They had spent the whole summer together. Mother and daughter. As if nothing was wrong, as if nothing had ever been wrong. They had both been thinking of the one they missed and the strange friend which had replaced him, called “pain”. But they hadn’t talked about either of them.

They had rented a cottage by the sea for a week. It was the first time in a very, very long time. Alicia had smiled when she saw her daughter running into the water, shouting for joy. Yet even smiling ached now, because she couldn’t help but see another landscape, superimposed. And another figure, going into the water. Another scene, from another time. When they didn’t use to disguise their sorrow as phoney laughs. There, instead of seeing her beautiful young daughter swimming, she saw her husband.

However, Violine had taken her role very seriously and she had done everything in her power to keep her mother away from her bad thoughts. And they had done loads of things: they had eaten candy floss at a night market, they had been to the theatre and they had done some shopping in Diagon Alley. They had also curled up under thin blankets late at night, surrounded by books.

In short, Violine had a great summer. And she had behaved. It was hard sometimes because she had taken the habit of getting up to mischiefs. But she didn’t want her mother to suffer even more than she already did.




And now, they were both on the 9^3/4 platform, standing awkwardly next to each other. Violine didn’t want to leave. So she kept her mouth shut because she felt that, otherwise, she would burst into tears. Alicia felt her daughter’s distress and she hugged her and whispered into her ear:

“You’ll be okay, I promise.”

But they both knew she had wanted to say “I’ll be okay”. And Violine didn’t trust her. Besides, how could any of them ever be okay?

Soon it was time for Violine to get on the train. She carried her suitcase inside and came back to kiss her mother one last time. She waved at her as the train was departing. The – unwelcome – tears started rolling on her cheeks but luckily she was already far away and her mother couldn’t have seen them.

Violine took a deep breath and realised she couldn’t. There was some sort of weight on her chest. She had never noticed it before. Or maybe it was just new. Either way, it was not a pleasant feeling. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve before anyone could see her cry. She wanted the others to think she was tough and that she could put up with any situation. Including being separated from her mother one more time. Just as her foster families were always thinking. Everyone was always so surprised that she never looked sad or that she never wept. “How brave she is!” they would say. She would smile, wondering quietly if it had ever occurred to them that she kept her tears for when she was alone. When she got under her blanket at nights.

Anyway, she had to focus. She carried her suitcase in search of an empty compartment, but as she couldn’t find one and that her arms were starting to ache, she settled for a random one. There were three older students inside. She said hello but she didn’t feel like talking. Luckily, the others didn’t pay much attention to her.

She was thinking of the Sorting Ceremony when a man with a trolley full of sweets knocked on the door of the compartment. She didn’t have a lot of money, and at first, she hadn’t intended to buy anything, but the others bought some chocolate frogs and that’s when she saw them. The Beans.
She suddenly remembered that once, when she was perhaps three or four, her father had brought her those weird little sweets. “Every flavour” it said on the package. She remembered they had laughed a lot when they had tried them. And that they were happy.

So she bought one box of "Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans".

The others gave her a strange look. She didn’t care. She opened the box and carefully took one bean. It was of a dark purple with green spots. She put it in her mouth and started chewing slowly, waiting for the memory to come back… *Ugh! What the…* The others were now staring at her. *Is that…* She tried to stay impassive. The last thing she wanted was to give them satisfaction. *I don’t know what this flavour is, and I don’t want to know, but that sure is something rotten.* She swallowed and took another one. And another one. And… she closed the box.

She couldn’t believe she had spent so much money on those horrendous sweets. And that she had eaten so many of them just now. How come she had liked them when she was with her dad? Maybe she had a problem with her tongue and nobody had guessed, but now she was okay. Or maybe she had just been lucky…

What was she going to do with the box? The others obviously knew about the sweets… She stood up and left the compartment. She had to find someone else she could give the sweets to. Preferably another first year, and luckily someone from the muggle world.

She started wandering in the corridor, glancing at the students inside various compartments. They were all laughing and talking… and older than her. She was ready to go back and explore the other end of the coach when she saw this skinny little boy sitting on his own. She didn’t have to think for a long time: she opened the door and sat on the opposite seat.

“Hello, my name is Clara.”

*Here you go again. It’s your first day, do you have to spit so big a lie? They’ll know you’re just a liar.*

“Are you new? I’m new. I can’t wait to be sorted! I wonder in which House I will be sent. Gryffindor, surely.”

She didn’t let time for the boy to slip a word and continued, showing him the box.

“By the way, I’ve just bought these, but this is way too much for me! Do you want some? Feel free to try them if you want to.”

She opened the box and put it on the small table in front of the window.

“Anyway, where do you come from? Oh, and what’s your name?”

