The Untold Story of RAB

The Train

September 1st, 1976

The Hogwarts Express blazed further and further away from King's Cross until Diana Montgomery could no longer see the station. She ducked her head out from outside of the window and brushed down her dark hair from the mess the wind had made of it. She rearranged her large lens glasses on her face and flopped down onto the bench in her compartment beside Saoirse.

"Another Dumbledore," Saoirse groaned, "I don't need his card, he's already our headmaster", she said in her Irish lilt, throwing the chocolate frog card into her bag. She slid down into her seat in defeat, her dirty blonde hair fanning out behind her head.

The other member of their trio was Margaret Abebe who was sitting across from them in the carriage, cross legged, reading a very large book, her brown eyes moving rapidly over the words. She looked up at Saoirse's complaint, "come on, you've only got his card like twice" she said with a laugh.

    Saoirse responded with a deadpan expression, "twice? I have 78."

    At this they all burst out laughing.

    The girls had been best friends since they had been sorted into Gryffindor together five years ago. They were practically inseparable.

As Saoirse and Margaret bent over Saorise's small pile of new cards, Diana looked at them and feeling so lucky they were all together again. Margaret was the oldest by a month. She had black hair that she kept in a large afro, dark brown skin, sharp cheekbones, and was quite thin. Margaret was also the tallest of the trio and found it quite useful when reaching the top of the library's shelves. Saoirse on the other hand was very petite with dark eyes, a roman nose, and almost constantly furrowed brows. She was quick and alert, reminding Diana of a chipmunk sometimes.

Diana had grown a bit and was almost as tall as Margaret. They both shared the same trait of terrible eyesight and both wore large frame glasses, inspired by the muggle's Wonder Woman, also named Diana. Diana had her worn in dark brown hair down today, long and straight, curtain bangs framing her face. She had tan summer skin covered in freckles, hazel eyes, and a button nose. She was slender and toned from Quidditch and had grown into herself over the last year.

    "Since you're my best friend Mageret," Saoirse said, "can I have some of your prefect power?"

    Over the summer Margeret had gotten a letter from the school requesting she be a Gryffindor prefect. Her family had been ecstatic, her brother was a prefect and now head-boy too. They wanted Margeret to follow in his footsteps.

    Margaret laughed and shook her head, "much to your dismay and McGonagall's relief that isn't how it works."

    Saorise was a bit of a troublemaker, she was a good student but it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for her to be in detention for a prank or wrong thing said to the wrong teacher.

    "I don't know why they let Ernest McLaggen be a prefect, that git can't see anything on his high horse, he's such a snob," Saoirse muttered glumly.

    Last year Ernest had asked Saoirse out so much that she eventually put a jelly jinx curse on him, he left her alone after that, but was always around to make a snide remark about her appearance or grades when he had the chance.

    Diana secretly wondered to herself why she wasn't prefect. She didn't entirely want to be, she didn't want to have that much responsibility or for her actions to be nitpicked by frustrated first years. She knew Margeret was a natural leader who excelled in academics, she was a perfect choice. But a small, dark, and very jealous part of her was mad she didn't get to be prefect with the status and the power.

    About half an hour before they would arrive, the girls went to change into their robes. They gathered their uniforms and headed down the train corridor.

    They changed in the lavatory stalls, which was "so undignified", Margaret complained and thought the school should add changing rooms if they expected them to arrive in uniform.

    Diana excused herself to stay behind in the bathroom knowing she wouldn't get a chance till after the feast.

    As Diana made her way back to her friends someone came out of their compartment all of the sudden and slammed right into Diana.

    "Hey watch it," she said, rubbing her shoulder where they collided.

    "I'm terribly sorry," he replied, his voice low and warm.

    Diana looked up, face to face with Regulus Black.

    He stared back at her with his grey eyes.

    She rolled her own and shuffled past him. No way would she even have a conversation with him. He was one of those terrible Slytherins who loved his blood pure and his muggleborns gone. As a muggleborn herself she wanted to waste no time near him. He was Sirius' brother and everyone in Gryffindor by now was well aware how Sirius had run away this summer and that the Black family had disowned him all while Regulus watched. Everyone, besides the Slytherins, were on Sirius' side.

    When she got back to her compartment she told Margaret and Saoirse what had happened.

    "I vow we never speak to him again, I know he's in our year, and our classes. But he is a right arse for not standing up for Sirius," Margaret said sternly.

    Diana nodded her head in agreement, it was only Saoirse who held back. They both looked at her.

    "Now, you all know I am no fan of the Black family or the Slytherins. But let's put ourselves in Regulus' shoes ok. Your whole family is crazy messed up and raises you to be crazy messed up. Then your own brother, the elder brother you look up to, gets ostracized and beaten for being a Gryffindor and generally not bending to the will of your super intense family. That would probably scare you into submission too. Now I am not saying we should go and make friends with him and be all chummy, but let's give him the benefit of the doubt," Saoirse finished with a solemn nod.

    Margaret and Diana looked at each other and both nodded. Sometimes they forgot Saoirse's family were like the Blacks. She wasn't just imagining, she was speaking from experience. Saoirse's father was a Carrow and had defected from his family's pure-blood supremacy ideals two decades ago, a little before Saoirse was born. With that came a lot of baggage, especially still carrying that surname.

    "I hadn't thought about it like that," Margaret said, then paused, "I still don't trust him though."

    "And you shouldn't," Saoirse said quickly, "but I want to give him a chance to escape."

    They both turned to Diana who said, "we'll be polite, that's it."