COLORS-LIFE

The rest of the night was like a blur. She could barely remember climbing off the train. She didnt hear anything said at dinner. She didnt notice who was sorted into what houses. She grasped the Head Girl badge tightly in her fingers, running her firm skin against the shiny smooth metal. Everyone was dismissed. They all headed in a wave back to their common rooms. Hermione lingered and looked about her, taking in the last of the incredible smells from dinner. With a deep sigh she began to walk heavy-footed towards the Great Hall doors. She avoided Malfoy as much as possible. His full-moon-on-water eyes were challenging everyones opinion and

Hermione did not want to go to the Prefect compartment. Though Ron would be joining her, it would not be the same. She would be in command. He would not be able to speak to her, to whisper comforting or assuring things in her ear, and most of all Malfoy (the foul scum) would be at her side in Ron’s place. This was supposed to be her most glorious year. Ron a prefect, Hermione Head Girl, and Harry captain of the Quidditch team (as appointed the year before), they were all supposed to laugh and further procrastinate their thinking of Voldemort. His threat had been growing at a rapid pace, but Hermione did not like to think about that. She

The train approached her and she couldn’t peel her eyes away from it. It was as if the train from hell itself was coming just to wait for all the willing people to climb aboard. It would then take them down to the very fiery pits of the one place that caused people to fear doing evil. It would bellow and chug along the tracks with smoke pounding from the engine. The grill would seem to sneer at her, smiling, laughing at the fact that she was one of the innocents caught up in the storm, unwillingly forced into its cool depths to wait patiently for fate to swallow her whole. She swallowed and straightened her blouse. The train was suppose