ℙiercing anxiety steadily breached the surface of Patricia's meticulously constructed façade of cold detachment as she, with detailed precision, stepped through the Hogwarts version of Through the Looking-Glass, her delicate frame securely bracketed between her parents Sebastian and Pricilla; her slim hands trembling imperceptibly as she mentally clung to the figures on her right and left, finding bittersweet comfort in the solid familiarity of the lithe, woollen-trench-coat and cashmere scarf draped frames of her mother and father.

Patricia was determined to plough through her first year at Hogwarts with committed and continuous studying, avoiding any forms of distraction at all costs. She desperately wanted—no, needed—to achieve the highest possible grades: she had accomplished top grades when learning under her private tutors, and didn't intend on deviating from that trend. Although this was the way she wished things to go, Patricia knew it would be near impossible because, you know, she wasn't going to be the only student in class. There was bound to be at least one or two students who'd intentionally or unintentionally begin to prevent her from concentrating.

Sighing, Patricia banished those thoughts from her mind before she could brood any deeper. She should be thankful that she was even attending this school—I mean, she definitely was - is grateful (she couldn't deny that however hard she tried)—but it was a little hard to process that she'd need to socialise a lot more than she was generally comfortable with.

She shrugged internally. It was probably a good thing that she'd be pushed out of her comfort zone.

I don't think I've ever felt this chilly at the very beginning of Autumn...

She noted absently, gently tugging the soft fabrics of her trench coat tighter around herself, fiddling with the small tassels that adorned the ends of her cosy scarf whilst her hands maintained that barely perceptible tremor.

Maybe it's just the nerves messing with my senses.

"Patricia?"

Patricia startled as the sound of her mother's light voice, realising at the same time that each of her gloved hands where engulfed by similarly adorned ones: right hand in her father's and left hand in her mother's. After observing this for a split second—waves of warmth threatening to overwhelm her—Patricia lifted her eyes to meet the somewhat heavy gazes of her parents.

For a moment, the three of them just stood there, letting the silence speak words that could not be spoken. Emotions were running wild in their usually stoic minds; time and sound slowed to a halt as the family simply looked at one another, reading thoughts and feelings off each other's faces—subtle changes that would go unnoticed by anyone outside their circle.

Patricia strengthened the grip she had on her parents' hands.

"Well," Sebastian murmured, breaking the almost captivating quietness, kicking the world and their brains back into action "I suppose you should be going"—his gold-flecked hazel eyes flitted down to the face of his silver watch—"the Hogwarts Express is due to leave in approximately ten minutes."

Glancing down at her own watch, Patricia knew he was right.

Patricia sighed, relinquishing her tight clasp and allowing her arms to fall to her sides, her emotionless mask crumbling into a pinched, worried expression.

A small, knowing smile dawned on her father's face, a look simultaneously reflected by her mother.
With a soft chuckle, Pricilla gathered Patricia up in a loving embrace, chestnut hair falling around her face and hiding her expression.

"We're going to miss you." She whispered, shifting slightly as Sebastian extended his long, strong arms around mother and daughter "You won't forget to write to us once you reach Hogwarts?"

"I'll remember," Patricia reassured, forcing a teasing grin as she added: "but only after I've had at least three consecutive hours of sleep!"

Humming in amused understanding her parents finally let go, taking a reluctant step back. Patricia smiled with a timid wave, pointedly ignoring the mild ache in her chest as she turned and strode faux-confidently towards the sleek black and scarlet train.

One foot on the train and the other still on the ground, the young girl suddenly felt an urge to look back.

She almost laughed.

I'm really going to miss them.

Her parents stood at the same spot she'd left them, waving energetically despite the obvious traces of worry in their postures. Her mother had laid her head on her father's shoulder, grasping her husband's hand as she waved with her free one.

With a final smile and wave, Patricia turned and boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Patricia was not enjoying this.

Her parents now absent, the presence of non-stop chatter and various other noises became altogether apparent. Magnificent.
Exhaling in acceptance, Patricia straightened her posture and tucked any stray hairs behind her ears, masking her evident uneasiness under a cleverly constructed guise of frosty indifference. Pointedly ignoring the grating sounds around her, she tread quietly down the narrow path nestled between cabin-like structures, searching for an either empty or almost empty compartment.

