( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖔 ) — all aboard the hogwarts express

The Hogwarts Express, which was a scarlet steam engine, puffed smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children on to the train. Among the great throng of people were Evangeline Rosier, Juliet Selwyn, Apollo Greengrass, Cassius Nott, and Pollux Yaxley, all with their respective families. The only one missing from the silver six was Sylvia Fawley, which definitely didn't go unnoticed by Pollux and Evangeline.

The Rosiers were a family of status and class, that much was obvious from their haughty cheekbones and cold demeanor. Opal Rosier stood alongside her husband, turning heads with the newest lace cloak from Madam Malkin's. The man himself wasn't all that different from his wife, an assortment of heavy, crest-embedded rings decorating each finger on each hand. Their only child, a daughter, was perhaps the most welcoming in terms of appearance, a delicate smile gracing her full lips, but even that did not soften the cloud of untouchable-ness which followed her around everywhere.

Juliet Selwyn and Apollo Greengrass stood on the edge of the platform, conversing in hushed whispers with the latter's family. His two younger sisters, Daphne and Astoria, stood obediently to the side yet stared wishfully at the rich, auburn locks flowing down their future sister-in-laws back.

Cassius Nott was with his father, younger brother, Theodore, and Pollux Yaxley. Evangeline assumed the darker-skinned boy had gotten into yet another row with his father, based on the brooding scowl present on his face. She had long tuned out of her father's monotonous droning, instead observing the families around her and pretending she didn't notice Cassius' longing glances in her direction.

There was a loud whistle, followed by guards walking along the train, slamming all the doors shut. Opal appeared quite peeved at the interruption, the usual when the world wasn't according to her.

''I must go, mother, father,'' Evangeline interrupted, trying to remember the carriage her trunk had been put on, ''Juliet will be waiting for me.''

''It appears so, yes,'' her father nodded, spotting the redhead girl peering out from one of the windows, ''we will write, but do not forget you are expected home for the Christmas holidays.''

''I will not,'' she promised, watching the steam billow from the train; it had started to move. She ran to the compartment door and Cassius threw it open, stepping back to let her climb aboard. The pair set down the corridor, the boy leading her to their designated compartment at the very end of the train.

''Evangeline,'' Juliet greeted at once, throwing her legs off of Apollo's lap and going to hug her friend, ''it's been weeks. You've heard the news, I trust?''

''How could I not? It's all mother has been talking about. Thanks to you, I assume I'm next in line in the marriage market.''

''And about time,'' Cassius interrupted, sitting down next to Pollux's slumped figure. He stared forlornly out the train window and up in the sky, watching the billowing clouds with a cigarette balancing between his lips. ''It's better to make a match sooner rather than later, although I doubt you will have troubles with finding a suitable match, Evangeline.''

''You speak as if you know of something I do not, Cassius,'' she laughed, getting comfortable in the velvet-lined bench.''

He didn't get the chance to confirm nor deny her suspicions, for Apollo joined the conversation, fiddling with the lace of Juliet's ankle socks as both her and Evangeline admired the glamorous rock on her ring finger. ''We all haven't spoken in due time. How did everyone's summer pass by?''

''We all know how grand mine was,'' Juliet fawned, sharing a kiss with her fiancé.

''Mine was the usual,'' Evangeline told, ''we spent a few weeks in the country now that the summer estate has been fully restored. Mother had me attend some etiquette classes and suddenly declared Latin and piano are not enough — she introduced additional Astronomy, far more advanced than what we learn at Hogwarts. Oh, one of our house-elves mysteriously disappeared, too.''

Cassius broke his blatant love-struck stare, clearing his throat like a man caught red-handed. ''Abysmal. Theodore has emerged from the chrysalis that is puberty, and talked my ear off about the girls in his year all summer, dawn till dusk. I could have gone my whole life not knowing that your sister uses lily shampoo, Apollo.''

''Daphne? Whatever does your brother see in her?''

''❛Honey-drenched locks and the cutest button nose❜, to quote him directly. Expect a betrothal proposition within a few years or so.''

''And you, Pollux?''

He didn't turn at the sound of his name, but it was clear that he had heard them. ''I fell in love,'' he stated simply, blowing a puff of smoke out through the crack in the window.

''Pollux Yaxley, in love?'' Evangeline gasped, fiddling with the diamond bracelets on her wrist, ''don't make me laugh.''

''It's true. But it also does not matter, for we will not be together anyway.''

''And why is that?''

''Call it a matter of the circumstances.''

''Quite dampening, Yaxley,'' Juliet grimaced, quickly recovering and turning to Evangeline with a curious expression, ''do you happen to have an idea where in Merlin's name Sylvia has disappeared?''

''Not the faintest,'' Evangeline murmured, watching the rain thicken as the train sped further north. Pollux averted his gaze now that the glass was a solid, shimmering grey, which gradually darkened until the lanterns flickered to life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, and no one dared to move a muscle.

