ɪᴍᴘᴀꜱᴛᴏ • ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ᴡᴇᴀꜱʟᴇʏ

I

"Welcome Home."

The platform was as crowed as ever at the start of that September.  Many wizarding families stood cramped together, inspecting their children - probably to make sure they had everything they needed.

A small, wild haired girl made her way through the crowd, weaving herself through with a slight bounce in her step. Her fingers held the colours of the sky and the warming light of the sun. Clutched in her paint, caked hands was a small notebook that seemed to be falling apart the longer the girl had it in her possession. In her other hand she held her owl, Athena, who was currently, in the girls opinion, very dramatically squawking.

Naveah Williams had tried her hardest to calm the bird, speaking soft words to it as she pushed past the smiling faces of proud parents and finally stepping onto the train, filing into an empty compartment.

She quickly took her seat, opening her book eagerly. Naveah glanced onto the platform where she scanned the various options that could offer her some inspiration. Her eyes flickered over the faces and it didn't take long for her movements to come to a halt as the infamous red hair of the Weasleys could be seen bustling amongst the chaos.

There she had seen, towering very much over their family members, George and Fred Weasley whom the curly haired girl made the acquaintance of in first year when she was smothered with snow during one of the twins' snowball fights.

The memory was still a sore one.

However, she couldn't deny the change of the twins over the summer. Their hair was longer now, sitting just above their shoulders and they both seemed more lean then previous years. The inspiration was there, and Naveah quickly got to work, her hand rapidly moving, eyes quickly fluttering between her battered book and back to his figure.

She defined his features with the pencil and created the light in his eyes. She counted all the differences and saw beauty in them.

•••

Once the train had started moving, Naveah was joined by two of her peers and she couldn't help but be thankful for their company.

Astrid Lynn was a loud girl, her hair was a light auburn colour and she always had a glint of mischief in her dark eyes. Naveah couldn't count the number of detentions this girl had had during her six years at Hogwarts, but the numbers were forever rising yet the gryffindor never was expelled.

For what reason? The world would never know.

Ian Miller was tall boy, reaching at about 6 foot with a mop for hair on his head. It was shaggy and curled into perfect ringlets that seems to soften his ever set frown upon his face. Ian was, surprisingly, a hufflepuff.

"Naveah, hun, you might want to wash your hands before we reach the school."

Astrid had always told her that it wasn't, always, a good look to have paint smeared on her hands, especially during meals throughout the day.
              
Naveah's excuse, however, was primarily just the fact that she would forget. She had a knack for painting. Her inspiration for paintings never seemed to stop - she never seemed to know how to stop. Once she started, everything came from there and she wouldn't be able to come to a pause unless she was pulled away from her paints.