DATE: September o1, 1977
POV: Alisa Rae Thomas
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Everybody was still staring down on me like I just ate a Hippogriff…Except for Severus.
"Guys, what's wrong with it?" I asked them. "Guys…Hello?"
"Do you know what the person is if you can speak Parseltongue?!" James said with anger cracking in his “smooth” voice.
"Did I win something?!" I said sarcastically, glaring at his with resentment.
"Ha! She has a humor!" Sirius gloated with glee
Remus was still staring down on me. He was quite cute, I'll admit, however, he's too quiet.
"No," Remus began, "you must be an heir of Salazar Slytherin."
"Is this a bad thing?" I questioned them.
"Not necessarily," Severus drawled.
"In our terms, yes; in Snivelly's, not so much," Sirius said with cool and ease.
"Well, Sev's got a point," Lily pointed out. "It could also mean the prophecy of another Dark Wizard."
"Because that's all we need, Evans," James said sarcastically. "Alisa, if you can speak Parseltongue, you are destined for becoming a Death Eater."
"Che cosa è un mangiatore di morte?" I asked in fluent Italian. "Oh, right, I forgot you guys didn't speak Italian. But what is a presumable "Death Eater"?"
"The Death Eaters are followers of Voldemort," Severus said.
The others twitched at his name.
"Grow up, will you!" Severus shouted.
"Who's Voldemort?" I asked, quite unaware of whom he is. “Did you know, that ‘Voldemort’ means ‘flight of death’ in French?”
"He's the worst Dark Wizard to have ever walked on this world," Lily explained. "He's also on a mission to kill every Muggle-born and Muggle. Nobody calls him by his true name."
"Oh, that's odd," I said out loud thinking.
“Peculiar fact, Alisa, because that is what he is exactly famous for,” Remus noted.
Then there was a loud screeching of brakes as the whole entire train lurched forwards. The train then stopped.
A very large man with a lantern was yelling, "Fir's years this way!"
"You should probably follow, Hagrid," James said. "We'll see you inside."
"But, I'm a fifth year!" I protested.
"Are you Sorted yet?" Sirius asked sarcastically.
"No," I said cautiously with an obvious tone.
"Well, then get over there!" he yelled at me.
I scurried off towards “Hagrid”.
"Ye' don't look 'ike yer a fir's year," he said as he looked down on me.
"Je suis un étudiant de transfert de l'Italie," I told him with a smirk.
He grunted something like "Slytherin", but I couldn't catch it.
"Oh, ye must be tha' transfer student, yea'?" he asked me.
I just nodded.
"Okay, well ye' follo me, ye' he'r?" he told me.
I just followed him into a boat.
"So, tell me a bit abou' yesself," he said as I sat next to him.
