First day, First year Open Closed

Youssuf processed what he'd heard for a second, because it was unbelievable that someone could still hold such primitive views. He frowned at the girl. "Look, you, I'm a bloody firstie too. I dunno about any poisons and all, beyond arsenic and cyanide, which I read about in my mystery books. And not all purebloods are murderers and poisoners. Hell, I've never even heard of a wizard poisoning a person. Anyway, what do you think we're living in, the Middle Ages?" He hated it when people assumed all purebloods were Dark.
The girl hid her head in the book she was holding. Youssuf bent and saw that it was A History of Magic. He said more gently, "C'mon, I bet you didn't mean that. Anyway," he gestured towards the lounging Bancroft ,"Serafino's a pureblood too. Watch out for his scarf, it might bite at any moment."
He grinned, like a ray of sun breaking through the clouds. "Go on, have a Peppermint Toad or something. If it was poisoned, I'd be dead, no?" Youssuf leant back and returned to his book, sipping his Exploda Soda. Suddenly he choked, grabbing his throat and writhing in his seat.
He stuck out a tongue and pretended to die. "I'm dead! Dead! Booohoooo! This is my ghost!"
Youssuf winked at the girl who thought he was a poisoner. "What's your name, Cyanide Girl?"

The boy was getting accused of poisoning the candy offerings, as if poison was relegated to purebloods or even wizards. Sure, potions were but there was a difference between poisoning someone and lacing something with a potion. "I doubt it is any more poisoned than you are radioactive. After all, I hear that muggles do interesting things with nuclear fission." That was about as ridiculous as the notion she had made that a pureblood would be carrying about some poison and sociopathically lace treats that they would offer unwitting strangers.

She would return to her book, the antisocial sort she seemed to be. "Say something offensive then bury their nose in a book whilst the whole time lamenting why they cannot make any friends," Bancroft would almost narrate while Youssuf attempted to make nice with the girl. An interesting dynamic to observe, the Indian-born (by his assertion) youth was likely desperate for friends and socially awkward. Hogwarts purported a unique opportunity to start fresh, to learn how to assert and to succeed where he had likely struggled before.

A missed opportunity for the girl to make connections with useless condescension. If nothing else the future Gryffindor had the opportunity to make impressions in futile situations. In time he would learn. Not that he was having much success with the nervous chap turned mute over a scarf. He did not blame himself for lacking charm, he knew his influence was limited and the population he would be contending with would be unique.

She looked up from the old, second hand book with her common stare. She was still extremely angry, she looked up and she muttered, "I did understand, and I'm not taking any of your sweets!" She then lifted her book over her eyes her stare leaving to read 'Hogwarts a History'. "It's time you learned a thing or two about history!" Sweat was running down her, usually cold, face. Her hands were by her side clutching the edge of the cold, leather seat. "Just leave me be, please." she yelled moodily.

The future Ravenclaw clutched her wand hardly, flushed. "Uhm, sorry, I must be such a prat." Celeste closed her book as she opened a notebook and wrote in slanted, messy writing;
Chère Mère,
Je suis actuellement sur le Hogwarts express. Tu me manques beaucoup. Je suis dans un compartiment avec cinq garçons différents qui sont actuellement sans nom à mon avis. À Hogwarts il y en a; Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw J’espère être à Ravenclaw mais Hufflepuff ne serait pas mauvais.
Amour Celeste
When she finished she tore off the parchment with her delicate fingers. Then, folded it multible times into a neat swan.
"Sorry but does anyone have an owl?"
202 words.

Youssuf said ,"Kid, chill. I'm not forcing you to eat a sweet at wandpoint. I read Hogwarts: A History end to end years ago, because my uncle gifted it to me for my seventh birthday. I love reading a lot. You're no prat; that's usually reserved for Gryffindors! Heh."
Youssuf bent over to see what she was writing. "Unnamed in my opinion? I just told you the name of two boys: myself and Serafino. Ce commentaire n’était pas mérité."
"I learnt French from my uncle, too. By the way, you're gonna have to wait until we get to Hogwarts, I think. No firstie has the funds to buy any pet, much less an owl."
He leant back against his seat, only to discover that the bloody scarf had found its way onto his back. He flung it on the seat beside him and started reading his book again, while sipping his soda. Youssuf stared at the mute dude over his book and decided that if the group in the compartment would become friends, they could make a proper Band of Misfits. They had a Gryffindor (himself), which guaranteed parties and fun! Cyanide Girl was a sharp influence, she would no doubt tell the truth, no matter how unpleasant it be. Bancroft was the wit, and the mute boy the curiosity (in that he would be curious, not that he was a curiosity himself).

"No! No! No!" She yelled. "It says unknown to my knowledge!" She yelled "Also, don't all me cyanide! I suppose a person like you doesn't even know what that means!" Her stare stopped glowing, but she was still stern. "If you would like me to correct that, tell me your name!" she crossed her arms. She hesitantly look a chocolate frog from the wooden table. Suddenly, a glimmering, brown frog-like sweet hopped onto Celeste's head. "Agh!" She screamed as her hands scrambled to the heavens. "No! No! No!!". The card flew out of her hands, sliding across the table. The card revealed a prideful sight (Rowena Ravenclaw). Soon, she gave up and the charmed chocolate bounced out the window hitting the dirt with a brown splash. She looked at one of the boys, he was planning something. "Stop looking at me!" She yelled, accusingly. She raise the old book back over her eyes, still staring at the boy. Her eyes were drawn to the chocolate-frog card. "Rowena Ravenclaw!" She bursted. "I heard she was extremely good at Divination, I wonder what prophecies she's made.." Soon her head was back in a new book; 'Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1'. "I wanted to buy the whole series but the worker didn't let me.." She said with a grin.
Word Count: 221 words