After about three minutes of hopeless inspection, she ended up towards the middle of a carriage, readying herself to enter a compartment where one person sat. Sighing deeply for the umpteenth time, Patricia raised her hand and knocked faintly on the doorframe.

"Is it alright for me to settle here for the journey?"

Ophelia had boarded the train. She couldn't believe it, but she'd done it. The train had also begun moving. And her family was long gone, back at the platform, probably still waving at the windows, hoping that she could see them, oblivious to the fact that she'd boarded near the middle and wasn't close to any of the windows.

I'm going to miss them. Though she'd already concluded upon the fact that she would be alone, thinking about it more made her stomach churn. Every moment Ophelia spent standing here, she was moving farther and farther away from where she longed to be, in her home, with her family.

In the Hogwarts Express, she was nothing but an outsider. Yes, these were magical people, like her, but they would never know Ophelia as intimately as her parents and her little brother did. They would never appreciate her timid, organized ways.

She stood there, contemplating her position for a few more moments before she realized that she'd better find someplace to sit. According to her mother, the journey was going to be a long one and she didn't want all the good spots to get taken. While she didn't want to sit in one of the full compartments where all the older students who knew each other sat, she didn't want to seem alone in an empty one either. Her perfect medium would be a compartment which held two to five other students, preferably around her age.

Walking along the narrow pathway the led from compartment to train car to compartment, Ophelia peeked into the windows, on the lookout for her imagined spot. The one she'd just passed had a group of boys, all of them laughing and talking to each other as if they'd known each other for years though they seemed about her age.

Keep going. You'll find someplace eventually. Ophelia hit on the perfect place two compartments down the line. A girl stood outside the door. "Is it alright for me to settle here for the journey?" She asked in a soft tone.

Ophelia walked up to her with a shy smile. Through the window, she spied a single girl sitting down. Believing it to be the best place that she could find, she added, "May I as well?"

@Astra Leaughton @Patricia Holmes

Reducio

Current attire:

♡ 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 | @Ophelia Northwell, @Astra Leaughton ♡

ℙatricia's rationality wavered a little as her question was not answered immediately after it was voiced. She instinctively began viewing her situation from every possible angle, considering multiple questions and answers all in one beat: had she offended the girl? Not likely. Had her appearance been too abrupt, resulting in confusion and anxiety? The probability of that was higher. Oh, maybe—

Stop. Be patient. She probably needs a few moments to think of an answer she thought, forcing herself to relax because this was a far from pleasant experience but she was obligated as a fellow human being to be considerate of her peer's most probable headspace: the girl, like Patricia herself, was clearly a first year; from this tad of information it could be assumed that she—like Patricia—was nervous.
But that was simply speculation—she could be the very opposite of what Patricia supposed. She knew it wasn't exactly her place to judge and determine what others were feeling, but she still needed to be careful. She didn't want to start off on the wrong foot.

Why am I so paranoid?

There was no where else to go if she was refused, not really. Everywhere else appeared to be full to the brim.

Patricia flinched as she was wrenched from her contemplation by the ringing of inquisitive footsteps in her unexpecting ears. Without turning her head, she instantaneously realised with a sinking heart that they were headed in her direction. Schooling her expression and curving her mouth slightly upwards, she turned just as the new arrival stopped beside her.

Trying to overlook her deteriorating social battery, Patricia blinked amiably and let her glassy hazel eyes fill with genuine warmth, calmly meeting the icy azure ones of the newcomer.
Quickly recognising the shyness in the other girl's smile, she let her own grow a little, hoping it provided the encouragement the student may or may not need.

Patricia vaguely pondered starting a conversation, but opted to let the silence hang between them. It would be easier that way, with the added bonus of her "social battery" lasting a little longer.

Besides, from what she'd observed so far about this girl, she concluded that they were both like-minded in some way...introverts, to be exact.

She listened for the question she half-expected to come.

"May I as well?"

Astra sat for some time alone, looking through the window. There wasn't much else to do, waiting for the train to start off, anyway. Other than thinking, of course. And possibly reading through the books again. The teacher told her, that other kids usually got to knew their new friends on here, but was it actually in her scope anyway? If she herself couldn't even go anywhere but to the empty compartment, possibly sitting there by herself for the entire time of travel? Maybe she should...

