Turning Violet

1 - Trains & Friends

"Where is it?" Violet shouted as she clattered down the stairs noisily. "I had it! Indigo, if you've got it..."
"I haven't!" Her sister retorted indignantly.

"I told you to get everything ready before you went to bed, didn't I?" Mr. Dinell pointed out.

"No offence, Dad, but I wasn't listening. This is the most important day of my life and I'm going to die if I don't find it."

"Don't talk like that," said Mrs. Dinell, tutting loudly as Violet went outside to check for her shoes.

"Stop running up and down, you're just bringing dust in and out," Mr. Dinell muttered, taking a large gulp of coffee.

"I'm not bringing dust, I'm trying to find my other shoe! It's not my fault!" Violet snapped.
"It is your fault," Mrs. Dinell reminded her. "It's completely your fault. Your father told you, and you should've listened. So-"

"It doesn't much matter who's fault it was now," interrupted Violet. "Right now all that matters is finding this bloody shoe!"

"Watch your tone," warned Violet's mother. "Why don't you go upstairs and have another look?" Mrs. Dinell suggested.

"I just came from upstairs, and they weren't there, that's why I'm looking down here. Otherwise, I would've come down with two shoes on. But they're not here either."

"Maybe if I pull your ears hard enough you'll learn to listen," declared Mrs. Dinell, tapping her own ears. Violet was wise enough to know that there was no maybe.

Sighing, Violet rushed back upstairs, still hunting for the lost shoe. A scouring of her room revealed nothing. Stressed, she sat on her bed; it would be weeks before she'd see it again. 

"Find it yet?" Mr. Dinell was at the door, resting his hands on the top of the frame.

"No. And I daren't go back downstairs without them. Mum's gonna pull my ears." Violet groaned.
"Yeah, she's probably going to anyway. You should've-"

"What if nobody likes me at all?" Violet said suddenly. "I haven't been to a new school that I remember. All my friends are going to St. Christopher's down the road and I'm going to be a million miles away in a castle full of strangers."

"Don't worry, Vi. You're not going to be the only one in that position. In fact, very few people are actually going to know anyone. Not you though — you're going to be one of the lucky ones.  You know all the Weasleys, don't you? I hear Percy's a great student. New Gryffindor Prefect."

"Yeah, and there's that too. All this House stuff sounds scary. Maybe I'll just drop out of school and earn money by cross-dressing in Westminster."
"Do you want to go to Hogwarts?" Mr. Dinell inquired, the bed creaking and sagging under their now combined weight.

"More than anything."
"Are you going to go to Hogwarts?"
"Yeah... the train leaves in four hours."
"Have you already set your mind on going there?"
"Yes," answered Violet.

"Then there's no reason that you shouldn't go. Fear is but a pebble on the path to greatness. You're great, and even if you trip and fall, you get up and run faster. I love you, you're going to be absolutely fine."

Mr. Dinell reached a hand down under the bed, and produced an ankle boot.

"Yours, I believe?"

"You're magic, Dad," grinned Violet, taking the shoe with a word of gratitude.

An hour later and Violet stomached as much of the half of toast she had as she could. The idea of keeping anything down with the prospect of the next few weeeks was nerve-wracking. Her father and sister had left the table to finish putting Violet's things in the car — the car which held the name 'Muggle-mobile.'