I board the train with
my best friend, Lyanna, and another good friend of mine named Hannah Rose. She's as nervous as I am today. We're kind of
obscure students, we don't really know anyone, and we have to set a good
impression.
We enter the first compartment we can find. Inside is a
boy with dark hair and glasses, a freckly tall redhead boy, and a
vaguely pretty girl with bushy dark hair.

"Can we sit here?" I ask, adjusting my cat basket under my arm.
"Sure," says the redhead distractedly.
"I'm
Jamie," I say, not to be deterred. "Jamie Pevensie. This is Lyanna Le
Fay and Hannah Rose Duola. I'm a second year, so is Hannah. Lyanna, she's in your year, I think. I'm a Hufflepuff, Hannah's a Ravenclaw
and Lyanna's a Slytherin, but she's a sweetheart."
The girl beams,
displaying huge front teeth. "I'm Hermione Granger. That's Ron Weasley,
and the boy with glasses is Harry Potter."
Lyanna starts asking questions right away. "Do you guys have a Quidditch team?"
"We do," says Ron. He and Lyanna and Harry take up talking right away, leaving Hermione, Hannah, and I to chat.

I open my cat basket, and my fat fluffy cat climbs up onto my shoulders.
"Ooh, you have a cat? So do I!"
"Can I see yours?"

Hermione's cat is a big,
puffy orange thing who looks a bit like my cat, honestly. Her cat
(named Crookshanks) and mine (Captain Fuzzypants) bat at one another for
a little while, then curl up in their own separate corners of the
compartment. Then, we both break out books and begin to read a little
bit.

The compartment door
slides open, and everyone except for me and Lyanna groan. There are
three boys in the doorway, all glaring out at us. One of them, the one
in front, is tallish, with blond hair and grey eyes. The other two are
short, brown haired, and built like boulders. The blond curls his lip.

"Well, well, what have we here? The Mudblood, plus Potty and the Weasel." He turns to me, Hannah, and Lyanna. "And who are you three?"

I stand up and volunteer my name. "I'm Jamie Pevensie. I'm a second year." I wave in my friendliest way.

He considers this. "Your
father Kurt Pevensie?" I nod. "Married to Maria Boston?" Another nod.
"Blood traitor," he continues in a stage whisper.

There are intakes of breath all around me, but I don't flinch. I've been called worse. "Who are you?" I smile optimistically.

"The name's Draco
Malfoy. Who're your friends?" He gestures to Lyanna, who's still talking
Quidditch with the boys, and Hannah, who's reading furiously. but in a bit of a hushed voice.

"That's Lyanna Le Fay. She's a third year." I smile. "She's also my best friend. And that's Hannah Rose Duola, another of my best friends. She's a second year like me."

Malfoy sneers. "Best friends with a Mudblood? She's no better than the dirt on the ground."

I don't think, just do.
Before my brain can catch up to my actions, I've already slapped him
across the face hard enough to leave a red mark. I step back with my
hand pressed to my mouth. "I'm so, so sorry! I don't even know how that
happened."

He raises a hand slowly
to his cheek, as if to survey the damage. "You slapped me?!" He stepped
forward to where I sit, and looks like he's about to hex me with
everything he's got. "Little blood traitor brat, I'm going to make your
life a mise- GAAAH!"

He claps his hand to his
nose, yelping and running out of the compartment. Apparently, Lyanna
just hit him with a Bat Bogey hex. Those are painful.

"Did you hear what he
said?" Lyanna's face is white; she's twirling her hair, a nervous habit
she only ever does when things go really badly. "He said he was going to
make your life a misery."

I laugh awkwardly. "No, I
heard 'I'm going to make your life a- BLAH! What's this bloody stuff
coming out of my nose? My father will hear about this!'" I imitate his
upper-class British accent. Harry laughs and makes a funny face.

Hermione looks serious. "Jamie, you have to watch out. When Malfoy sets out to make someone miserable, he makes them miserable. He's got a load of influence."

I shrug. "Okay, let him hit me with his best shot. I'm stronger than I seem, you know."

Ron nods. "That boy's scary. I hate him, we all do, but it's the truth."

I shrug again and sit down once more. "Pevensies are made of stronger stock than that."

Hermione smiles at me pityingly. "Just...watch your back, alright?"

The train slows to a stop, and Lyanna presses her nose to the window glass. "Are we there yet?"

Harry's voice is tinged with worry. "No. Why are we stopping?"

The compartment door
slides open, and a cold breeze makes me shiver. Someone pokes their head
in- no, something. It's a hulking black shadow shape, cloaked in robes
that look like pure black mist. It seems to have no face, but as I watch
it extend a slimy, skeletal hand and draw a rattling breath. Lyanna
yelps in terror, and I can feel a sad, hopeless darkness filling the
compartment.

It looms over Harry,
reaching out for him with its emaciated hand. Harry curls into the fetal
position, and I feel a pang of despair. If Harry, the Chosen One, is
terrified, none of the rest of us stand a chance.

I suddenly remember a
spell my father taught me years ago, a guardian enchantment. He said
that I needed something to channel my happiness into. I try to conjure a
happy thought, something strong and powerful. The day my little brother
Conrad came home. I close my eyes and focus on the memory. His tiny
hands, the first time he smiled at me, the day he gave me the cutest
necklace he had made and that I still wear to this very day, made of
sparkly macaroni and pearly lentil-beans.

"Expecto Patronum!"

My cry is loud enough to
draw everyone's attention as a blob of silvery mist flies from my wand
and hovers over the dark, eerie creature. The thing reels back and then
heads towards me. My head is pounding, I can't take it anymore-

The black shrouded creature leans over me as I faint dead away.