But all of that train of thought was stopped, when suddenly someone asked "Is it alright for me to settle here for the journey?" Astra shuddered in surprise and slowly turned her head around. The source of the voice belonged to a first year, like her, judging from the similar height. The stranger looked pretty pale, especially against the background of pretty dark hair.

It was certainly appriopriate to answer... but how? Astra felt little anxious. Of course, it was a realisation of her desires, but she was worried, that the stranger would just simply go away, if replied to in a wrong way. They were really formal, so simple yes was out of options. What about - It would be pleasure, if you assisted me? That sounded even worse, as if she was taken straight from XIX century. This didn't seem to be going well... And the other side didn't seem to be pleased, looking in a weird way? Probably thinking there is something wrong with her. Of course there is. It always was.

But then, even stranger thing happened, just when Astra was about to answer. Another person came as well and asked "May I as well". This was getting out of hands. Not only one, but two? This could easily turn into disaster! Quick, think quickly...

"Y-yeah, s-sure, make yourself at home."

At home? At home in a train? She couldn't believe she said something this stupid. It was too late anyway. Those two surely must know by now that I'm so bad at talking. This is where it struck Astra. If they know anyway, there is nothing worse that can happen. Nothing worse that can happen. Nothing worse...

She took a deep breath and smiled widely. Probably awkwardly. Surely it must have looked awkward.

"I'm Astra. And you are?"

She looked straight into the eyes of the two of them. Quickly. Into the brown ones and into the blue ones. Here and there. Some book said, that people often look into eyes of others, when talking to others. It couldn't be wrong, could it?

@Patricia Holmes, @Ophelia Northwell

Reducio

Current attire:

italics = thoughts , "speech marks" = speech

♡ 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 | @Ophelia Northwell, @Astra Leaughton ♡

"Y-yeah, s-sure, make yourself at home."

ℙatricia blinked gratefully at the girl, appreciating her kindness despite herself—a complete stranger—occupying the other student's space. She felt as if she didn't really deserve such friendliness
As Patricia cautiously stepped into the sunlit compartment, her eyes flitted again to the first year who'd considerately accepted her request. The girl seemed to have retreated into herself, presumably embarrassed by what she'd just said. Patricia could almost physically feel the new person's anxiety.

Her stomach churned at the thought, a guilty look momentarily flashing across her features before she quickly covered it up. I've only disturbed her...I shouldn't have asked.

Hopefully no one had noticed her remorseful expression.

Besides, it was too late to take back her words.

"I'm Astra. And you are?"

Meeting Astra's brown eyes with her own hazel gaze, Patricia allowed herself to reveal a rare, authentic smile; one that reflected in her shiny, usually vacant eyes.

"I'm Patricia. Patricia Holmes." She murmured, stopping herself from biting her lip. It was an unfortunate habit she'd developed in response to mild agitation.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry for invading your personal space. I genuinely appreciate how generous you've been."

Disregarding the fresh ache within her, Patricia floated down to the velvety seating placed on either side of the room. Smile fading, she tilted her head back and sighed softly, resisting the urge to shut her heavy eyelids.

It was frustrating to her how easily she became psychologically exhausted, how just a little socialising nearly (never fully) cost her a mental shutdown on the worst days. Fortunately, her day so far hadn't been entirely painful—then again, it was still relatively early: maybe the worst things hadn't yet occurred.

She chuckled at her pathetic attempt at optimism. It was definitely not something that came naturally to her.

Patricia hadn't realised her lids were slowly falling until a dazzling burst of sunlight filled the compartment, causing her pupils to automatically dilate in an attempt to protect her eyes. Her head instinctively bolted upright; wavy chestnut locks bouncing a little at the sudden movement, flashing dimly in the bright light.

Ordinarily, Patricia would be quite happy to see this amount of sunshine—it was quite a rare thing in September (where she came from, anyway)—but today she just found it irritating.

After a second of brief blindness, she pressed two fingers to her forehead and shut her eyes, fighting an oncoming headache.

Ugh, this is not going well. I should not have got up at four o'clock this morning. Bad, bad decision. Wish I wasn't such a night owl. Just, why...

Wow, she'd made this whole situation more awkward than it already was in a space of approximately six seconds. How smart of her. She was definitely a genius. Amazing...truly awe-inspiring.

