The Slytherin Princess

TWO

POSTSCRIPT: I'm aware that this has changed to third person, I do apologize, I forgot, and honestly, I'm not going back to change every case and term in the last chapter so get used to it :))
Enjoy!! <3

Anthraxia Argent sat down on the Hogwarts Express, feeling triumphant. After the, admittedly, tiring barter with the man in the Magical Menagerie, she had air-kissed Pax (her security guard; her grandfather was terrified of Thraxia getting abducted, or murdered, or stolen by Death Eaters, or any other obscene ideology), and marched her way, cat basket in hand, to Platform 9 3/4. Her trunk lay comfortably in the luggage rack, looking out of place among the other battered leather cases; Grandfather had insisted she got custom black leather luggage, complete with the silver illustration of her initials on the side. Nothing but the best for his little darling, thought Anthraxia, rolling her eyes. He hadn't even been there to see her off.
She pushed the sour thoughts out of her headspace, and looked around. The compartment she had chosen was empty of students, although their cases told her they would be back soon.

A deep, humorous voice cuts through her musings.
"I can't believe Neville lost his toad again; honestly, that things invincible, I swear he loses it every year!"
Ronald Weasley slid open the door to the compartment, looking behind him. His mop of ginger hair shook as he laughed heartily.
"Honestly, Ronald, you'd think he'd just go Accio Toad, or keep it on a leash, the way he's going!" Hermione's voice chimed in, and Thraxia smiled. She liked the pair, they were a refreshing presence to be around. She was so used to being around only the richest, elitist, pure blood witches and wizards, and honestly, she preferred this.

"Oh! Hello Anthraxia! What a coincidence, we were sitting here! No matter, let's sit. You're new; it's only fair we show you the ropes."
He grinned impishly, and Hermione sat down next to Anthraxia, giving her a friendly smile.

"Thank you. Call me Thraxia. I would be honoured to be shown the ropes by you two."
She flashed them both a winning smile. Hermione Granger, however, looked a little perplexed.
"To be honest with you, Thraxia," she said, using her nickname,"You're a little surprising. Oh no! Not like that!", she hurried, after seeing the look on the other girls' face,"I meant that you aren't how I expected you to be. I mean, it runs in your family; the whole Slytherin, pure-blood, keep it that way mantra. I would have though that, seeing as I'm a mud blood, and Ron here is sort of a blood traitor, that you wouldn't have wanted anything to do with us."

Anthraxia cringed at the use of the word used against muggleborns. She had heard it far too much for her liking. However, she smiled. She'd been waiting for this one.
"My values are a little different. Don't get me wrong, I fully expect to be sorted into Slytherin, and I may be pure of blood, but one will find I care very little about wether or not others are; magic is magic, whoever it comes from. I have grown up with the prejudice against muggleborns being fed to me, apart from my Grandfather of course, but I don't partake in that side of being pureblood. I must admit, though. I am flattered. I like to surprise people." She looked up, and saw none other than Harry Potter standing in the doorway. He had a smile on his face, evidently having heard all of it. Harry took a seat across from Thraxia, smirking, and shot a glance at Ron and Hermione.
"I think you and I are going to be very good friends, Thraxia." He gave her a warm smile, and extended a hand. She took it firmly and they shook.
"Harry Potter. Any friend of a muggleborn is a friend of mine."

                                          ~

One hour later, and all was going swimmingly. The four of them were getting on like a house on fire; Thraxia soon learned that Harry and Ron were the jokers of the group, and Hermione was the grounding presence. Thraxia seemed to have the same calming effect, the yin and the yang working together perfectly. Even before the train had set off, they had received a noise complaint from the studious Ravenclaws in the next carriage, but to no avail. The comment was met by four rude gestures and fits of giggles. Immature, yes, but with them Thraxia felt giddy and childish. They had fun, something Thraxia never really had much of as a child, what with her only companions really being her Grandfather's ancient friends.
A knock on the glass panel roused them from their raucous fun.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?" An old woman with a sweet face and crinkling eyes looked hopefully at them.
"A Treacle Tart, please!" sang both Harry and Thraxia in unison, turning to each other in astonishment.
"That's my favourite!" breathed Harry.
"Me too!" giggled Thraxia. They smiled sunnily at each other, faces aching.
"That'll be one Galleon each, please," said the witch, handing over the small parcels wrapped in brown paper.
Harry handed over two Galleons.
"God, Harry no! I'll pay, my treat." begged Thraxia. He smiled, and shook his head.
"Don't worry about it. You'll just have to make it up to me." Harry winked, jokily. Nonetheless, Thraxia blushed a little. Harry was a good looking wizard, with clover green eyes, and sharp cheekbones. The fragrant smell of cinnamon and pastry woke Thraxia out of her stupor. What on earth was going on! They'd just met. She unwrapped her brown package, looking for a distraction. The train jolted slightly and continued on its way to Hogwarts. Thraxia stared out of the window, gazing at the lush green fields and forests of England below. Silver rivers and ivory cows drifted by, and Thraxia's head tilted back. She was exhausted. The train hurtled rhythmically, rocking her ever so slightly in her seat, and she was greeted with the warm anesthesia of sleep.

                                           ~