New School Year, Fast Asleep

[Riley McNeill]

The Hogwarts Express thundered through the countryside, the crimson carriages clattering in the wake of the powerful locomotive at the front. Most of the compartments were occupied by various students, eagerly chattering away, catching up with friends that they have not seen since the holidays. Though in one carriage the scene was remarkably reversed. The only sounds came from the sole occupant, who lay in a deep and firm sleep cuddled up in a small ball under a long green cloak, with her head on an arm's rest by the window. Near the girl lay a half eaten packet of cheese sandwiches.

Riley's sleeping face was mostly hidden by a flood of bright ginger hair which she had freed from the confines of her ponytail as she settled down for a nap. The journey down to London had been tiring, so since for the moment she had the place to herself, Riley decided to take advantage of the solitude and get some much needed sleep. It would not do to be yawning her way through the feast and assorted speeches in the Great Hall. No sense ending up on the teachers' bad sides already right?

She twitched gently in her sleep, the cloak rising and falling with her soft breaths. How long she remained asleep Riley could not have said, but the noise of someone opening the door to the compartment, disturbed her from her slumber. The door was a stiff one, so it rattled abominably whenever it moved. She let out a slight groan, blinking in confusion as the redhead lifted her head slowly. Riley brushed the hair from her face as she finally focused her gaze on the newcomer. "Oh hey..." The Scottish student yawned loudly as she indicated with a hand to the rest of the compartment. "Make yourselves at home, it's just..." Another yawn interrupted her. "It's just me."

[Kyle Winters]

Still confused over the incomprehensible whirlwind of events that caused him to be unceremoniously chased out from his compartment, Kyle wandered down the corridor like a lost puppy, looking for another compartment that had enough space to accommodate him temporarily. Earlier that day he had thought that it would be a quiet and uneventful ride on the Hogwarts Express to Hogsmeade station, but he was soon joined by a trio of excited and impressionable First-Years who bombarded him with questions about life at Hogwarts. Abruptly, at the mention of wands, one of the boys abruptly piped up about how he might have forgotten to bring – of all things – his wand.

Chaos and panic quickly ensued, with two of the First-Years rapidly emptying the contents of their bags onto the compartment’s seats and floor to check if there was anything else that could have slipped their minds. The third tried to talk sense into her friends, but the boys were too flustered to heed her words of reason. As the compartment was too cramped for the ill-conceived endeavour, the younger students asked if Kyle could leave the compartment for a few moments while they sorted out their little mess.

That had been a good quarter of an hour ago, and during the intervening time Kyle’s repeated offers to help were politely declined. Left with no options (and no seat), he walked down the corridor of the train carriage, his forearm crutches leaving little imprints in the carpeted floor. The next few compartments were all fully occupied, so he kept moving until he chanced upon one with only a single occupant whose face was obscured by her long ginger hair. She was probably asleep.

He would have moved on, had it not been for the approaching trolley witch whom he was clearly obstructing. Deciding to pop into the compartment just long enough to let the trolley witch pass, he pulled against the door, only to have it rattle loudly as it very slowly yielded. Chuffing hell… he swore under his breath at the offending door as the occupant began to stir, before looking up apologetically at the trolley witch, who was smiling and patiently waiting for him to get out of the way. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly with a little bow he quickly slipped into the compartment.

The redhead brushed her hair away from her face, revealing a familiar face. “Hi Riley,” he greeted, recognising her as his Quidditch team's Keeper. “Sorry for barging into your compartment and interrupting your sleep.” An explanation for his sudden appearance seemed to be in order, and he pondered about how he was supposed to summarise the rather convoluted story before deciding to give up and simply get straight to the point. “Um... long story short, I’ve been temporarily evicted from my seat. Would you mind if I hung around for a bit before going back?”

[Riley McNeill]

Riley yawned loudly, blinking the sleep from her eyes as she eventually focused and woke up enough to realize that one of her friends and fellow teammate had entered her compartment. "Hey..." The Keeper began, another yawn interrupting her again as she stretched, before slowly sitting up. "No... It is okay. I'm just tired from the journey down to London." She still wished that it was possible for her to merely fly all the way to Hogwarts. But she guessed there were countless laws forbidding such a thing, with lengthy prison time or heavy fines as a result. She wished that she was able to show off her magic or use it outside of Hogwarts, especially since using magic might make it easier to forge friendships with the nearby muggle children. However, her father had an extreme aversion to muggles so Riley therefore needed to stay away from them. At least at Hogwarts she happened to have friends.

"Sure, it's just me here." She explained, both looking and sounding sleepy still as if she had yet to fully wake up. "Make yourself at home. I haven't missed the lady with the food have I?" Riley asked, suddenly seeming to notice her left over sandwich again. This she seized, chowing down on it with a distinct lack of table manners. She abruptly appeared to realize that she indeed possessed company now and after swallowing, she proceeded to take more diplomatic bites. "I missed breakfast." Riley told him between mouthfuls. "It was way too early to eat when we had to leave." She smiled at him. "Looking forward to defeating the others houses in Quidditch this year?"

