Winston settled slightly. Only slightly. His eyes kept darting back to the toad in Reggie's lap.

"Well", he finally said, "aren't you going to introduce yourself, you brute?"

"Um. Hey, I'm Reggie. Reggie Sten."

"I'm Lauren Volkov."

"Volkov. Are you, like, Russian?"

("Please excuse him." Winston interjected.)

"Well. My father is Russian. So I suppose I am."

With wide mouthed fascination, Reggie exclaimed, "Sweet! Say some Russian stuff."

("I'm so sorry", Winston said.)

Lauren's face reddened. Not the sort of warm pink blush that followed the compliment from Winston, but a feverish red burning that indicated her displeasure upon being put on the spot. "I actually just speak English." she muttered.

"Oh. That sucks."

Winston cleared his throat. "Well, since Reggie here is so content to, you know, completely disregard any social etiquette, I suppose we can pry into his nationality. You're probably wondering where he gets the strange accent from."

"You're the one with a weird accent, Winnie the Pooh."

"Well, he's not long been living in Ireland as a naturalized citizen."

"Dude, I can tell her. I'm not a little kid." Reggie said to Winston, who gave Reggie a look that seemed to imply a certain skepticism with his latter assurance.

"He was trying to tell you", Reggie went on, "that I'm American, but about a year ago we moved to Ireland. No real reason, really, my parents are just crazy about, you know, Irish and British stuff and whatever. Anyway, they aren't magical or anything, but turns out I am. And I guess I was in Ireland long enough for them to send to me a letter."

Winston clapped lightly. "Bravo. That was more eloquent than I could have managed, definitely."

In retaliation, Reggie brandished his toad at Winston, and Winston released a short sharp squeak. Lauren couldn't help but chuckle at the two of them.

Reggie was laughing too, but almost exclusively at Winston's expense, it would seem. "Well, I'll see you guys later. I'm gonna go buy some candy or something."

"You know the candy trolley will make its way down here, right? It is a trolley, after all."

Reggie glared at him. "Don't get smart with me Winnie." With that, he left.

Kicking his feet up into the seat and reclining himself, Winston sighed. "That", he said, "is probably the stupidest boy I know. He also happens to have become my best friend of sorts."

Lauren, as usual, wasn't entirely sure how to respond. She decided on "Oh".

"Yeah, but I can't be choosy with my friends." He laughed slightly. "I'm not exactly a social butterfly. I'm not sure whether I prefer it this way, or despise it."

"I understand completely", Lauren said immediately. Because she really did understand completely. But the eagerness behind her reply wound up embarrassing her, and again she blushed.

"Do you now? Well that's good to know. But please, don't get me wrong. Reggie's a good fellow. Just stupid." Winston sat up and looked out the window of the compartment door. "Well, would you look at that. The sweets trolley. Three Sickles says Reggie went the wrong way looking for it."

Lauren still blushed, but now she smiled as well.