Greeting Death

Chapter one

Red light. Pain. Darkness. Enya jolted upright, gasping for air to fill her deflated lungs. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as her chest began to rise and fall at a rapid speed. She had this sickening nightmare ever since she could remember, it came frequently, but it always seemed to affect her in the same grueling, painful way each time. Exhaling slowly, she wondered how or if this recurring nightmare would ever fail to torment her dreams, and she could be free from its grasp, but the feeling was always brief, and the dream always seemed to upturn. Pushing the dream into the remnants of her thoughts, she got up to mark her calendar as she did first thing every morning. The day was September 1st, 1943. It has been nearly 250 years since Enya awoke in the forest that dreadful September night. She clenched her fists tightly, surely leaving behind crescent-shaped marks engraved into her palm. The memories of the night fought their way through her mind but were quickly diminished when she remembered she would be starting her first day at Hogwarts today. 

She had been to about all the magical schools in the world, all of them turned out to be the same; she would find no information on her curse, everyone would age, and she would be left to move on and start a brand new life all over again. She went through these motions, time and time again. Each person she left and each life she lived became more meaningless. It was exceptionally lonely watching everyone she cared for slowly deteriorate into nothingness. Numb to the feeling is the only way she could seem to describe how she felt. Each friendship, relationship, accomplishment always leads to a dead-end. She wasn't sure how many pathways were left for her or if she even desired to keep going down them. As the years went on and the burning desire for answers to her questions died, and so did the hope she had of finding them. However, she hadn't completely given up, not yet at least. Hogwarts was her last hope. Maybe someone or something there had the answers she was looking for. After all, Hogwarts was described as the best wizarding school, and well, she didn't have any other options. There had to be a reason she couldn't die, and she wasn't going to rest until she found it. 

Enya glanced down at her ticket, examining the rough edges and black letters outlined in gold making out her destination,¨Platform 9 3⁄4 ̈. The muggles were moving frantically around her, the muggle war had yet to be over, but she could only assume things were about to get worse. Families were saying goodbye, and children were being sent off in groups while parents gathered around, mourning the possibility of never seeing them again. She had always wondered if her parents mourned her or if they knew anything about her curse or what happened to her. She envisioned them from time to time, and she marveled at the image of them having the same fiery red hair, emerald green eyes, and sharp features she possessed. 

The vision faded as she neared platform nine ¾, hesitantly she ran towards the wall, an unusual tingly sensation took place deep in her bones as she found herself on a new platform. A shinny black train emerged from the distance of the tracks stopping at the platform. An ear-splitting screech let out from breaks of the train while smoke from the exhaust pipe began saturating the air. Taking a deep breath, she began to board the train. She headed for an empty compartment and loaded her trunk onto the rack. Her breath was warm on the window and melted into droplets of condensations. She found herself staring upon the platform observing the students she would soon be studying with. They all seemed to have a sense of optimism and brightness in their eyes, which gave her a sliver of hope that maybe Hogwarts won't be that bad. 

The door to the compartment opened abruptly, directing her attention towards a boy around 16 who had dark skin, a square face, and hair shaven down to his head. ¨Sorry for interrupting, are these seats taken?¨ He said in a thick British accent.

    ¨No, they aren't taken. You can sit if you'd like.¨ Enya replied, sending him a gentle smile. He nodded and then took a seat across from her placing his right ankle onto his left knee.