Forlorn Hope s.b.

four chocolate frogs

september 1st, 1971

The first thing Elara noticed was the smell. It was one that was tart and strong and it invaded the young girl's senses as she took in the new world around her. It was the smell of the steam engine that billowed and whistled in anticipation to leave platform nine and three quarters. As the rustle and bustle of students and parents alike clouded around her, the only thing that the girl seemed to be able to focus on was the smell. The smell of the start of something new. The start of the next seven years of her life.

A small smile played on the child's lips as she looked at the train in awe before her attention was drawn to a boy that had unfortunately lost control of his pet owl and was failing miserably to contain it. Elara was never the shyest girl, nor was she ever the bravest, but she did have the kindest heart and warmest smile. She wasted no time in weaving in front of people to help the boy. She placed her trunk on the ground and stepped up on it before clasping her hands securely around the dastardly creature. 

It squirmed under her touch as the boy held the cage door open and Elara tucked the bird back inside safely. The boy locked the latch and then another one just to be safe that the bird would not be able to make another feeble attempt at escape.

The boy with a mop of blonde hair the just grazed his eyes looked up at the girl that was just an inch taller than he and smiled in appreciation...or embarrassment,

"Uh...thanks, Peanut can get a little antsy before boarding."

Elara was fascinated by the bird, Peanut. Sure, she had seen owls before when her mother would send or receive post and she would sneak past to pet and coddle the bird when her mother was unaware, but Elara always had a continued fascination for animals of all kinds.

"That's alright, Peanut is darling. I'm Elara, by the way." She stuck out her hand eagerly.

The boy hesitantly shook it as if it was the oddest thing for an eleven year old to have such manners to shake someone's hand upon meeting them,

"Andrew. Andrew Whitehart. Are you a first year?"

She nodded her head, "I am, you?"

"Nah, second, Hufflepuff."

Elara beamed. Her mother had told her stories of Hogwarts, though she didn't go there herself. There were four houses every first year was sorted into; Gryffindor-the brave and the bold that bore colors of red and gold and the emblem of a lion, Hufflepuff-those who bare loyalty and morality above all that dance in the colors of yellow and black and are symbolized by a badger, Slytherin-cunning and strong twisted in emerald and silver and a serpent on their shoulder, Ravenclaw-ones who possess the wisdom and wit to adorn the blue and bronze under an eagle.

"How exciting!" Elara gushed, but before she could speak another word to the boy, her name was being shouted from across the platform.

She turned back and saw the other eleven year old that had been her friend since before they could speak as he ran her way with his floppy brown hair and askew glasses. Her smiled had never left, but grew brighter at the sight of James Potter.

"James!"

The boy engulfed her into a hug so tight she start to loose her breath just before he released the girl.

"I saw you last night, Jamie, yet you act like we haven't seen each other in years!"

The boy almost looked offended at her comment, "Hey! Twelve hours it a long time!" Elara giggled at her friend's dramatic tendencies that she was all the well used to.

The train horn made them both jump out of their conversation as Euphemia and Fleamont Potter finally caught up to their son. The girl's mother and father, Neoma and Nathan Dawson, trailed behind them.