𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧?

𝟎𝟎𝟏 . . . brilliant green eyes.

1 SEPTEMBER 1993

(  mira sri dev!  )

THE JOY AND EXCITEMENT IN THE AIR made Mira sick with dizziness. She hated places where there were too many people. 

Too many people meant too many feelings. And too many feelings meant too many colours.

I'm gonna get a damn margarine.

Mira had always been able to feel what others felt. 

It came to her naturally, like breathing.

Emotions would seep into her veins, then her blood. 

Yellow and breezy—joy; black blues and heavy—fear; hot red and explosive—anger. They weaved their way into her heart, her soul, until they felt like her own.

It took Mira a long time to understand that not everyone can see and feel the feelings that others felt.

And it took her an even longer time to differentiate between her feelings and others'.

The platform, 9 3/4, was overflowing with the emotions of witches and wizards seeing their children on the train. 

Subtle blues and sunshine yellows.

Mira could spot some of her classmates milling around, chattering loudly.

Neville Longbottom with his grandmother, who seems to be chewing his ear off, Draco Malfoy with his mother and father, the three sneering at the rather large crowd of red-headed Weasleys.

"Why didn't you get another 'O'?" Her mother muttered as they made their way along the Hogwarts Express, the scarlet steam engine puffing thick, black-grey smoke over the platform. "Would've been one more 'O' than Padma's got. What was the subject you got an 'E' in again, Sri?"

"Herbology, Ma," Mira sighed, subtly rolling her eyes. 

She'd been hearing her complain about this ever since she received her report card a few weeks ago. 

"Herbology!" Her mother huffed, turning to look at her. "Herbology mein ek 'E'!" (An 'E' in Herbology!)

"It was the Mandrake, Ma. I always hated those things," She scrunched her nose up at the thought of the plant with human-like roots.

Her Mandrake had chomped on her middle finger when she tried to replant it. And so, Mira in turn, chucked her gardening spade at it, causing it to wail out loudly.

Looks like Professor Sprout must've heard the wretched thing.

"Mine looked like Ira when she was a baby. Shaayad aisa kyon tha gussa kar dene vaala." She snorted. (Maybe that's why it was so annoying.)

"Ma!" Her younger sister whined, her irritation a yellowish-grey. "Didi's calling me a Man- a Mand- ugh, ise kya kahate hain?" (What is it called?)

"I think the Mandrake will grow up looking just like you, Ira."

That just got Mira a glare in return.

The three continued walking along the train, till the end of it, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked empty. 

Mira loaded their trunks onto it, then the owl, Nyx's, cage in the luggage rack before picking up her cat, Jelly, and going back outside to her mother and sister.

"Now, where's your uncle? I told him to come back outside after finding a compartment." Her mother said, craning to look inside the train, trying to find her brother.