Early Bird Gets the.. Empty Compartment Closed

Beck joined his older brother on the train after having a heartfelt moment with his father. His words lingered in his mind, "This is it, Kiddo." This was it - and that started to scare him. He had never seen his father in such an emotional state before, and that made Beck more shaken up than he had been prior to their engagement together.

"Come on, Beck! Do you want to sit in my compartment with me?" Beck's brother invited, "I know you don't really have any friends here yet, and my buddies wouldn't mind." The thought of sitting in a compartment full of loud, excited 5th years started to worry Beck - the shivers crept down his spine as he imagined it. Maybe Hogwarts could be an opportunity to make some new friends, since he'd always struggled to keep people on his side.
"N.. No thanks, Nikky. I think I'll just find another compartment, see if I can meet anyone interesting." He flashed a smile at his brother who told him to, "stay out of trouble," and went on his way down the train.

A lot of the compartments were filled with students at this point, he clutched tighter onto his big grey trunk with both hands while his eyes foraged for a place to settle on his journey. He found a rather empty-looking compartment with a brunette boy and two girls, one who looked to be slightly older than them. This doesn't look too bad, Beck thought to himself as he listened to the other students talking about what was presumably their siblings. He waited for them to finish the conversation. He was excited to join, but he didn't want to make a bad first impression.

When the time came for him to finally speak, he started to feel uncomfortable - these students seemed to know each other, and Beck felt as though he was barging in. He hesitated, "Hey.. I'm sorry to interrupt or disturb you guys, but could I please come and sit with you? I'll be ever so quiet." Beck made eye contact with all three of the other students, due to not knowing who the "leader" was. He was very sure of himself, and due to the way he was raised and the way he turned out, there always had to be a "leader" in the group of people he was with, because that was what made him feel secure in the situation.

Lara nodded in response to Arthur’s question about her parents. “Yeah, kind of. My dad was in Ravenclaw, and so were his parents and his siblings, but my mum went to Beauxbatons, so…” She trailed off, settling to end the statement with a vague shrug, and then she looked back and forth between Emma and Arthur. “What about you guys? Did your parents go to Hogwarts, too?”

Should she have asked that? What if one of them was Muggleborn, or a half-blood, and they didn’t want everybody to know? Or, even worse, what if one of them was a half-blood and the other one was one of those weird pureblood-elitist types, like her grandparents? She didn’t want to make anybody uncomfortable. She was trying to be friendly, not nosy, but she really wasn’t all that good at it.

She focussed on Emma instead of her own concerns, excited about the prospect of hearing more about the whole Sorting process. She knew plenty about it - with five siblings and twelve cousins who’d already gone through the experience, she’d grown familiar with the tale of the magic hat. But she’d still like to hear it from Emma’s perspective. You could never have too much knowledge.

Arthur’s siblings were from Germany? Lara bit back the urge to ask him outright why he, too, wasn’t German - or why he wasn’t going to Durmstang with his siblings. Had something happened? Were they not close? Lara couldn’t imagine not being close with her brothers and sister. They were family. To her, that was as close as it could get. Plus, a major reason she was so excited to finally go to Hogwarts at all was because it meant she’d finally get to join her siblings at the castle they’d told her so much about. Without them… She didn’t know who she’d be.

Instead of anything like that, she said, “So it’s true, then? Like, the school’s location is a super huge secret? I heard that even if they let you visit your kid there, they wipe your brain after so you can’t remember where you were or what the place looked like.. My sister told me that sometimes they’ll zap memories that aren’t even about the school by mistake, too, and then you get stuck with no idea who your wife is or where you live or what your parents’ names are.”

Was this true? It probably wasn’t. She hoped not, at least. Madeleine was always saying things like that, and she tended to over-exaggerate a little bit.

Lara turned, hearing a new voice float cautiously into their little compartment, asking permission to come in. Standing by the entrance was a young boy, probably a first year like her and Arthur, his hands holding tightly to his trunk. He seemed a bit nervous, but he still made eye contact with her and the others, so he’d probably be okay.

“Sure!” she told him. beckoning him into the compartment with one hand. “Come on in. D’you need help with your bag?”

If these two were really to become sorted into Ravenclaw, there was absolutely no objection whatsoever. Everyone had a preference of their house, well, except for Authur. It only made sense that Lara had been sorted into the house of wits, her father had also been in Ravenclaw, but she had learned in her first year those genes meant nothing. 

She remembered her first train ride, the discussing of their houses. It wasn't that long ago, or so it would seem. No one ever got her house right despite the one-fourth chance that narrowly slimmed as your mind started to develop.

"So how does it work? Um, the Sorting Hat, I mean"

"Well..." She said time collecting her thoughts before speaking. "Think of it as an old, brown, wrinkly wizards hat, except this one reads your thoughts. And memories. And emotions. Its a giant mind reading hat basically. Oh and its tremendously loud..."

Recalling her ceremony, she let out a dramatic shiver, it was scary just to think about it more or less experience it for a second time. Thankfully she'd be the one watching the two get sorted into Ravenclaw. Her lungs would have given out due to her passionate screaming.

