𝑩𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒑 | ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

1 | 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠

"𝒂𝒏𝒅, 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒊 𝒂𝒎
𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒂𝒚 '𝒊'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'"

𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐍𝐨𝐚𝐡 𝐊𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐧

The inside of the Hogwarts Express was nothing like Aria could have ever imagined.

The long steam train quickly became a temporary home to hundreds of wizarding children. Bursts of magic from those attempting to practice spells flooded the corridors, and laughter drifted from compartment to compartment, telling of the joy emanating from groups of friends.

Walking down the long narrow corridor was a surreal experience, a deep blue carpeted floor ran along the course of the train carriage, filtering into tiny compartments lined with blue couches. Students traveled from each tiny room into different ones, likely catching up with various friend groups, and prefects gathered at the front of the steam train to discuss the year ahead.

James and Aria strolled along, each compartment they passed by was full. Older students gossiped about what had happened over the summer and kids around James and Aria's age talked excitedly about their upcoming years at the school for magic and the classes they were most looking forward to attending.

Gazing longingly at the passing rooms, Aria found herself pondering on the year ahead.

She could barely write her name, never mind any essays or classwork she would need to complete. Reading old scraps from novels was nothing compared to the thick books she had seen piled on some of the older students' tables.

A pit formed at the bottom of her stomach, and a sinking feeling of dread overwhelmed the young girl.

Would she make friends? What would she do about not having a wand? A uniform?

The last thing Aria wanted was to stick out.

"This one's free!" James shouted back to her. She looked up, not realising that she had fallen behind the boy. Quickly walking to catch up with the eleven-year-old, he held the compartment door open as she stepped under his awaiting arm and into the small room.

Two boys were already sitting in the chairs as Aria sat down, James following suit soon after.

"Thanks for letting us sit with you" James started, huffing slightly as he sat on the seat directly across from Aria. Brown met a pasty white as James reached out to shake the awaiting hand of the boy he had chosen to sit next to. "I'm James Potter and the pretty one across from me is Aria Whittaker."

Aria bushed at both the impromptu compliment and the attention that had been suddenly directed toward her. Nodding her head in acknowledgment, she watched intently as the boy shook James' hand.

Rings of all shapes and sizes covered the ivory skin, looking as though they had been put on rather hastily, perhaps soon after the boy had boarded?

"Sirius Black, at your service" He smirked, his bright brown eyes shining with a slight speck of mischief. He was already dressed in robes, a black tie with the Hogwarts crest tied around his neck, and his black hair lay neatly styled just above his ears.

As the eleven-year-old shook James' hand, Aria focussed on the light bruising that stained the boy's hand. She was all too familiar with those.

Aria could tell that, although he seemed to downplay it, Sirius came from a life of luxury and wealth. She had observed that wealthy people often held themselves in a certain manner, and likely passed that trait down to any children they might have in the fear of being seen as a 'lower-class' family.