Riley lived for Quidditch, flying tended to be the one subject she was actually good at, unless getting into hot water counted. Whilst she held no animosity towards any of the other houses, even their own's arch rivals, she did still love to win. Even more so if a stellar performance by herself in goal helped secure that victory or at the very least disrupt the Chasers attempts to score.

[Sam Turner]

Sam was running late. Or, more accurately, her mother was.

It was the first of September, and the Hogwarts Express would be departing from King's Cross station in less than an hour's time. Sam checked her watch again, something she had been doing every five minutes for the last two hours while she paced around their small flat in Diagon Alley. "Come on, Mum…." she groaned, sitting down on her fully packed trunk that had been sitting at the top of the stairwell since the previous night.

Corrine, an ambitious reporter for the Daily Prophet, was still at the office racing against a deadline for an article for this evening's edition. It wasn't as though Sam needed Corrine to take her; she was sixteen now and quite capable to travel the short distance across London on her own. But her trunk was heavy, and she was still a year away from being allowed to perform magic outside of school to make it easier to carry.

Finally, at quarter past and still no sign of Corrine, Sam had no choice but to go on without her or else she would surely miss the train. Pushing her school trunk down the flight of stairs, Sam left it outside the front door as she darted back up to collect her orange tabby cat, Spud, who had taken refuge under the bed when he saw her coming. After wrangling the cat into a cloth carrier bag, Sam quickly scribbled down a note for her mother.

Mum,
I'm off to Hogwarts. I'll send an owl tomorrow. See you at Christmas.
Sam xx

By the time she had made it the short distance to King's Cross, Sam was red-faced, sweaty, and exhausted from the effort of dragging her trunk. The strap of the carrier bag had been digging uncomfortably into her skin, and she winced as she moved Spud to the other shoulder and glanced at her watch. With one minute until eleven, there was no time to catch her breath as she broke through the barrier separating platforms nine and ten.

With the Hogwarts Express due to leave at any second, the only person left on Platform 9 ¾ was a tired and miserable-looking Auror, who flicked his wand at her trunk upon seeing her struggle with it. "Thank you!" she gasped, lifting her now feather-light trunk onto the train and boarding easily just before the doors shut and the train began to move.

Sam was steady on her feet as she navigated down the corridor of the moving train. Finding her friends midway down the train, she forced her trunk into their already full compartment and sat atop it. An hour later, it was the raucous laughter from their compartment that caught the attention of a passing Auror who slid open the door a crack to peer inside. "You can't sit on your trunk," he grunted at Sam, who recognized him as the same Auror that had helped her earlier. "If there isn't a seat, you need to find another compartment," he ordered, and left before she could argue with him.

Sam said goodbye to her friends and then continued down the corridor with her trunk and Spud, stopping when she found a compartment with only two people inside. Sliding open the door, Sam said "Excuse me," just a voice inside said, "Looking forward to defeating the other houses in Quidditch this year?" Recognizing the two occupants to be on the Slytherin team and realizing that her polite greeting might be misinterpreted, Sam froze awkwardly in the doorway.

Given the conversation that she had just interrupted, Sam wondered if she would be unwelcome as a Chaser on an opposing team. With no other compartments left to sit in, however, she had no choice but to square her shoulders slightly and step inside. Wordlessly, and avoiding eye contact, Sam lifted her trunk into the overhead storage, and then sat down in the empty seat next to the red-headed girl. She nervously played with the straps on the carrier bag - Spud inside - on her lap before looking up at Kyle. "You can answer her question, you know. I don't mind," she said, her lips twitching with a smile.

[Kyle Winters]

Fortunately for Kyle, Riley didn’t seem to mind the intrusion too much, though he felt a small pang of guilt for interrupting her sleep. For those who lived far away from London and didn’t Apparate or use the Floo Network, the journey to King’s Cross Station could be quite tiring. “I can only imagine how bad it was,” he said with a helpless shrug. “I used to wake up at early in the morning to catch the first bus to the train station in Bradford. And Bradford’s not even that far from London.”

Perhaps there were some logistical or security concerns that led to Hogwarts requiring that every student board the train from London, but even then Kyle was certain that there was a better solution to the problem. “Surely it would make more sense to allow students living in Scotland and Northern England to board the Hogwarts Express at another station further up north?” His pent-up frustration from the past years was creeping into his voice and making his suggestion sound more like a rant than a rhetorical question. Abruptly aware of his undue outburst – he had Apparated to King’s Cross Station earlier today and was therefore able to sleep in later than usual – his face reddened and he hastily offered a quick apology to Riley, who in contrast had every reason to be mad about the subpar arrangement. “I’m sorry, I got a bit too worked up for no reason.”