She was definitely not being sarcastic (she is).

Haha.

Self | Thoughts | "Others Speaking"

Ophelia waited for the girl inside to answer, looking at the person beside her while she waited. She had brown eyes and something about her face gave her the impression of anxiety and worry. She didn't bother to smile, though Ophelia didn't sense any hostile vibes coming from her.

"Y-yeah, s-sure, make yourself at home." The girl inside answered in an awkward stutter. Ophelia felt oddly happy. All three of them seemed to be quiet and introverted. So I'm not the only one. She felt a relief wash over her. Her parents were reserved people as well, though she was extreme.

Together, the brown haired girl and Ophelia walked into the train compartment, their eyes never meeting, never making eye contact. Without so much as a single glance at each other, they stationed themselves on opposite ends of the compartment, the girl who'd already been there somewhere in the middle.

They sat in silence for a moment, broken only by the breaths of Ophelia and her companions. They looked at each other warily, assessing one another, sizing each other up. Then, one of them spoke, startling her.

"I'm Astra. And you are?"

Her voice was soft and Ophelia believed that she'd intentionally done so. Astra. The name was different from the ones she was used to hearing, though she liked the sound of it. Astra.

Ophelia didn't answer, eyeing the other occupant of the train compartment. The girl looked back before responding in a voice softer than Astra's. She seemed more shy than Ophelia. "I'm Patricia. Patricia Holmes." She didn't look up when she spoke. "Thank you, and I'm sorry for invading your personal space. I genuinely appreciate how generous you've been."

Ophelia forced out a smile and winced at what she knew would be seen as a half-hearted attempt at a grin. She nodded her head briefly to both girls, though one- Patricia- seemed to be dozing off. "Ophelia Northwell. Are you both first years as well?"

The question seemed stupid, though the girls didn't laugh. Ophelia wrung her hands, waiting for a response from both of them with an anxious smile.

@Patricia Holmes & @Astra Leaughton

"Thank you, and I'm sorry for invading your personal space. I genuinely appreciate how generous you've been."

...Generous? So Patricia is saying people usually don't just agree to be sat with? Maybe she shouldn't have agreed so easily. Everyone is playing those weird mind games, when you have to constantly deny what you really want, but Astra just couldn't. It was all too complicated anyway and none of the other girls run anyway for now, so maybe that was some sort of good sign? All she could do, was just to smile little wider and go with the flow.

There was something in a way Patricia spoke, that reminded Astra of one of the professors her dad was friends with. Very old man, but also very intelligent. It felt like he was from the previous era, when everyone sounded so eloquent and cared about big words. In a way it was very unusual, but she just adored this for some reason.

"Ophelia Northwell. Are you both first years as well?"

Astra quickly looked at the other two girls. Something strange happened to Patricia, as she looked... little paler than a minute ago. Or maybe it was just because light shined at a different angle, now when she sat down. That is definitely it. On the other hand, Ophelia smiled a bit. She was smiling, so she couldn't be dissapointed, right? Or maybe she smiled, because it all looked funnily pathetic to her. Whatever is the case, there is certainly no going back from here. No way to run... What is the worst that can happen, right?

Yes, I-I am at least.

It was true. Unbelievable, but true. Astra didn't even think that magic exist last year and now she sat in a train to magical school. She couldn't help but giggle a bit.

But I have to be honest with you, I still sometimes wonder, if it isn't just a really long dream that I'll wake up from soon.

She pinched herself through her bright, pink sweater, as the train finally started to move away from the platform.

@Patricia Holmes and @Ophelia Northwell

❀::❁::❀::❁::❀

Reducio

Current attire:

italics = thoughts , "speech marks" = speech

♡ 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 | @Ophelia Northwell, @Astra Leaughton ♡

༺•❁•༻

"Ophelia Northwell. Are you both first years as well?"

𝕃ifting her head and letting her hands fall from where she had been rubbing her forehead, Patricia made eye contact with Ophelia, blinking once in a outwardly nonchalant manner. While she deliberated over how she should answer (plus trying to ignore her pounding head) Patricia perceived the way the raven-haired girl wrung her hands, instantly recognising the action as being a tell-tale indication of nervousness. Not wanting to make her acquaintance any more anxious, Patricia quickly decided to go with the simplest answer she could think of, no matter how much she felt she should say more. She did not like the idea of making her companions uncomfortable with her rather odd and probably overly extensive vocabulary.
But then again...

