Now fourteen-year-old Atticus Wilde sat in a compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express. Her head rested against the cool glass as she listened to the faint whistle of the train. This had been a common occurrence for the young girl during the first few years of attending Hogwarts. She would board the train, claim a compartment, and wait for her dear friend Saros Ernst to find her.
Ever since Saros Ernst had stepped foot in her compartment at eleven years old, he had not stopped talking. He was probably the friendliest person Atticus had ever come across and it drove her crazy. He was the opposite of her with his energetic atmosphere and charming smile. She was so accustomed to being alone, but when the stubborn wart (and she means that in the most loving way) that is Saros Ernst weaved his way into her once secluded life, she couldn't help but be excited about the new found company. To any onlookers, Saros and Atticus were an unlikely pair, but it worked. She was quiet and reserved all the while Saros was opinionated and had no problem letting others know what he was thinking. They kept each other steady and Atticus had never been more thankful for that. Her train of thought was interrupted by the opening of her door.
Atticus lifted her head off the glass and watched as Saros slipped into the room with an irritated scowl.
"I feel like there should be a rule that says no first years can look at upperclassmen." Saros huffed as he threw himself on to the plush seat across from Atticus. "They look at you like they haven't seen a bloody wizard before."
"I'm not surprised. They probably haven't seen someone look so -" Atticus paused, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "- ghastly."
Saros threw her a glare and rolled his eyes. He lifted himself into a sitting position and raised a brow in Atticus's direction. It was a strange sight to see Atticus be even remotely snarky, but it made Saros feel warm. She was comfortable with him and that was all that mattered.
"I'm going to pretend like you didn't just insult me, your best friend in the entire world." Saros said with a grin. Atticus just shrugged in response, a lazy smile on her lips.
"How was your break?" Atticus asked after a beat. It seemed as though Saros had been waiting for her to ask him because as soon as the last word slipped of his lips, he dove into the tale of the epic Quidditch match that he attended before he came back. He spoke lively about the match itself, but his tone soon lost its life and became distant.
"We were in our tent." He had started, his gaze on the passing scenery. "The match was over, but people were still celebrating. It sounded like everyone was having fun, Atticus. But, there was this scream."
He paused and took in a shaky breath. Atticus quickly moved to the open space next to him and grabbed his open hand. "It was so loud and so scared. That's when everything fell apart. My dad forced me out of the tent and told me to run. I wanted to stay and help him, but he wouldn't let me. Herds of people were pushing their way away from whatever the hell was there. I got separated from my dad, but I couldn't stop or I would have been trampled on. I found him later, but you should have seen him. I have never seen my dad look so scared. "
"What was it?" Atticus question lightly, ignoring the sting shooting up her arm from Saros's tight grip. The next words that left his mouth made Atticus freeze, her blood running cold,
"Death Eaters." He said quietly, as if they would appear if he said it any louder. Atticus gulped back the sudden dread that filled her body and focused on comforting her friend. She allowed him to lay his head on her shoulder as she rubbed his arm in a comforting way. Saros had always admired the maternal instinct that Atticus had. She had such a big heart and was willing to do anything she could to make sure that her friend and family were okay. Saros was sure that was why she was in Gryffindor.
