Xavier My Savior

1 • Year of Dogs

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Q U E N T I N

I was on the Hogwarts Express by myself, sad that I'd have to talk to strangers to make friends — I hated how that's a necessary step, unlike fantasizing about book characters — but also excited to see what was supposedly the best wizarding school in the world.

I hadn't expected to make any friends so early, but I was quickly proven wrong when a girl wearing pristine black robes flung open my compartment door and carefully placed her orange trunk inside without even a word of greeting.

"Hello?" I ventured uneasily, politely putting my mystery novel away.

"Hi, sorry!" she straightened and pushed the door closed with her foot. She smiled widely, and her brown eyes shined with excited mischief. Her hair, I couldn't help but notice, was quite a mess. The kind of mess that made you wonder what lived in it.

Her voice was chipper as she explained, "Other rooms are occupied by people who look happy without me, but you seemed lonely and nice!" She held out a doodle-covered left hand, "I'm Carolina Fernández, the coolest Spaniard you'll ever meet."

I fumbled for a moment before putting out my left hand as well to shake hers, careful not to do it too firmly as to ruin her art. "Quentin Stuart."

Carolina nodded vaguely, retracting her hand. "Wonderful name. You can call me Caro." She pronounced it like Cah-ro, with a slight roll over the r.

She heaved her trunk up so it was on the chair across me, then sat down next to it, cross-legged. She hummed as she adjusted it, placing a protective hand on the top. It was oddly positioned; I could only see her palm and the inside of her wrist.

Caro straightened her legs, then changed her mind and re-crossed them. I felt like she was acting a little strange, but I didn't want to be rude. I was such an introvert that it wasn't until the train chugged out of the station that I mustered the courage to ask, "You're a first year?'

I wondered if it was also a stupid question. I mean, she'd entered looking for a friend, didn't she?

"Yep," she said cheerfully, unfazed. Then she pulled a brush out of her pocket and began dragging it through her messy curled hair. The hand on the trunk stayed where it was. "I'm assuming you are, too?"

I nodded, trying to ignore the frightening sounds of the brush tearing through the tangles. I guess me being a first year was obvious to her. I was quite short for my age, so even if I was a second year I'd get mistaken for a new student.

"What House to do you want to get in?" Caro asked conversationally, putting the brush back. She appeared to have given up half-way into her endeavour, but her hair did look much better.

I was tempted to lie but decided there wasn't much point. "Slytherin," I admitted, not sure how she'd react. I felt like she'd be a Gryffindor, and that House wasn't known to be a huge fan of the house of snakes.

To my relief, she clapped with delight, "Hey, same! Now we can definitely be friends!"

Two things were revealed to me in that instant. Her right arm had been burned. Rough pink skin with many parts black extended from the tips of her fingers into her sleeve.

The second thing was a muffled bumping sound from her trunk. I courteously pretended I hadn't seen her arm and peered at the source of the noise. "Did that come from your trunk?"

"Did what?" she asked in confusion. Her hand was back on the trunk in that unnatural pose.

"The..." I decided that perhaps I'd imagined it. "Never mind." Even so, I continued to stare at her luggage. There were holes in it, I realized. They kind of resembled bullet holes.