Clover Hawkings and the Triwizard Tournament

2. Fireworks

Living is easy with eyes closed...misunderstanding all you see. 

- The Beatles, Strawberry Fields Forever 

Artemis laughs and follows me. Which is a problem, since I don't know where I'm going. She doesn't expect me to go back to the compartment, does she? My inkling of a plan when I emerged from the bathroom was to apologize and then try to catch up with the food trolley. I slow down and stare at the carpet, worn down from so many feet trampling on it. I wait for Artemis to pass me and rush into the compartment with her friends. I have no friends-you make them in first year, and if you can't, too bad.

Artemis stops hand on the door of the compartment. My stomach twists, and I speed up.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. Come sit with us!"

It takes me a second to realize that she wants me to come back. With her. Even after I yelled at her. And probably made her cry. Dumbass. Both of us. It's an elaborate plan to try to humiliate me. And she thinks I'll fall for it! I can think of no excuses.

Fine. I'll play your game.

"Sure," I say, sickly sweet, and sidestep her back to the compartment.

"Oh, good," Artemis sounds relieved, and a molten lump twists in my stomach.

"Hi," Scarlet bubbles immediately. I don't answer, Alura is still watching me with her old eyes. Old eyes, old soul. She's scary. I quickly look past her to the window. And oh, blessed relief- Hogsmeade! I am saved from the complications of where to sit, how to sit, what to say, how to say anything without throwing up.

"Catch ya later, um, er- nice meeting you," I announce, then scuttle from the train as fast as my sorry legs could carry me, pushing past people and cramming into small nooks to get by.

I leap onto the nearest carriage, cutting the line, and pant with relief as both my wand and myself make it on safely. I don't bother to look around- I know exactly what I'll see. Battered leather seats, floor covered in hay and the dirt from people's shoes- and, of course, the huge, skeletal horses called threshals that pull the carriage. Not many can see them- only those who've seen death. Poor things. They don't get enough credit for doing all this work. 

I look up to see Alura..but not Alura. She has the same hair, and is even carrying the same The Quibbler magazine, but her eyes are an electric blue instead of brown, and she looks at least a year younger. She looks softer, like if Alura is a watcher, this girl is dreamer, with her necklace of butterbeer corks and radish earrings.

"I'm Luna Lovegood," the girl smiles. "You've met Alura." It's not a question. 

I nod. "How- how did you know that?"

"People who meet her always have that look," Luna says simply. 

"So, Luna," I say awkwardly. There's an alarm going off in my head, screeching  'People! People! People!' "How are you doing?"

"Quite well, actually," the girl lifts her eyes to the stars. Absentmindedly, I reach over a stroke my fingertips down the threshal's coat. 

"You see them, too?" Luna's eyes almost popped with excitement.

I nod, adding a glare in there so she doesn't ask more questions. It works. I glance over to the station, barely in sight, where people were hauling their trunks off to Filch and Hagrid, then hopping on their carriages. I recall with a smile how beautiful my leap onto this carriage was-

"Shit." I stand up and look around wildly. "My trunk!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I collapse on the cold stone floor. "I am never complaining about the house-elves carrying my stuff ever again!"

"Excuse me?" through bleary eyes I look up to see a tall figure in green and black robes.

"Oh hey there, Minnie," I yawn. Professor McGonagall is the one teacher I don't have to worry about. She and my aunt go way back. She's like a mother figure...almost...maybe more like an aunt. If I didn't already have an aunt. 

The professor frowns. "Miss Hawking, what on earth are you doing out here so late? And why are you on the floor by the prefect's bathroom?"

I close my eyes sleepily. "Well, Minnie, I fancied a bath, but once I got here it turned out I was too tired."

Professor McGonagall sighs. "My dear, no one in their right mind would make you a perfect." 

I push myself up. "Gee, thanks for the confidence boost." 

"You don't need it, you're arrogant enough already." 

"Hey! I'm only arrogant about the things I'm good at. Which is basically everything." 

"That's the definition of arrog- nevermind. How about you explain what you're doing laying on the floor at ten in the evening?"   the Professor's voice is sharp again.

"Well, technically I'm sitting. Besides, I had to get my trunk!" This is true- and trust me, it's not easy to run back to the station, enchant your trunk to make it feather-light, and fly on your broom all the way back. Which, unfortunately, is what I did.

McGonagall sighed again and muttered something that sounded like 'I don't want to know'.

"No detention this time, Miss Hawkings. But please keep track of your trunk in the future."

I wink. "Aww, ol' Minnie finally admits I'm her fav!"

I pick myself off the ground and at last release the spell holding my trunk in the air. There's a loud thump, then...

.....Fireworks of every shape, size, and color come bursting from my trunk. Fiery green dragons, sparkling stars and every color glitter- my entire year's worth of Dr Fubster's best fireworks are exploding in front of me. Well, more accurately, in the perfect's bathroom- Filch will have my head if he finds out.

I moan. "You have got to be kidding me." 

N/A: hello readers! Sorry this chapter was quite short and fluffy- I'll make up for it, I promise! In the meantime, please comment if you have any suggestions, from a typo to what you thought- I need feedback, and your commenting really helps with motivation!

Thank you so much for reading!

-Lyn