Running From Lightning

I had been waiting on the train for what seemed like hours. Nobody sat with me, which didn't bother me at all. I had never been much to socialize. I never really had much of a chance to.

"Ron, you don't just walk in. You ask first!" I felt my cheeks flush pink as someone at the sliding door walked into the compartment.
"Excuse me, but would you mind if we sit here? Every other compartment is full." I shook my head, looking down at the blue notebook I held in my lap. There was a pause
"I'm Hermione Granger, this is Ron, and Harry." Hermione said, sitting opposite me. I noticed two other people sit beside her.

"Hi." I said simply, maybe they would take the hint that I didn't want to talk.

"So, uh... you're a first year?" Hermione asked. "Ronald, the train has just left and you are stuffing your mouth with food. Slow down." I glanced up to see who she was talking to. A ginger, who I knew to be Ron Weasley. Then there was another boy who had black messy hair that went every which way, and bright green eyes which were framed by round, silver rimmed glasses. A lightning bolt scar was cut in his forehead, almost covered by his messy hair. This didn't surprise me. I knew who he was. Everyone did.

I shrugged to Hermione's question, "I guess you could call me a first year..." I said, looking at Hermione shyly through my long hair.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m… I’m going to be taking fourth year classes…” I shrank into my seat.

"What? Is that possible?" Ron asked, pausing as he was about to eat yet another chocolate frog.

"Really?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow curiously. "What's your name?"

I looked away for a moment, my cheeks flushing bright red.

The compartment door slid open. A pointy-faced boy with slicked back blonde hair strutted in, followed by two burly boys who looked like they traded their brains for their brawns.
“What’s this, Potter? Looking for condolences from a first year, now? This is just pathetic.”
“Yeah, I felt like being around someone intelligent for once after those times I spent with you last year.”
“Think you’re funny, Potter? I wouldn’t feel so high and mighty, especially since everyone thinks you’re a fraud. Honestly, did you think everyone would just magically believe that the Dark Lord was back because the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ said he was?”
“You shut your fat mouth, Malfoy!” Ron shouted.
“You’re the pathetic one! Prancing in here just so you can feel high and mighty!” Hermione said shrilly.
Malfoy smirked. “I came in here to show you this…” he took a newspaper clipping out of his pocket and threw it over at Harry and then walked out, his two goons following behind him, laughing as they went.
“’The Boy Who Lived finally lost it… haunted by his past, reliving the once locked-up memory of You-Know-Who…’ This rubbish sounds like Rita Skeeter.” Ron said, reading over Harry’s shoulder.
“Yeah, it does…” Harry said absently. He gave me a couple of glances. It seemed like he was still trying to figure me out. Hermione glanced out of the window.
“Looks like we’re almost at Hogwarts… we should change into our robes…” She looked over at me. “Do you know if you’re going on the boats, or if you’re riding the carriages?”
“I’m going on the carriages. Dumbledore said that would work out better seeing as I’m not being sorted.”
Ron almost spit out the Bertie Botts every flavor bean he’d been munching on.
“Not being sorted?”
I went back to looking at the floor again. My own shyness was beginning to surprise me. “Yeah… I’m in Ravenclaw already…”
“How did you already get sorted?” Ron asked. "I mean, I guess it makes some sense, you are taking advanced classes, but blimey, is it really possible to get sorted before?"
I bowed my head down. Before Ron could ask again, Hermione interrupted.
“Guys, we REALLY need to change. We’re not that far away.”
Hermione stood up. She was clearly irritated after the boy they called Malfoy had visited. "Come on, you can come with me to the ladies room." Hermione finally said, grabbing her suit case. I grabbed mine as well and followed her.
After we changed into our robes, Hermione and I started back to the compartment. She still seemed to be in a bit of a huff.

"He-Hermione, is he always like that?"

"Who? Ron? Yeah, he really is a dim minded idiot." She sighed, as she tightened her tie.

"No… Malfoy…" I asked, looking up to her.

Hermione frowned, "Don't take anything he says personally." She told me, and then paused for a moment. "Really though, how did you get sorted so soon?"

"Um, well I...um. It-it's kind of confusing, I suppose…" I stammered. I quickly looked for an excuse to stop talking. As if the train could read my thoughts, it halted to a stop, "Well, I'll see you around, Hermione..."

"No-no, why don't you ride the carriages with us?" She asked, "You're small. We can manage to get you on." She smiled.

"No, I'm fi-"

"No, I insist. I won't take no as for an answer." Hermione stated. Ron and Harry came in to view on the platform. "Ronald, Harry...she is going to go to the castle with us."

"Alright, it will give you time to tell us why you got sorted so soon." Ron grinned.

"Ronald." Hermione hissed, hitting his arm.

"And tell us your name." Harry said, flinching away from Hermione automatically.

"Ariana." I murmured, looking down at my feet.

"That's a pretty name." Hermione said softly.

"Still with a little first year, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, strutting past us. He turned to me. "You know, if Potter is actually threatening you to hang out with him for the company of having a friend, just let me know."

"Back off, Malfoy." Harry spat.

"What was that Potter?" He raised his eyebrows, amused. "If you ask me, Potter, Weasley, and the mudblood aren't worth your time."

I glared at Malfoy.

"Brainwashed already." He frowned. "What a shame."

I listened to Harry, Ron, and Hermione talk as we walked to the carriages. I didn't pay all that much attention.

"What's that?"

"What are you talking about, Harry?"

"That-- pulling the carriages!"

"There's nothing--" Hermione started.

"Thestrals. Thestrals pull the carriages at Hogwarts." I said instantly.

"Thestrals?"

"A Thestral is a breed of winged horses with a skeletal body, a face with reptilian features, and wide, leathery wings that resemble a bat's. They are very rare, and are considered dangerous by the Ministry of Magic. Thestrals are, undeservedly, known as omens of misfortune and aggression by many wizards because they are visible only to those who have witnessed death at least once (and fully accepted the concept) or due to their somewhat grim, gaunt and ghostly appearance. Thestrals can be domesticated and mounted, so they are used as an alternative to brooms, Apparition and other methods of transpo--"

"We, uh... we get it." Ron said with a look of complete surprise on his face. However, he didn't look as surprised as Hermione, who looked like she was going to faint.

"I can see them because I... because I saw... someone... die?" Harry asked.

My face was ablaze. I had to stop being such a know-it-all. I was embarrassing myself.

"Y-yes, basically..."

"I can see them, too." A girl said airily as she sat down in the carriage we were standing in front of.

No one said anything. A boy, one with a round face, walked over and sat by the girl. Seeing Harry, Hermione, Ron and I, his eyes suddenly got wide.

"Y-you don't mind me sitting here, do you?" He asked, suddenly becoming very worried.

"No... not... not at all." Hermione choked out.

The rest of us piled into the carriage. We didn't talk again until the carriages started moving.

"Ariana, this is Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood. She's in Ravenclaw, like you." Hermione said, seemingly having recovered from my previous outburst. She turned to Neville and Luna. "This is Ariana."

"Ariana?" Luna asked, her voice sounded airy and high. She had dull blue eyes, and long blonde hair. "Ariana Dumbledore?"

I quickly turned to look at the forest as my face began to burn... again.

"Dumbledore?" Hermione, Harry, and Ron all said, once again surprised.

"So, you're taking advanced classes, and you're Dumbledore's grand-daughter?" Ron asked.

I was having a hard time replying.