Youssuf frowned again. It was a weird sensation, frowning; he didn't do it very often. This girl must be special; she'd made him frown twice in the space of a few minutes! "I know what cyanide bloody well means. It's a chemical poison. Hydrogen cyanide is the poison - our body produces it as a human metabolite and E. Coli, the bacteria in our intestines, forms it too. It's mainly a poison, though. My name is Youssuf Baid - from New Delhi, India. Indian wizards did perfect the poisons known to wizardkind, it's true; my own grandfather once poisoned a British Imperial Officer. However, I have no knowledge of how to use it."
He grinned widely and winked. "Too late, Cyanide Girl. You didn't introduce yourself, or even deign to tell us your name, so I dubbed you Cyanide Girl."
He watched her flail around for 10 seconds and then looked away, at her behest. "Rowena had powers of divination; her most famous talent was Prophetic Dreams. Such dreams led to the naming of Hogwarts itself. Legend has it, she chose the Sorting Hat and enchanted it with the other founders herself."
Finally she smiles, thought Youssuf. "Yeah, I asked him for the fifth-year Standard Book of Spells too. He told me to get lost."

She listened to him talk about Rowena, occasionally saying: "I know." and "Really?". "I hope to be in her house but Hufflepuff wouldn't be bad, I know I won't be in Slytherin, it's very rare for a muggle-born like myself so be in such a pure-blooded house." She looked down at the floor with determination. "Once I got my letter I decided to plan my entire school years; I already know what electives I'm taking (Ancient Runes, Divination, Arithmancy) I also know what I'm doing for my N.E.W.T.S (Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts) ,and I know my career: a healer." She reached into her leather, messenger satchel and grasped her wand her wand it had strange, flower-like patterns on it. "Approximately 12 inches, chestnut wood, and horned serpent horn. I have made sure to study horned serpents in every magical book I own, you?" She claimed, expecting him to be impressed. "I suppose a person like you would like to be something popular, maybe an auror." She pondered this for a moment, half expecting an answer. "Maybe you would work in the ministry?" She started pondering again whilst staring out the window, it was raining very hard. The stone bridges and tunnels had changed to vast fields of rocky mountains dominating over the train. "I suppose we're almost at the castle." She ended her daily dream and took grasped the piece of paper out of her satchel.

"You're quite right," said Youssuf ,"I do indeed aspire to be an Auror." He thought for a minute. "The horn of a Horned Serpent was a wand core used by Ilvermorny founders James Steward and Isolt Sayre when they began crafting wands, I know. But it's volatile, and sensitive to Parseltongue. Honestly, it would be much better suited to a Slytherin, no offense. My own wand is 26.6 cm aspen. Dragon heartstring. Dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most magical power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types, too. My hero, Hermione Granger, had a dragon wand too, and she rose to Minister of Magic."
He glanced outside the window and gave a sudden, violent start. "Bloody hell! We're almost at the castle! And I promised my friend Henry Vatellis I'd give his sister a book! Shit! I'll be back very soon, see you then. You'd best get dressed; the castle is just beyond these mountains, I was told."
Yossuf rushed out with a wave at Serafino and Cyanide Girl, and a nod in the direction of the other people.
He began looking into compartments, searching for Chess Vatellis.

"Just wait!" She yelled to the booming corridors. "My name is Celeste, Celestia Aurore." Soon, the boy was out of sight and her face fell absent, she hadn't talked to any of the people at all. Celeste was irritated at what he said. How could I be like a Slytherin? she repeated in her head. Well I guess I'm determined. In her opinion, she felt as though someone with a horned serpent core wand would be intelligent, determined yet very sensitive to parseltongue. She had read about many evil wizards who were parseltongue, including lord vordemort himself. "Harry Potter was a parseltongue," she told herself, but she knew it was because of their connection. The puzzle in her mind as the booming castle neared, she was not ready to cross a cold, magical lake on a boat! She shivered at the thought. A knot fell in her stomach. Why would he assume so much about me? She knew the boy was cocky but she didn't suppose he would suppose every, single thing about her. She felt extremely irritated. She brushed her blonde waves with her fingers, hoping she looked presentable for the sorting ceremony. She wondered what adventures awaited her at this new school. "Why does everyone associate snakes with slytherin?" She asked the group. She gazed out to the other compartments to see what he was doing. Her eyes met him: he was scrambling around foolishly. She chuckled and closed her tired eyes.
Word count: 248 words

John sat through all of this, pondering the first word he had heard. Pureblood. What was a pure blood? Pure confusion swept across his face as he looked up and said, "Hey, what exactly is a pureblood? I've heard the term before, but I don't think I know what it means."

John watches as the others ignore him, going on with their argument, which was getting particularly heated. He watched as the pale girl run out, with the other kid running after her. He sighs. "Arguments cause hatred. But so does silence, to be honest."

He sits up, looking at the scarf and wondering if its a lethifold. He immediately dismisses the thought, as the lethifold are native to the tropics, but continues wondering what kind of creature there is. Eventually though, his mind returns to the conversation from before and asks, "What is a pureblood? Nobody answered me before, so can someone tell me now?"

the two who had run out had come back in. the pale girl was sitting and reading, and the taller Indian boy was trying to talk to her. John looks past them and notices one of the treats on the seat and his eyes widen, looking at the sweets. He cautiously takes one, making sure that it's okay, before slowly eating it.