...maybe she already had.

"Yes." She said plainly, inserting reserved friendliness into her tone with a small nod.

Hopefully that single word was simultaneously enough and not too much.

Breaking her gaze away from Ophelia's, Patricia directed her attention to Astra, tilting her head inquisitively, eyes warm.

"Yes, I-I am at least."

Patricia nodded, listening attentively because that was one of the few things she was good at besides studying.

"But I have to be honest with you, I still sometimes wonder, if it isn't just a really long dream that I'll wake up from soon."

Interesting...why? Patricia wondered, many ideas racing through her brain all at once. 'A really long dream that I'll wake up from'? It sounded like she couldn't quite believe she was on this journey to Hogwarts, in this situation. Patricia wasn't exactly sure and she wasn't about to throw random accusations around, but she felt as if Astra's words implicitly referred to something else...something personal maybe? Something regarding her...previous beliefs...?

Patricia decided she wouldn't ask, despite her burning curiosity. It would be rude of her to dive into Astra's matters, especially since they had only met just a few minutes ago.
Patricia shrugged to herself. If Astra wanted to reveal anything personal, she would; if she didn't, that was completely fine with her.

It's none of my business. I should stop being so nosy.

Glancing at the two girls she was traveling with, Patricia had a feeling that their eventual acquaintance might quickly blossom into a close friendship. This chance encounter could only go one of two ways, after all: they'd either become friends and enjoy each other's company, or they'd grow to become the opposite—enemies.

Self | Thoughts | "Others Speaking"

Ophelia watched the faces of the two girls as she waited for an answer. For a moment, she wondered if she'd overstepped the carefully drawn border that separated the three of them, but then one of the girls- Patricia- answered her question, relieving her of her stress.

"Yes," She answered simply. Her tone sounded friendly but forced, as if she'd placed it there artificially.

They both stared at the girl who was yet to reply, Astra. She looked nervous, just like she had when they'd asked her to come in. Unlike Ophelia and Patricia, she didn't hide her emotions well, though it was understandable. The excitement and anxiety of the moment had hit Ophelia like a tidal wave moments after entering the bright red train.

Astra took a deep breath before speaking her mind. "Yes, I-I am at least." They waited for her to go on and Ophelia noticed that Patricia was nodding with keen interest. "But I have to be honest with you, I still sometimes wonder, if it isn't just a really long dream that I'll wake up from soon."

Ophelia's eyebrows skyrocketed. She'd believed that this entire secret magical society knew about each other and knew that they would end up on this train one day or another. That she was the only one who'd been left out of this well-kept secret. But maybe it wasn't that simple. Maybe others, like her, were kept in the dark, and others still had parents who didn't even know about it.

Patricia seemed to be surprised as well, but for different reasons. She didn't have the air of an excited person to see someone of their own background. Instead, she seemed more confused. As if she didn't understand Astra's reaction.

Maybe she doesn't. Maybe she's been as ignorant as me to others' lives. Maybe she's always believed that everyone who was magical knew about their magic. It probably wasn't true, but the thought made Ophelia feel better.

When her mother had first explained the entire magical society thing to her, she'd been surprised, excited, and then, extremely angry. She'd calmed down, but the thoughts still angered her sometimes. Why did she hide something so important from me? What was she trying to gain? But knowing the loving, gentle nature of her mother, she would never blame her for doing what she'd at the moment thought was right.

Ophelia shook herself back to the present. The moving train that she was in. The compartment she occupied with two others, both of whom were staring at her, probably wanting her to restart the conversation.

Why am I the only semi-extrovert? With a sigh, Ophelia thought of what else to ask these girls. They were first years like her, which meant they'd never been to Hogwarts before. Before she'd fully processed what was coming out of her mouth, she blurted out the questions that had been stuck inside her since she'd received her letter.

"Are you both excited for this or worried? What do you think the first thing we'll do is? Have you ever seen the school?" She took a deep breath and faced the girls with a sheepish grin. "Sorry, just curious. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Stop it. Stop it, Ophelia. This is not how to make friends. Don't be nosy. Be nice.

@Patricia Holmes & @Astra Leaughton