First Impressions

The entire plane ride was spent with my headphones in my ears, music blasting. Now that we've landed and have our things in the trunk of the taxi, we are on our way to the train station. It's been years since I've last stepped foot in this country. Dad used to bring the family here every so often, giving us a taste of the country he so dearly missed. He would take us to the pubs he would go to when he was around the same age as Thomas and I or court us off to his favorite getaway spots throughout the busy London atmosphere. He'd leave us every night we spent in the city, leave Mother by herself where she kept wondering where she went wrong and Dad was running the streets committing whatever atrocities he claimed were to better the family.

We were better off than some, that's for sure. Thomas always had the latest sneakers and electronics. He sported his wealth with pride, looking up to Dad with eyes full of respect. On the other hand, there was me. I rarely took Dad's money, choosing to work for mine instead. Spending as I pleased without guilt dripping from every receipt of purchase. That didn't stop Dad from shelling dollar after dollar into our trust funds, not to be touched until we turn 20. Thomas has been itching to get his hands on his fortune for his next birthday. I wonder where he is.

Mother's hand rests on my thigh beside me in the taxi. She is smiling at me, but I know she's just as anxious as I am about all of this. But we dare not speak about the specifics while in the back of the cab. You never know who you're around.

"Everything will be alright," she says, voice steady. "You will love the school. Your dad went when he was younger and he's always wanted you and your brother to go."

I bite my tongue as I want to make a smart remark about not caring about what Dad has wanted. But that won't help the situation so I give her a feeble smile back and nod. This seems to satisfy her because she lets out a breath she had been holding and goes back to her phone, rapidly texting someone a reply. She's holding it together at least.

When we arrive at the station, she leads me to a pillar between platforms 9 and 10. She hands me my shiny golden ticket. We had already discussed the process of entering 9 ¾ before we left the house, so I try to keep my nerves calm. I pocket the ticket and I feel like it's a 1000 pounds, weighing me down to a fate I'm not quite ready for. I grip my wand in my pocket and decide it's too late to turn back.

Mother is shifting from foot to foot, staring at the large clock reading 10:45 a.m. We've got a solid 10 minutes before I should head off to board the train. When her eyes finally meet mine, she's succumbed to letting her guard down. Tears begin to swell and she pulls me close, hugging me tightly.

"We will get through this," she whispers in my ear. "Do you understand? You are going to be alright."

I hadn't voiced any of my fears to her, but as a mother leaving her youngest to fend for herself, I'm sure she's got her own fears for me. I wrap my arms around her plump waist and I try to blink back my tears.

"You don't have to worry about me, Ma," I say with a little laugh. "I just want you to be safe." As safe as you can be, I think to myself.

She sniffs and pulls back to look at me. She suddenly has a stern look in her eye. "Now, Kira. Listen to me. If your father tries to contact you…or even Thomas…you let me know right away."

"Ma, I don't think—" I begin, but she shakes her head cutting me across with a "Promise, me."

She's no longer crying and she's waiting for my response, not breaking eye contact. With a nod I give her my word. She doesn't relax but looks back at the clock.

"You better get everything on board," she says. "I'll send an owl for you when I get the chance. It was the last thing on the list I hadn't had a chance to buy you. You'll find all your supplies packed away in your trunk and your robes are in there too with some pocket money. Don't spend it all in one place."

"Thanks," I say, although I am a little sad I hadn't had the shopping experience on my own. But with the sudden move, I barely got to make any choices for myself.

We embrace again and I honestly will miss her. As I kiss her cheek goodbye, more tears begin to fall. I casually lean up against the wall with my trunk and pass through to the other side, her tear stricken face the last I see before I'm through. I'm thrown into the midst of witches and wizards bustling to board the train and say their goodbyes to their loved ones.

With a little time to spare, I stare at the mixture of people. So many backgrounds, so many different experiences of a life I was never really a part of. Aside from the teachings Mother and Dad had given me and Thomas, it was like we were more Muggle than actual wizards and witches. But that didn't mean we weren't good at being magical. After all, when you've got a father who dabbles in the Dark Arts, you've learned how to manage and take care of yourself over the years.

Calls to board the train fill the open space from the Prefects lining along the train. I open my trunk to pull out my robes. Mother has everything organized down to the labeled vials she included. There's a black bag that holds my change of robes as well as some wizarding money Mother promised, tucked into a pocket. I pull my trunk forward, glad that I didn't have a screeching pet with me like other students had at the moment. A prefect takes my trunk and places it among the rest.

I step on board and begin to try to find the nearest empty compartment. It proves to be difficult, as everyone is already with their friends. I spot scared first years throughout the train, just as anxious as I am. But the difference between me and them is that I'm already sure of which house I'll be sorted into. Unlike them, I'll be sorted privately with the Headmistress before the main sorting. Mother really worked her own magic to get me around attending the ceremony with children six years younger than me. Having to start in my 7th year was bad enough, but having to deal with the pressure of being center stage so fast would make my head spin. I was to meet a Professor McGonagall at the entrance of the castle.