"Oh! And I'm a Half-Blood. My dad was sorted into Gryffindor and my mum's a Muggle," she said rather joyfully. She considered herself lucky. She got both sides of the Wizarding world and the Muggle world. 

Emma's head turned in the glance of Lara's, apparently looking at something (or one). There in the compartment window stood another first year, she mentally beamed. Another person to talk to, and better, the girl to boy ratio had been evened. 

Likewise, she spoke after Lara. "Definitely, we could use another person or so." She had been plainly honesty. She didn't want Arthur to feel bombarded by females.

Beck grinned with the positive response he had received from two of the other students - it had been a long time since he truly felt accepted into a group, and maybe this is the start of his new life. He turned his back to face the other so he could yank his heavy trunk into the compartment, before swiftly turning back around to face them, "Thank you, I appreciate it, lest I'd have to sit with my brother and all his friends." He shuddered at the thought.

"D’you need help with your bag?”

He felt a little embarrassed to be accepting the offer, as if he should be able to do it himself. But his trunk was heavy, he barely even knew what was in it - his father called it the "Beginners Hogwarts Experience" and he gave it to all his other siblings before him, so Beck just assumed that what was in it, was extremely important.
"If you wouldn't mind helping me, that would be really great, but it's fine if not."

He sparked an interest in the conversation, watching one of the girls as she explained herself and her parents. Beck got a little more excited than he probably should have, "Your dad was in Gryffindor and your mum's a Muggle? No way, me too! Well, mine too."

Arthur shook his head at Lara's question, though he didn't mind her along. "Oh, no, my mum's not magical. And my dad, um... I don't know. I guess he probably went to Durmstrang too." He shrugged, unsure himself. That would make the most sense, since all his other children went there too. "Beauxbaton? That's the French school, right?" he asked her, curiously. He was pretty sure his siblings' mother went there too, though he'd never met the woman. He got the impression she didn't much care for him, though he couldn't really blame her for that. "That's cool. Did she talk about it much?" he wondered. He wouldn't mind hearing more about it, if Lara was willing to oblige. Of the three magic school he knew, the 'Académie de Magie' was the one he knew the least about.

"I don't know if they wipe your brains or anything, but they sure do keep it pretty secret!" Honestly, the whole messing with people's memories thing kind of freaked him out already, so he really hoped not. The fact that the magical world systematical erased people's minds without their consent was the kind of thing he just had to not think about too long, or it would really start to bother him. "I'm not sure my siblings even know where it is, really." Even if they took a train their each year, it's not like they could track its exact route. The most he could get out of any of them about it was 'somewhere in the mountains'. "They say it's really pretty there though." He smiled, remembering the way his brother and sister had described it. "It's too bad... I'd love to go flying there some day."

Listening to Emma's description of the Sorting Hat didn't do much to put Arthur's mind at ease. "Think of it as an old, brown, wrinkly wizards hat, except this one reads your thoughts. And memories. And emotions. Its a giant mind reading hat basically. Oh and its tremendously loud..." That girl he met in Diagon Alley had also implied that the experience would be unpleasant. He'd assumed she was just exaggerating to try and scare him, but maybe there was something to it after all. "Ugh.. I don't like the idea of anyone rummaging around in my head," he admitted, nervously. But he supposed it would only be for a moment, and he would only have to do it once at least.

As they were talking, another person had appeared in the doorway. A boy who looked about their age as well. By his nervous demeanor, Arthur would guess that he was a first year too. "Sure, of course you can," Arthur replied. "You don't need to be quiet." In fact, he rather hoped he would join in their conversation. He would offer to help with his things, but Lara seemed to have it covered, so he remained in his seat, waiting for the boy to finish putting away his bags and join them.

"That's cool," he said to both Beck and Emma. "What do your parents do?" he asked, both to them and Lara. He was curious about magical professions, but he was also happy to get to talk about muggle things too, and that there might be more common ground between them all than he'd originally feared.

Lara helped the new boy stash his trunk. It was definitely a fair bit heavier than hers, which surprised her, but then again, she’d packed rather sparingly. She’d only really brought the absolute necessities, figuring that if anything came up, her father could always mail her what she needed. After all, Lara really only had two important possessions: her mother’s necklace, which glinted green around her neck, and her broom, which had been handed down to her from her brother, and which she hadn’t been allowed to bring.

“Yeah, Beauxbaton’s the French school,” she told Arthur, nodding. “My mum and her family lived in France. She really wanted me and my siblings to go there instead of to Hogwarts, but my grandparents wouldn’t let it happen.” She tilted her head, thinking about what she knew. Her mother had spoken fondly, and often, of her school - but it had been four years, now, and Lara couldn’t remember nearly all of it.

“She said it was stunning. Way fancier than Hogwarts in the Palace, and with super pretty grounds and stuff, too. They have big, elegant horse-drawn carriages and stuff, and the Headmistress is like, a giant or something. Plus, they have a nicer uniform than us. Their robes are made of silk.”

She realized, after she’d spoken, that she’d completely forgotten to introduce herself to the green-eyed boy. Her cheeks flushed. She held out her hand toward him to shake, hoping he didn’t already think her rude.

