Standing Under Gray Skies

Autophobia

(n.) The fear of abandonment and being abandoned by someone.

By the time the Hogwarts Express finally pulled up to Hogsmeade Station, I swore Remus and I could have passed as siblings with how well we knew each other. If we looked anything like one another, anyway.

Nine stations' worth of students, all unloading the train at the same time, surprisingly wasn't so unbearable when you had a friend at your side. This I learned as the aforementioned students were all unloading said aforementioned train. Remus and I, to avoid getting split up or lost, held onto one another's sleeves. Though Remus might have been kinda tall for our age, therefore moderately easy to spot in a crowd, I, unfortunately, was not. I was small. So, like a small child, I'd asked Remus prior to unloading if we could use the so-called, 'buddy system.' Luckily for me, Remus hadn't laughed in my face, and agreed, silently taking my sleeve in his fist when we stood to leave our compartment. So far, to both of our amusement, the system was working.

At the head of the unloading platform stood a few adults, professors, I assumed (based on their choice of wardrobe being long, elegant robes, ) waiting to collect the students. After a semi-long (and particularly boring) lecture about staying together, and what to expect on the short voyage to the school, all first-years were led through town, and to an area at the foot of a large lake, where dozens of rowboats were docked, rocking on the gentle currents of the lake shore. "Four students permitted to one boat," we were chided, and students warily and excitedly began to board. Remus and I wound up seated with a girl named Marlene, and a boy named Frank, both of whom seemed quite modest in nature, though there was something about Marlene that screamed 'wild' in my ears. There was a fire of passion and anticipation in her eyes, which I'll admit, I found quite attractive in a girl.

I'm not sure how long we were led along the gentle waves until the majestic sight of Hogwarts came into view, but when it did, I was absolutely awe-struck.

Against the backdrop of a dazzling starry night sky, stood a magnificent, gorgeous castle, sitting over a cliff which overlooked the entirety of the lake, reaching high into the low evening clouds. Marvellous stone structure and brick walls seemingly transported me back into mediaeval times, and with the lights from within shining off the rippling water surface of the lake, it truly was nothing short of magical.

As the boats drifted closer to the other side of the lake, I felt a bubble of anticipation building itself up in my gut, and absent-mindedly began bouncing my knee. Perhaps I had nothing really to fret about, but at the same time, the outcome of these next seven years of my life would all be dictated by whichever house I was placed into. As the first-year charity case, the thought of it all being wasted in some lesser-prospects house felt like an absolute waste of a Hogwarts letter.

My parents–my real ones, anyway–never would have sent me to Hogwarts from America. No, I'd have been sent to Ilvermorny instead, along with quite literally every other witch and wizard afraid of being themselves in America. I'd have learned to cast spells silently or under my breath, for fear of prosecution by plain folk. I'd have learned to hide my school books and supplies in hidden cupboards under the floor panels under my bed, and never speak of magic, even at home. I'd have learned to keep my head down and voice low, as the only daughter of two Aurors of the American Ministry of Magic. To not draw any attention to myself, and attend plain-folk Sunday church school so no one would suspect me of being anything but ordinary.

All I would need to complete the "secret witch" set is an obscurial. Then, happy, fun-filled times of misery and pain would all be mine!

Things, as far as I'm aware, were much better for wizard folk in Europe than they could ever be in America. It's why I was brought and set here after my parents died, so I could have a better chance at life. Had my parents not been killed in the riots at the Ministry, by plain-folk hands, at that, I never would have come to live with my godparents in London and France, I never would have been granted a transfer of school plans from Ilvermorny to Hogwarts, I never would have properly learned how to be a witch, and I never would have been at King's Cross to board the Hogwarts Express. Most of all, I'd never be here, now walking up to Hogwarts with my friend, anxious to walk through those large ornate doors, and begin the next chapter of my life. I'd never have gotten the chance to find or experience any of this.