I'm nearing the end of the train before realizing I have yet to find a place to sit. I stop in front of a compartment with a deep breath. I'll just enter and make friends with whoever is inside. Easy as pie. I find it hard to fix a smile to my face, but I do so anyways as I open the door. Immediately I believe that maybe I hadn't picked the best compartment of people to make friends with. Five sets of eyes look in my direction and it doesn't take long to see the distaste soon follow.

"Lost?" sneers a pug faced girl, who was stroking the blonde hair of a grey eyed cutie in her lap.

"No," I say once I regain my courage. Before I can lose my last bit of nerve, I sit down in the vacant seat beside a rather large guy who didn't know what to do with my sudden choice. In fact, he looks to the blonde for approval.

I meet the eyes of the Black guy sitting beside the girl and he's looking at me with a curious expression, as opposed to the unfriendly ones I'm experiencing.

"You must be," the pug faced girl shoots at me. "Who are you and why are you dressed like that?"

I look down at my brown boots, black skinny jeans, and SWS black tee. It's then that I notice everyone else is wearing black robes. And each of them had green and silver accented on their ties. I think I found a Slytherin compartment. I vaguely remember Tom saying something about Dad being sorted into the Slytherin house and them wearing green and a serpent as their house animal.

"I didn't know I had to change so soon," I say, feeling slightly embarrassed for sticking out already. I'm sinking into my old self that I promised I wouldn't become here. I brush it off. "I'm sure I'll have time to change later. By the way, I'm Kira."

"So?" she says and I raise my eyebrow at her. The attitude is coming thick and heavy.

"Lighten up, Pansy," says the black guy, eyes on me. "I'm Blaise. And you're next to Crabbe and Goyle. This here's Draco."

Draco and I meet eyes and he seems to be looking at me with a sense of disinterest and maybe a hint of annoyance.

"You're new," Blaise continues. "What year?"

I'm not surprised that he can tell, it's practically written on my forehead. "I'm here to finish my last year of school."

"That's stupid," quips Pansy. "Why the hell would your parents send you for only a year?"

I'm growing impatient with her attitude fast. I try to keep my composure as I say "It's just the way things happened. I'm not worried, I can keep up."

"Keep up with your search for a new compartment," she says.

"Keep up with your attitude and we're going to have more than a seating arrangement problem," I say without hesitation. I mentally high five myself for not slipping up with the quick comeback.

Suddenly the compartment goes quiet and Draco looks at me with a slight peek in interest. Pansy has stopped stroking his hair and is looking like she's ready to fight. I haven't gotten into a fight since middle school when a girl thought it would be funny to knock my drink out of my hand in the cafeteria. She may have gotten a few good hits in, but I'm not the one who walked away with a broken arm.

I'm reaching for my wand when suddenly the blonde moves from her lap and has his wand in my face. He moved faster than I planned and my wand is barely raised when he's standing over me.

"I've had enough of this boring conversation," he says. "Get the fuck out of here."

The fact that they wanted me to leave made me plant my feet even more. I had every right to be there and they were not going to get the opportunity to see me leave without a fight. Nobody was going to talk to me that way and think they could get away with it. My nervousness and sense of embarrassment were gone without a trace and my stubbornness and hardheadedness took its comfortable place. Yet, my heart was pounding out of my chest at the sudden confrontation.

"Are you fucking hard of hearing?" Pansy breathes behind him.

I hold my hands up to make it seem as though I'm surrendering. Draco's eyes quickly dart to my exposed wrist and I take the opportunity to knock his wand out of my face and put mine inches from his.

"You can't be serious," I laugh, staring him directly in the eye. "Are all Slytherins this ignorant or is it just you guys?"

Draco isn't paying attention to my wand, but my wrist. He reaches up and boldly grabs my arm, twisting it over to reveal my family tattoo.

"What are you doing?" I start to panic. Being touched is not one of my favorite things and it's the quickest way to getting kicked in the balls. I try to yank my arm, but he grips it tighter and looks at me.

"Who are you?" He demands, coldness in his voice. And something else I can't figure out.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I say.

He tightens his grip and I wince slightly, but try not to show it. He's looking at me intently and I think I know what he's feeling. Fear.

"You know what I'm talking about," is all he says and I can tell he's pieced together who I am on his own.

I look around and the others are staring blankly at Draco and I. Pansy looks furious to see something going on between me and Draco that she doesn't know about. It clicks that my tattoo has sparked something in Draco. He must know Dad somehow. Or maybe his family does, which means he's in the same history I am.

"Let me go," I hiss. He thinks for a moment before releasing me.

I could tell he wants to press further, but the tattoo and its meaning is stopping him from pursuing anymore. I couldn't believe my family history has followed me here to the Hogwarts student body. How was I to expect children of the followers my dad ran with to recognize me? But it seems like Draco is either the only one who noticed or knows what it means.

As I make for the door, he whispers "I'll be seeing you around…Saunders."

And with that, I left the compartment with my heart still racing. I have no idea what I've walked into, but I was not ready for it, that's for damn sure! Mom is going to want to hear about this, so I make a mental note to send an owl as soon as I get the chance. And now there's this Draco character to worry about. And my attempt at making friends has just gone down the drain.

Well, fuck.