Snake Bitten

Dangerously Surrounded

  "Be good, Y/N. Stay out of trouble and no boys!" Your mom cries from the train station wall, your father holding her from running after you. Her beautiful baby girl all grown up, going off to Hogwarts Wizardry School.

  "I'm 11, mom! Gross!" You testify, bags heavy in hand. Your bearded dragon seems to share your disgust as he sneezes, perched on your shoulder.

  The all call system screamed from above that the train was departing soon and all passengers should enter the train to get settled immediately. Hundreds of students wish goodbye to their families as you huddle aboard quickly. Finally sitting down on a comfy red couch, you look out the window to see the brick wall; A perfect seat for someone with motion sickness.

  "Here we go, Granton." You whisper to your lizard, his squeak of response releasing your nerves. The train sputters loudly as the whistle blows and pressurized air screams from the roof, a final kick sends the whole vehicle into motion. Children outside the room chatter and rustle about the hallway, that's when you notice a skinny boy who's clearly up to no good running past the door. His hair is almost white and his skin is not far off either. Then two others rush behind him, his friends presumably, their faces pudgy and winded. You decide to draw the boy to remember his face, or what of it you saw. You packed an old leather sketchbook with pencils similar to forest sticks, unsymmetrical and tattered, the pages are yellowed and stiff. You start by drawing his clothes, where his hands would have been, had you been looking for structure. Then his head, his hair fleeing back in the wind of his speed, short and gel held. Onto his face, his nose was pointy but not hideous and his lips only stuck out so far to be noticable. His cloak drapes behind him wildly like the mane of a rogue horse running with freedom. As you finish drawing the boy's portrait, you hear a bang on the window of the door. Startled, you glance up in absolute shock and it takes a moment to recognize him. The boy that ran past, with platinum blonde hair and even fairer skin, was standing at the cabin door bewildered. He reached for the door and pulled it open, your body immediately moving back to create distance. Why is he to barge in here? Is he dangerous? He looks innocent but angry. Why does he think he can just barge in your train cabin and take your sketchbook? Wait- Your sketchbook!

  "Give that back! Don't you know you shouldn't take things that don't belong to you?" You shriek in a fluster of emotion, ripping the book from his hands.

  "Don't you know it's rude to take pictures of people without their permission? In this case it's drawing but still!"

  "It's called art, you ferret! If you don't like it, I can easily get rid of it!" You protest back, the boy hushing his tone with nothing to reply. His eyes drifted around as the gears in his mind turned tirelessly.

  "Be one of my minions." He spat rudely, centering his eyes in yours.

  "Excuse me?"

  "I said 'be one of my minions.' Are you deaf?"

  "Do you mean be your friend or do you have some weird complex?"

  Before your conversation can continue any further, a kind old lady pushes a cart through the hall holding candy, drinks, and snacks for the ride. You buy some flavored water and a caramel apple with money your father gave you before leaving the station. The moment the lady leaves, the boy does not bother to bicker anymore and he retreats back to the hall as well. You quickly scribble in your sketchbook, notes next to the boy's drawing, "-Platinum Blonde Hair, Dark clothes, Ivory skin, ice grey eyes" before slamming the book shut in a fit of frustration. Stupid ferret. You reach for Granton but are nervously surprised with air in place of your scaled friend. Your eyes scour the area for the bearded dragon but you fail to find him as fear sets in. He has no survival instincts and he doesn't know how to get food by himself. Without avail to finding him, he'd surely die soon. What would you do?

  "Granton?" You shout desperately, searching under the seat, rummaging through luggage, and gashing away at the curtains around the windows. "Granton!" Fear chills your spine and surrounds your sternum. You can't breath! The air is numbing and frozen, breathing feels as if daggers are lacerating your lungs. Your head pounds as your fingertips are similar to static. You stumble out of the cabin doors and make your clumsy way down the hall. A girl with curly brown hair steps outside of her cabin and notices you quickly, irrationally rushing to your aid.

  "Are you alright? You look flushed, do you need some water?" The girl interrogated, her voice lobbing through your ears as she pulls you back inside her cabin space to sit.

  "My bearded dragon! Granton!" You manage to cry through huffs of dismantled breathing as you notice two younger boys; One a red head with chocolate stuffed in his face, and the other, a shy brown haired boy with circular glasses.

  "Did you lose him?" The girl asks calmly, taking your hand for reassurance. All you can do is nod as you begin to feel paralyzed and helpless. "My name is Hermione Granger, can you tell me your name?"

  "I'm" You find it extremely difficult to speak yet you still preserve in hopes she can help you find Granton. "My name is Y/N Rofflee."

  "Ron and Harry can go look for him," Hermione explains in more of a demand to the boys than a promise to you. "You and I can stay here until you breathe properly. We still have an hour or two left of this ride, I'm sure we'll find him by then."