She sat back and gave the boy her warmest smile. *Well, let’s see how convincing you are Violine.*

Apologies this took so long, life suddenly got incredibly hectic and next thing I knew so much time had passed.

The summer was eventful indeed for Thomas; after receiving his Hogwarts letter, and finding out that some of his friends had received them too, the months in Caerleon seemed to fly by with no sign of stopping. The triad was comprised of Sylvie O'Niell, Talulah Baines, and himself were a troublesome bunch, and now that they knew that they were wizards there was nonstop imagination and tomfoolery amongst the three. However, as his mother often remarked, it was probably a good thing that the lot of them were headed to Hogwarts together. The move was a big change from what they were collectively used to, and being able to stay in touch with some of their closest childhood companions would make the transition infinitely smoother. Thomas' Uncle, Donal Baines, impressed upon Thomas the fortune he had in knowing people before he even arrived.

As the three prepared for the wizarding world, Thomas' mother tried her best to support her son in every way she could. In that way, Thomas was different from the three; he grew up in an effectively Muggle household for as long as he could remember. He was thankful for his mother's attempts at educating herself (as much as she was able to learn, anyway), and promises to owl her son back whenever possible, but he still couldn't help but feel a bit different from his two friends. There was the excited anticipation that they all shared, but Thomas had a certain level of apprehension that no amount of reassurance was able to quench.




Which is why it sucked astronomically more when Thomas found himself separated from his friends at Platform 9¾. The two had eagerly rushed in at the encouragement of their parents, but Tommy found himself paralyzed with fear. He looked to his mother for reassurance, who seemed just as confused as he was, but she put on a brave face and patted the boy on the shoulder.

"Just go forward, Thomas. Like you saw Tally and Sylvie do. That's what your Uncle Donal said." There was an awkward pause as her face fell, Thomas already knew what she was going to say before she said it, "If your father were here he could walk you through it, so just pretend he is, okay?"

With a fresh determination in his heart, spurred from a desire to wipe the familiar, sad smile off of his mother's face, Thomas raced through the wall and found it intangible! Just as he was lead to believe. At least that didn't end up being a surprise.

After coming to the panicked conclusion that he had, in fact, lost his friends probably for good, the boy bitterly found an empty compartment and sat down. Tommy stared out the window, contemplating his future at the institution and the path that lied ahead. Sorting, houses, family lineage, honor? Honestly, he didn't understand it much, but he made do.

Thomas sat as still as possible, seemingly more mature than some of the other first-years who were excitedly chattering in compartments elsewhere. In truth, Tommy was just as antsy as his peers, possibly even more so due to his inherent fear of the unknown, but he'd grown more reserved and less overt with his emotions as he got older. The fact that he wasn't overwhelmed by boundless energy like most eleven-year-olds served to make his appearance even more diminutive; it made him appear smaller in stature than he already was.

Noting the new arrival in his compartment, the boy straightened up considerably. While he was fumbling to make an attempt at a greeting, the girl interjected before he could come up with something not totally idiotic to say.

“Hello, my name is Clara. Are you new? I’m new. I can’t wait to be sorted! I wonder in which House I will be sent. Gryffindor, surely.”

An unassuming enough name. Gryffindor was the house that his cousin was so excited about, and apparently the house that his father had been sorted into many years ago. At the mention of it he seemed to perk up, though as he opened his mouth to respond he was already cut off once again.

“By the way, I’ve just bought these, but this is way too much for me! Do you want some? Feel free to try them if you want to. Anyway, where do you come from? Oh, and what’s your name?”

Thomas took a breath, taking a moment to process the information put in front of him. Clara. Hopeful Gryffindor. Seemed to be kind enough; rather enthusiastic like his pals from home. She seemed to be guileless and without someone to sit with, much like how he was, which made him smile internally at the thought. Perhaps, despite having lost his friends already, he'd find new ones in transit. While typically he'd react in a situation like this with immense caution, his current affliction of loneliness made him more desperate than usual. So, rather than acting standoffish or at the very lead closed-off, Thomas decided to answer with honesty. After all, what was the harm? He decided to start from wherever seemed most appropriate, and just go down the list of inquiries Clara made.

"Oh, hello. My name's Thomas. I'm an incoming first year, to answer that question," he answered, voice soft with an easily discernible Welsh accent. He paused, inspecting the unfamiliar box of sweets momentarily, though not looking too hard at it. "I'll try some, thanks for the offer. I've not seen those before, honestly..." As the boy trailed off, he adjusted how he was seated in an attempt to get more comfortable. He'd been leaning against the wall and staring out the window, so now he was turned to face his new compartment companion for the time being. "Oh and I'm from Caerleon, Wales. Where are you from? I might have missed that when you introduced yourself, sorry."