''We must nearly be there,'' Apollo said, dumbfounded at the pitch black window. The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

''Fantastic,'' Cassius chuckled, ''Breakfast was another feeble attempt at pastries, I'm starving. Just imagine the feast . . . ''

''We can't be there yet,'' Evangeline frowned, checking the pocket watch Pollux flashed before her, ''so why exactly are we stopping?''

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of pistons fell away, the wind and rain echoed louder than ever. Juliet, who was nearest to the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking out of their compartments, deeply confused.

The train came to a halt with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs notified them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Without warning, all the lamps fizzled out, plunging the five into complete darkness.

Juliet felt her way back to her seat, guided by Apollo. ''Do you think we've broken down?''

''No clue . . . ''

''Lumos.'' There was a soft, crackling noise before a shivering light engulfed the compartment. It illuminated Evangeline's perfect features, a contrast to the alert and wary look in her eyes.

The door slid open slowly. Standing in the doorway was a cloaked figure, towering to the ceiling, its face completely hidden beneath its hood. Evangeline's eyes darted downwards, and what she saw made her stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grey-ish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water. An intense cold swept over them all before the creature departed, seemingly satisfied with whoever or whatever was or wasn't in their compartment.

They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey.

At long last, the train pulled up at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get out. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets. Masses of people shunted each other along the platform to a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited everyone from second year and up. Evangeline could only assume each one was pulled by an invisible horse, since, as usual, the coach set of all by itself, swaying and bumping in procession.

As the carriage trundled towards a pair of admittedly magnificent wrought-iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Evangeline noticed to more towering, hooded Dementors standing guard on either side. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Juliet was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer.

The second Evangeline stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded in her hear. ''You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?'' Draco Malfoy elbowed past Evangeline and Hermione Granger to block Harry Potter's way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.

''Shove off, Malfoy,'' Ron Weasley defended, his jaw clenched. Evangeline could not blame him — she had nothing against the family as a whole, but Draco was the rotten apple in the tree she abhorred. 

''Did you faint as well, Weasley?'' Draco cackled, ''did the scary old Dementor frighten you, too, Weasley?''

''If you're going to insult someone, Malfoy,'' Evangeline interrupted, stopping Cassius behind her who held her handbag, ''you'd be wise enough not to do it mere centimeters from a teacher.''

''Is there a problem?'' A mild voice asked, one who Evangeline could only hope was in fact a new professor, or she would appear incredibly stupid in front of hundreds of pairs of watchful eyes. 

Draco gave the older man an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he spoke, ''Oh, no — er — Professor,'' he smirked, leading Crabbe and Goyle up the steps to the castle.

''There is, actually,'' Evangeline complained, glaring at Draco's retreating figure, ''I don't recall bleached ferrets being permitted as pets at Hogwarts.''

The Professor looked as if he could laugh, a small smile gracing his scarred and exhausted face. Though he looked quite young, his light-brown hair was flecked with grey, shining in the crescent moonlight. Overall, Evangeline thought he was quite handsome. ''I'll be sure to report back to Dumbledore, Miss . . . ?''

''Rosier,'' she smiled, ''it would be much appreciated, Professor.'' With that, the pair of seventh-year Slytherins joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, and into the cavernous Entrance Hall, which was lit with flaming torches and housed a striking marble staircase that led to the upper floors.

The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right. Inside was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long house tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in mid-air. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall.

''How have we already missed the Sorting?'' Evangeline wondered, clinging to Cassius' arm as they navigated themselves to where Juliet, Apollo, and Pollux sat. There was no sign of Sylvia, and Evangeline brushed it off on the journey, figuring she may have sat somewhere else, but now there was no reasonable explanation.

''Doesn't look like there's a lot of first years this year,'' Pollux observed, looking at the ends of each house table.

''Maybe it's something to do with Sirius Black?'' Apollo offered, receiving no response as at that moment, the Headmaster stood up to speak.

Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that didn't mean the Slytherins respected him. It seemed as if people couldn't help but trust Albus Dumbledore, and Evangeline personally thought it was a great weakness to trust blindly, and could get you killed in some instances.

''Welcome!'' Dumbledore addressed, the candlelight shimmering on his beard, ''welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast . . . as you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business. They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave the school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors. On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome to new teachers to our ranks this year. Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.''

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only a few Gryffindors clapped hard, joined by Evangeline who received aghast looks from those around her. Her best guess would be the fact that Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.

''As to our second new appointment,'' Dumbledore continued, ''well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.''

The applause at the Gryffindor table was tumultuous in particular. Evangeline had always found Hagrid sort of odd, yet she couldn't help but gently smile at the wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.

''Well, I think that's everything of importance. Let the feast begin!''

The golden plates and goblets before everyone filled suddenly with food and drink. It was a delicious feast; the Great Hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. At long last, when the last morsels of treacle tart had melted from the shining platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for everyone to go to bed.