“I’m Lara, by the way,” she said. “Lara Youngblood. What’s your name?”

Hearing Emma describe the Sorting Hat made Lara… Uneasy? Nervous? She wasn’t sure. Nobody had ever told her that the Hat was old or wrinkly, or made it sound so… Invasive. Suddenly, she wasn’t looking forward to their arrival quite as much.

“Is it really that bad?” she asked Emma, only a hint of anxiety colouring her words. Did it really matter, though? Even if it was terrible, it would only last a minute or two, and then she’d never have to endure it again. It was like getting her ears pierced. It had been a sharp pinch, even though Madeleine had claimed that she ‘wouldn’t feel a thing’, and then it had stung for a few minutes before fading into an unpleasant memory. And then her dad had yelled at Madeleine for doing it without permission, which had been equal parts funny and upsetting.

“My dad works at Gringotts,” Lara answered Arthur. “My oldest brother’s a crisis Healer, and my second-oldest brother is a journalist.”

The three were bound to be friends, they already had something in common. Blood status, house preference, and their punctual behavior, but she couldn't promise if be all the time. This time she had gotten lucky to have met a few friendly people aboard the train.

Beauxbaton. She adjusted her seating position. That name rung a bell. She had never intended to attend Hogwarts, the school known for its outlandish events. She didn't mind wearing those blue silk robes, but still, it made her wonder how life would be at Hogwarts. Were the students so cultured that they had exactly no enemies? There was no denying she still wanted to catch a glimpse at the school. Still, they didn't need to know that, in fact, no one needed to know that at Hogwarts.

Switching the subject to the task of their parents she relaxed. Slightly. "My dad studies dragons around the continent, and my mom is a general manager." She was still unsure as to what the difference was between a manager and a general manger, it'd have to wait till the summer. There was no book about the jobs of Muggles, well, at least she thought.

Emma then turned her head to Lara, and honestly she had a problem with sugar coating the actual truth. What if the three got to the ceremony and it was much worse (or better) than she had told them? "Best advice I can give you: Don't speak out loud, try to control your heart beat, and don't look at the four tables. Just pretend its a normal hat and you're alone." Was there anything she had left out? She paused for a minute, seeing that she had the floor. "I guess all I can tell you is that your heart is going to rush and just hope you aren't first." She smiled, thankful she didn't have to sorry once more.

"Wow. Interesting," he said, genuinely curious to hear Lara's description of the French wizarding school. Hearing his siblings describe Durmstrang, it sounded so different from what he'd heard of Hogwarts so far. It was interesting how greatly they varied from place to place. At first he'd wondered if a singular 'magic culture' would supercede country identity, but it seemed not. That's good, he thought. It meant that the were parts of your identity that you could share outside of whether or not you were born in the magical world.

He lifted a hand to the boy who had come in late, now that his bag was stowed, and waved. "I'm Arthur. Morgan," he added, to Lara's introduction. "We were just talking about the school houses and the sorting ceremony. Do you have any preference of where you end up?" he said, to give a little context.

Shifting in his seat, Arthur perked up visibly and became more animated when Lara mentioned her brother was a trauma healer. He'd never heard that exact term before, but he could infer from context and assumed that it was something like the magical equivalent of either a trauma surgeon or a paramedic. "Oh! My mum's an ER nurse, so kind of similar!" he said. "Well, minus the magic of course."

Her father, she said, worked at Gringotts. That's the bank, right? He almost asked, but he realized he'd been asking a lot of obvious questions. Or at least, questions the three of them must think are obvious. In any case, was pretty sure it was the bank. "Cool. For what paper?" he asked about her brother instead. Not that he would be likely to know it, but he could always look it up later, and it works be cool to know so he could keep an eye out for any articles by him. "Wow, dragons? For real?" he asked, impressed. All this stuff sounded so made up. Like things children would say when they're playing pretend. It was so hard for him to believe that it was all real. At some point he should probably explain that despite his wizard father, he was raised predominantly by a muggle. But until then, he just hoped that he didn't come off as too clueless.

The rest of the car quieted as Emma began to describe again the Sorting Ceremony that they would all soon go through. "Best advice I can give you: Don't speak out loud, try to control your heart beat, and don't look at the four tables. Just pretend its a normal hat and you're alone."

Arthur mulled over the advice she'd given them for a moment. It sounded nerve wracking, but he was pretty sure he could handle all that. Just close your eyes, and pretend you're alone, he thought to himself. And just hope you aren't first, she'd said. He tilted his head curiously. "Do they do it alphabetically?" he wondered out loud, mostly to himself, though Emma would probably know the answer. He turned to the others and shrugged. "If so, I'm probably safe with Morgan." Youngblood for sure wouldn't be picked first, if that was the case, though she might be in trouble if they did reverse alphabetical for some reason. With a name that was comfortably in the middle, he would probably be safe either way. If they went alphabetically by first name though...

But however it was going to happen, there was nothing they could do about it now by worrying. So instead, he turned his attention back to the prior, somewhat lighter, subject. "Have you ever seen a dragon in person?" he asked. The question was directed at Emma, though it stood for anyone. "Do they look the same as they're described?"