First day, First year Open Closed

Celeste was reading, she was very interested on the last few pages of 'History of Magic'. She started examining the descriptions as one of the boys, a small one, continuingly asked what a pure-blood was.

"Have you read any book at all?" She said, surprised. They mention it in: 'History of Magic', 'History of Magic'... The boy was then bored nearly all the books Celeste read. "Well anyway, a pure-blood witch wand carrier is someone who has full wizard heritage, however a magic-user with one or more non-majs in their family are considered half blood. Lastly, there is muggle-borns who have no magic heritage." She did not close the book nor show any sign that she was talking, she just continued reading. Celeste seemed to be extremely focused on that one page, examining an image.

"Is it John?" She asked slightly remembering the last conversations she had read through. "Are you thinking thats a lethifold? It's obviously not. If it was we would know, it has an aggressive nature, plus its classified XXXXX, the highest classification. No teachers would like that lying around." She gazed out the slightly warm window to a deep, star-filled night. "We're almost at the castle." She muttered, absently.
Word Count: 206 words

John listens to her explanation of what a pureblood is, then says, "Well, in my defense I only got these books yesterday. The only one I've fully read through is Fantastic Beasts," he holds up the book, which has many dogeared pages and bookmarks sticking out of it, and is open to the page about lethifolds. "And just because my mum was a bloody wizard doesn't mean that I know all about being a wizard. All I know is there is a magic school and I get to go to it." H breathes deeply, then continues. "Also, why were you saying it like it was a bad thing? that is a bit discriminative, if you ask me. Get to know people before you make judgement calls about them. People are people, no matter what." He stops, then realizes something. "And how did you know I was thinking about Lethifolds? I don't think I spoke about it aloud, though I may very well have done that. And yes, my name is John. John Mickens." He looks at her mildly confused, and interested. he pulls out an acid pop and puts it in his mouth slowly, so as to not bother the other people in the compartment too badly.

"Well, John Mickens, I saw the chapter you were reading since I've read through fantastic beasts multiple times, back to back, I think I know the chapters perfectly. Also, I saw you staring at it. " Celeste explained sarcastically. She rubbed her baggy eyes and sighed, "John, you're so predictable." She smiled matter of factly and opened back up to the last page of 'Hogwarts a History.' But she was curious, what happened to his mother? "Sorry if I'm being too intrusive, but who's your mother?" She asked awaiting a response.

"I wonder when Baid will come back, I already see the castle!" The train was late but that did not bother the students. Realistically, sorting can happen at any time. Celeste gazed at the mystical castle, and its many towers. She started pondering the deep questions with: Do the four founders really know all of the palace? How many rooms did the teachers really know of.

The castle neared closer, and Celeste readily grabbed her royal blue suitcase. Stickers were placed across its surface, yet it still look extremely neat. Celeste's family seemed so far away, and she was reminded of all the regret. Why didn't I say goodbye to dad? she thought sadly opening the cabinet.

Gossip and groans travelled through the hallway, the so call gamekeeper had not expected the arrival. "Oh no.." She muttered as the murmurs of the delay travelled into the compartment.
Word count: 212 words

John looks surprised, then laughs. "Guess I am predictable. I didn't think that I was so easy to read." He shrugs, and puts his book away, taking great care not to damage the book in any way. then Celeste says, "Sorry if I'm being too intrusive, but who's your mother?" John looks up and says, "My mom is Lillian Bright. And if you are confused with the name differences, it's because my mom and dad divorced. They still meet up every holiday season for me though, so my family is still mostly stable!" John puts away the rest of his stuff and pulls the acid pop out of his mouth, the pop smoking slightly. "Now, a little bit about yourself. Are you muggle born? Pureblood? or somewhere in between like me?" he puts the acid pop back in his mouth and goes back to packing, then grabs his school robes and heading to a changing room.

He comes back from the changing room to hear people complaining about how the Gamekeeper had not arrived yet. He looks over at Celeste and says, "Gamekeepers late. there's a bit of a delay." Celeste mutters, "Oh no..", and John replies with, "Well, if we're waiting here, why don't we talk for a bit?"

She looked up to hear his quiet words; "Well,, if we're waiting here, why don't we talk for a bit?" She rolled her eyes and stared at John. "Why would I talk to you?" She asked, wrapping the tie around her bony neck. She began to fiddle with her bookmarks.

"I expect Youssuf will be back in a few minutes." She said, almost missing him. She did not know what to do, he was the only energy in the compartment. She knew John was trying, but he was extremely different, he didn't promise anything. Celeste still didn't trust any of the boys, for strange reasons. She often felt like this cautious of people, afraid of interaction.

Celeste looked at the strange sweater near them with disgust, who would take such a thing on a train ride? The mangled polyester ruffled in places unknown and moved slight with every touch. she continued to admire the strange piece of clothing examining every corner as though it was a crime scene. She kept admiring the shape wondering what the small creature could be; or if it were a creature at all. "Is that a pigmy puff?" She asked curiously. "I have read a lot about them."
Word Count: 207 words

Suddenly the compartment door slid open. An exhausted Youssuf Baid stumbled inside and sat on Serafino's scarf (again). He had a sneaking suspicion that it was enchanted to get under the arse of the nearest person available. "You would not believe how touchy some people are. I had to search for Chess all over the train, and I need a bit of pep." He revived his wit with a couple swigs of Butterbeer and looked around curiously. They were at Hogwarts station, but the Groundskeeper appeared to be late and the boats weren't there too.. He'd changed while on the way back into the compartment and he was still struggling with his robes, trying to get something sticky out of his pocket. It was a Chocolate Frog, still squirming weakly. Youssuf bit the head off it and listened to the conversation.
It was pretty damn lackluster. The shy boy was rebuffed by Cyanide Girl (he knew her name was Celeste, but he felt Cyanide Girl was a better nickname) when he tried to talk to her. "That ain't no Pygmy Puff, they're expensive. Let's see..." He slid his hand into the sweater's pocket and drew out...a tiny, shivering owl!
He stared at it for a second and then warmed it with his hands. When it'd had enough of the warmth, it struggled against Youssuf and he let it go with a wistful look. "Probably it belongs to someone else." On cue, the tiny owl flew out the window and in the direction of the newly arrived boats.
Youssuf stood and proffered his arm to Celeste with a smirk, "Shall we, my lady Cyanide?"
He grinned at Bancroft and the shy boy.

