the lucky one

stinksap jealousy

september 1st, 1995

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"It's been great meeting all of you," Tonks hugs Hermione and Miranda goodbye. "We'll see you soon, I expect."

    A warning whistle sounds, "Quick, quick," Mrs. Weasley rushes distractedly, hugging them at random. "Write. . . . Be good. . . . If you've for- gotten anything we'll send it on. . . . Onto the train, now, hurry. . . ."

"Goodbye!" They all call out of the open window as the train began to move. The figures of Tonks, Lupin, Moody, and the Weasleys shrink rapidly.        The train is gathering still more speed, so that the houses outside the window flash past and they sway where they stand.

"Shall we go and find a compartment, then?" Harry questions.             Ron and Hermione exchange looks.

"Er," Ron blinks.

"We're — well — Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage," Hermione says awkwardly, looking to Miranda pleadingly for help. Ron isn't looking at either her or Harry; he seems to have become intensely interested in the fingernails on his left hand.

"Oh," Harry's jaw tenses. "Right. Fine."

"I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey," Hermione adds quickly. "Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time."

Gently, Miranda tugs on Harry's arm, "Let's go, Potter, we'll see our prefects later." She teases, "They're far too important to share a compartment with us ordinary people anyhow."

"Definitely," Ron chuckles lightly, casting a shifty, anxious look at Harry, who grins reassuredly. But as Hermione and Ron drag their trunks, Crookshanks, and a caged Pigwidgeon off toward the engine end of the train, Miranda sees something like loss pass over Harry.   

She squeezes his hand, leading him in the opposite direction, "Come on," Miranda tells him, "if we get a move on we'll be able to save them places."   

"Right," Harry picks up Hedwig's cage in one hand and the handle of his trunk in the other. They struggle off down the corridor, peering through the glass-paneled doors into the compartments they pass, which were already full. Miranda cannot help noticing that a lot of people stare back with great interest and several of them nudge their neighbors and point. She sincerely hopes that they do not believe anything the Daily Prophet prints, for Harry's sake. In the very last carriage they meet Neville Longbottom, his round face shining with the effort of pulling his trunk along and maintaining a one-handed grip on his struggling toad, Trevor.

"Hi, Harry," he pants. "Hi, Miranda . . . Everywhere's full. . . . I can't find a seat. . . ."

"What are you talking about?" Miranda squeezes past Neville to peer into the compartment behind him. "There's room in this one, there's only Luna Lovegood in here —"                     She slides the door open and pulls her trunk inside it. Harry and Neville follow. "Hi, Luna," Miranda waves. "Is it okay if we take these seats?"

     The girl beside the window looks up. She has waist-length, dirty-blond hair, very pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes that give her a permanently surprised expression. Her wand is stuck behind her left ear for safekeeping, she is wearing a necklace of butterbeer caps, and she is reading a magazine upside down. Without blinking, she nods.   

"Thanks," Miranda sidles into the compartment, smiling at her. Behind her, Harry and Neville file in with much trepidation, followed by Ginny who had spotted them from across the car.                    Harry and Neville stow the three trunks and Hedwig's cage in the luggage rack and sit down. Luna peers at them over her upside-down magazine, which is called The Quibbler. She stares and stares at Harry, who has taken the seat opposite her and from what Miranda could discern, is wishing he hadn't.