Lumos

1| Chocolate Frogs

Five years ago...

When I'd first received the letter in the mailbox, creamy white with a red wax stamp on the front, I'd been ecstatic. My parents were even worse, conjuring up cakes and buying presents and celebrating all day long; probably because they were thankful I hadn't turned out a squib. I'd been a late bloomer all my life.

They took me to Diagon Alley straight away, buying me books and robes and things of that sort. I picked my pet. She was gorgeous; a barn owl with a face shaped like a heart and eyes that seemed to have trapped the night in them.

That day same day, I saw him. He'd been talking to another boy, one with pale blond hair that seemed to match his face, cold gray eyes and a nasty smirk. I recognized him as soon as I saw him. Everyone had his description memorized.

"That's him," my father had nodded his head towards them.

"Harry Potter?" I asked, feeling excitement rush through my veins. It was him! The glasses, the scar . . . I remember wanting to check for the scar for confirmation. Father shook his head.

"The one next to him. He's a Malfoy. His father could be here. Let's leave."

I couldn't object. My things were bought. I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of the other boy's scar, but was distracted by my mother's hand, which had touched my shoulder gently.

"Let's go, Elvira." I obliged, following them. I turned one last look to sneak a peek at the Boy Who Lived, but he was gone. And to my surprise, the blond haired boy stood in his place, a sneer on his face as his eyes met mine. Shocked, I whipped around.

"Where too next?" My mother chirped cheerfully.

"Ollivander's," I said mentally shaking it all off. I'd have plenty of chances too see Harry Potter up close. After all, we were going to the same school. "Who are the Malfoys?"

"Don't worry about it. Just stay clear of the Malfoys, alright?" Father warned. I'd nodded.

"Were his parents in Slytherin?" I asked almost innocently.

"Yes, but that's not a bad thing. Don't judge people based on what house they're sorted into," Father said, patting my shoulder.

"It doesn't matter, anyways. He'll be in Slytherin, and I'll be in Gryffindor. We'll never see each other."

Mother laughed. "Darling, you haven't even been sorted into a house yet."

"I'll be in Gryffindor, just like you two." End of that.

"As you wish." Father did a little bow. I grinned. They didn't care for that stuff. It never mattered to them, so I decided not to think about it.

Boy, should I have thought about it.

It was hard to say goodbye to my parents. I leaned out of the window, waving my hands.

"I love you!" I shouted. I wasn't embarrassed. Why would I be? I waved until they were out of sight, and then I sat down, fidgeting with excitement. It was then I realized a girl sat in front of me; bushy-haired with big, brown eyes. Her nose was buried in a book, and she seemed to be reading quite intensely. "I'm Elvira," I held out a hand. "Elvira Steele."

The girl looked up from Hogwarts, a History and noticed my hand. A smile broke out across her face.

"Granger. Hermione Granger." She proceeded to shake my outstretched hand. Then, she continued to read.

"You're a first year, I'm guessing?" I continued. "Why are you reading that great old book?"

"I love reading," she said curtly. She looked up, her eyes catching something. "Look, the trolley's here."