The girl shook her head at Youssuf, staring at the small owl. "Aw how cute", She joked sarcastically. "Shall we, my lady Cyanide?" Youssuf asked with a grin. "Oh shut up!" She yelled, rolling her eyes. She looked at the other boys in as a loud voice boomed, "First years! First years!" Celeste looked out the compartment to see where it came from. A person towered over the hallway of compartments. The bustling song of talk stopped, and children poured out of the compartments.

"Youssuf come on!" She yelled, thrusting her bag onto the floor. Soon, all the first years were out of their compartments and the song of talk continued. Murmurs of sorting, quidditch and lessons filled the halls.

Celeste started trembling with anxiety. What if everyone splits up? What if I'm a muggle? What if I fail every class? She let out a sigh and looked at Youssuf. She was scared. At muggle school, Celeste was treated like vermin. Why did she expect anything different at this school. She began frantically looked across the hall looking at each person, but looking away as soon as they noticed. She saw the group she noticed before the train started. Somehow, the were also scared.
Word Count: 206 words

Youssuf heard the loud voice of the Gamekeeper, and looked out. Children were pouring out of the train like rats off a drowning ship. He pulled his trunk off the rack and narrowly missed the shy boy's head as he held it. He heard Celeste shout at him to come on and Youssuf headed out of the compartment, the other boys no doubt behind him. The group ahead of him were talking about the houses they would be sorted into, and he distinctly heard a tall, pale boy say, "I'll kill myself if I'm in Hufflepuff, I think! The house of the loyal!"
Youssuf frowned angrily at his back and thought that the boy would no doubt be in Slytherin.
Before he knew it, he and Celeste were outside. She was looking at him, clearly wracked with anxiety about Hogwarts. He told her gently, "Don't worry, Celeste. You'll do just as well as anyone else. You know, with your...sharpness...I think you'll be in Ravenclaw. Chill. C'mon, you wanna sit in the same boat?"
He joked, "No need to take life too seriously; no one makes it out anyway!" He wasn't worried. Hard work and perseverance would do wonders for him.

Shy, perhaps but not entirely. The conversation seemed to run away from him, when he noticed Youssuf run out of the compartment, something to do with a book he stopped paying attention (checking the thread). There was too much posturing, the collision of lonesome egos that did not need a boost from him. He would leave the girl to her devices and the other fellow also. There was a brief discussion regarding purebloods but the topic would not last, it felt more like a someone was regurgitating facts from a book than actually explaining.

"I am a pureblood," Bancroft claimed. "All it means is that all of the members of my family tree are also wizards, hence pure wizards." A rather simple explanation, it failed to truly explain the failings and successes of the varied lines. "Often purebloods prefer to stick with their own, for a number of reasons really. Like often attracts like, our shared experiences, knowledge and even interests often deviate from that of muggles or those of mixed heritage. It makes... interactions awkward, decorum for example being something that many pureblood families value. We would find the shrieking of a young girl," not to name any names in this compartment "to be dreadfully offensive. So coexistence and comingling with those that either already are or circumspect of such notions... is unlikely. It results in a homogenous population, perpetuated often by ungracious, belligerent and perhaps even opprobrious behavior of those that see us as different." Again, not naming any names.

"In any case Johnathan Mickens of the Bright line," the wizard blood having relevance as the thing that they shared was the fact that they were in fact both wizards. "Bancroft Serafino, a particularly long line of wizards hailing primarily from Greece, in my opinion the birthplace of magic." He would stand up, extending his right and turning his left arm behind him so that it might rest along the base of his back as he introduced himself perhaps too formally. "In places like this, I would not trust anyone. Most especially yourself."

Youssuf was breaking away from the cabin, apparently they had arrived. "This way I suppose," in truth it was his first time also. He knew how to follow a crowd, how to assess the situation but he also knew that he did not have to deal with such matters alone.

Follows Youssef and company off the train, effectively leaving the topic.

John sits in the compartment as everything happens around him. completely confused and upset as to why the girl didn't want to talk to him. Had he done something wrong? Did she not like him? His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a booming voice calling out for the first years, causing him to jump in fright and hit his head on the luggage rack above him, causing him to cry out in pain and surprise. while he rubbed the back of his head from the pain, his luggage fell onto his foot, and he howled in pain as people laughed at him.

Recovering from the incident, John hears Bancroft say, "In any case Johnathan Mickens of the Bright line, Bancroft Serafino, a particularly long line of wizards hailing primarily from Greece, in my opinion the birthplace of magic." John reaches out to shake his hand, nods, and says, "Nice to meet you." Bancroft the adds on another sentence. "In places like this, I would not rust anyone. Most especially yourself." John looks at him like he is crazy for a second, before hurriedly throwing on his school uniform, ignoring the tie as he can't tie one anyways, and running off the train, heading towards the boats on the water.