Placing what she hoped was an interested expression on her face, Hilda listened as the boy finished wrapping the redhead’s hands. At least he was doing something more interesting than the landscape outside and truthfully, Hilda was interested in the muggle sport. Well, in any sport really. Sure, boxing seemed more violent than some, but contact sports could get pretty rough. Take Quidditch for example, you could literally die by sliding off the back of your broom, a broken nose was nothing compared to that. She contemplated the redhead’s wrapped hands while the boy put the tape away in his bag. “..was the baggage compartment full? A'm sure we can get it put there?” The girl Bea was saying to her.

Hilda shrugged one shoulder and said, “It will be fine in the hall for now.” She didn’t want to have to squish them all in together with her trunk as well, that wouldn’t be fair. On the offer of candy, Hilda shook her head and softly replied, “No thank you, Bea.” She didn’t want to admit her stomach was already in knots, and the thought of food right then might cause her to be sick. Not that she had ever been sick in front of other people before, but one could never be too careful.

“Bea, here, were jest tellin' us about th' 'houses' at Hogwarts, and how they werenae real houses at all, but some sort o' internal organizin'. Ah hope . . . that Gryffindor might have room fer me, and are kind enow tae take me in.” Hilda smiled at him. He did seem nice and would surely love learning about the school. Before she could really ponder which house she was meant for, the boy had leant towards her. His pale eyes were on her as he confidingly told her they were nice, Bea and ‘Skraele’ (was that the redhead’s name?) and he would like to be her friend also. Hilda blinked; a bit taken back but the forwardness of him. Perhaps it was just his way to say what he thought, it was nice that he was so open about it, she supposed. But she still had no idea what to reply to that, so she just nodded her head.

Bea saved her by asking ‘Mike’, (and that must be the boys name) to show her how to box. The smaller girl’s giggle was constant, as though she found everything she had to say funny. Hilda liked that she had a sense of humour, but instead of relaxing her, every time she heard the ‘hehehe’s , she found her stomach tightening again. ‘They are nervous too Hilda, just try and talk to them..’ She encouraged herself.

Mike was now on his feet again, Hilda had pulled her legs up onto the seat in front of her and hugged her arms around them, watching intently as Mike jabbed for Bea. "Whaur ye from Hilda? Fit hoose do ye think ye'll be in?" Hilda swallowed and, chest heaving slightly, hoped her voice didn’t warble when she replied. “I'm from Essex, and I am happy for any house I suppose, whatever fits me best is fine with me.”

There... she’d said something… wasn’t so hard right?

"Nae, that's a lie. I do draw. I'm sorry I lied. I wasnae allowed to do drawin' at home. It was thrown away by m'classmates, and torn up by them. I . . . I was afraid ye'd do the same, but I shouldnae hae been. You both seem nicer than any others I remember. Please excuse me," he says, miserably...

He takes her hand gently in his, and starts to wrap the tape around the palm, and through the fingers, and around her wrists, until they're both wrapped.

He immediately, and without ceremony, drops Skraele's hand, and sits back down across from her.

“Ah.. my name is Hilda.” She said politely, and swiftly looked at the last student. A redhaired girl with bright green eyes and a face full of freckles. Hilda gave her a small smile too before quickly avoiding everyone’s gaze by looking out the window.

He gently unwraps Skraele's hands, rolling up the tapes and putting them away with a little relief that he hoped none of the others saw. They were barely a pound-and-a-half apiece, but he had no idea where or how he would get another set.

Hilda swallowed and, chest heaving slightly, hoped her voice didn’t warble when she replied. “I'm from Essex, and I am happy for any house I suppose, whatever fits me best is fine with me.”

And wantin' to see th' ruins. Do ye think that they had spells, the way we do? E'er since we saw th'movie about Julius Caesar, Ah wanted tae know if he was a wizard, like m'folks, and what sort o'wand he had, and so forth. Ah realize that, t'day, he wouldnae be allowed tae rule, if he was."

They were all so friendly. And all their questions seemed directed at her. Hilda swallowed a nervous lump in her throat and balled her still hidden hands into fists inside her bomber jacket. She could do this… though she wasn’t brave like her dad, she certainly knew she wouldn’t be hurt in this compartment with these nice people.

“Well .. ah .. the ruins of Colchester have muggle tours showing witch huntings, uh… I’m sure all the magic must be…” Her voice had gotten quieter as she spoke and so she raised it again. “It must be cleansed of all magic, curses broken and the like. If they allow muggles in there.” She recalled another tidbit her father had once told her and, she hoped with an interested expression, told them, “Apparently there are still dragon sightings there occasionally, which is just another lure for muggles to check out the place. They think its all a hoax, see?”

She wasn’t aware of the famous Julius Caesar coming to do battle there, and her lack of her own local knowledge made her feel foolish, but she agreed with Skraele and Bea. “I’m sure once we ... we get settled at Hogwarts we can look up if Caesar was a wizard, and who else from muggle history was .. as well.” As they spoke of the ruins, Bea was practicing the jabs Michael had shown her. She stopped now though and mentioned they should visit her farm in Ellon. Hilda had only left England to see Quidditch games with her father, in that you could say she was well travelled, but she only ever saw Quidditch Stadiums and had not done a lot of sight-seeing.

“What kind of .. of farm to do you have Bea?” She asked politely, hoping to direction the conversation away from herself a bit. In doing so she felt her fists unclench and she took a deep breath. Bea was doing another set of jabs and Hilda thought she looked pretty steady as she did so. Her feet were well planted at least and Hilda knew enough about throwing a punch to know you needed good balance.