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･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
AVA VIOTTO TENSED WHEN SHE FELT HER MOTHER'S COLD HAND firmly grasp her shoulder, hissing scoldingly in her ear, "Stand up straight! Slouching is not ladylike!"
"Sorry, Mother," Ava mumbled the words she'd voiced too many times to count over the years as she fixed her posture.
"I can't believe they just don't build a separate station for us magic folk," Mr. Viotto said with disgust, eyeing the passing Muggles with disdain. "We shouldn't blend with inferiors."
Ava pursed her lips as she gripped her trolley tightly, her eyes dancing around the heavy crowds of people. Her whole body was rigid as she walked between her parents. Today was the day she left for Hogwarts and she was terrified.
She should feel overwhelming excitement coursing through her; this was, after all, a new adventure for her to overtake, a new scenery to explore, an opportunity to meet new and interesting people. Ava thrived in knowledge and she was sure she was going to be getting loads of that at school.
Instead, however, she felt fearful.
Viotto.
It sounded and looked like an ordinary name to ordinary people but the weight of it felt heavy against Ava's chest.
She was supposed to be on top of the food chain and yet she felt as if she were nothing more than a scared rabbit ready to be slaughtered.
The Viotto name was ancient, it was well respected, it was powerful amongst wizards. The family were supposed to be legends, never really spotted in plain sight in England, for they had their home in Italy. One could only recognise a member of the family if they introduced themselves with their surname or if they displayed their unusual magic, their slight accent was a small clue as well.
Ava felt ashamed of her family. Of her name. Of her status. Of her magic. Of her parents' prejudice. She wanted to cover her face with her hands and hide away from the world.
But, following her mother's lead, she held her chin up high, hiding the tremor in her hands and her quivering chin.
There was something in her favour still, though. Even if she felt as if people were studying her with a close eye—even as they crossed through the barrier and made it to platform 9 and three-quarters—no one was actually seeing her.