When Riley asked if she had missed the trolley witch, Kyle shook his head. “Nah,” he replied. “She didn’t stop at any of the compartments, so I presume she’s going to start from the back of the train.” Just talking about the trolley witch was enough to spark a craving in Kyle. “I don’t know why but I suddenly feel like having a cauldron cake or two,” he confessed, as he called to mind the first time he had eaten one of those confections. “And I don’t even have a sweet too—” As he turned to look at Riley, the sight of her wolfing down her sandwich made him stop mid-sentence. “You’re really that famished?” he asked, and was surprised to learn that she hadn’t had breakfast yet. “Slow down, your butty ain't running away or anything,” he cautioned. “And you definitely don't want it going down the wrong way.”

Right then, the wonky door of the compartment screeched in protest as it was pulled open. “Excuse me,” the newcomer said, just as Riley asked if he was looking forward to beating the other houses in Quidditch. Of course he was, and that was what he was about to say when he recognised the newcomer as one of the Chasers from Gryffindor. Sam Turner, to be exact. Kyle was not proud of how he had a tendency to be a bit too… competitive when he was fighting with the opposing teams’ Chasers for possession of the Quaffle, and he didn't know what he should say so as to not offend anyone.

Seemingly unperturbed by the fact that there were two Slytherin students in the compartment, Sam proceeded to place her truck in the overhead storage and settled down on one of the unoccupied seats. “You can answer her question, you know. I don't mind,” she said, and Kyle was suddenly aware that he had been sitting there slack-jawed all this while. “Oh, um…” he fumbled clumsily for words – not just any words, but the right ones. “Er… well… yea… but that applies to all of us, right?” he finished. It came out really awkwardly, so he rambled on in an attempt to make his answer sound better. “I mean… all of us should give our all, right? We’d be disrespecting each other if we didn’t play to the best of our abilities.”

His excitement about the sport that he had come to love so much suddenly faded as it dawned on him that this was probably the last year that he’d ever get to play Quidditch competitively. “I’m gonna miss Quidditch so much after I graduate,” he mused wistfully, even though that hadn’t come to pass yet. “If I graduate, that is. N.E.W.T.-level classes are bloody tough,” he added with a gut-wrenching sigh that merely hinted at the amount of academic stress that he was expecting to suffer. “Enjoy your Fifth Year while you can, Riley,” he said as he turned to his younger teammate, “because it’s going to be a rough ride ahead for you.”

[Riley McNeill]

"Aye lad it is very tough." Riley confirmed, wishing there was an easier way for her to travel to school than all the way down to London. Still, it beat being stuck at home. "No need to stress over it, I understand. It's quite a frustrating problem but after a few more years... It's be a wee one since I might be able to apparate if I pass." Though it was still some years away for the present. Besides, her parents left her with a warning, if she did not shape up at school, they would pull her out. The honour of the Mcneill family name, never have they been so ashamed, etc etc. The usual parent stuff. At least they liked her Quidditch performance and were pleased she was a Slytherin.

"Dang, going to have to wait." She mumbled around a mouth of food. "Yes... I haven't had any breakfast. I cannot eat at the same time the cockerels are just waking up." Riley smiled at his warning, but deliberately slowed her pace down when it came to eating.

It seemed that they would not have the compartment to themselves for much longer as another student soon entered it. Riley recognized the woman as one of the chasers belonging to Gryffindor but she could not recall if they had ever been introduced. On the field, Riley despite being chatty tended to be rather competitive and highly motivated to win. She flashed her what she hoped was a friendly grin. "Come on in." It was nothing personal against the other houses, she merely needed that win. But there was something about blocking goals from Gryffindor which hit that sweet spot. But she supposed the root of that could be found in the house rivalry. Off the field, she even had a few friends in Gryffindor. Mainly one of the boys' who sucked almost as bad as she did at potions. The pair shared their own table at the back of the class where their attempts at potion making were usually disastrous.

"You should try out for one of the teams." Riley insisted, that was her plan. Play Quidditch professionally, since it appeared to be the only thing she was any good at. Besides getting into trouble. "I'll try to, just be sure to swing by to remind me of that when I'm inevitable in a detention for reasons I don't understand." She countered, last year had been pretty fun despite the awkwardness of being introduced as the single stranger amongst a crowd of friends. This year she at least knew people already.

[Sam Turner]

While the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor still existed, it was nowhere near as bad as it had been in the past. Nevertheless, there were still a few students who held onto the old grudge, and Sam was always prepared to face hostility from Slytherins that she did not know. These two, however, seemed to be perfectly friendly, and after a few minutes, Sam began to relax -- at least, as much as she could in the presence of strangers. "You bet," she said in agreement with Kyle's statement about playing to the best of their abilities on the Quidditch pitch. She enjoyed playing with her friends, but nothing could compare to the thrill of playing against evenly-matched players.

Unsure as to whether or not she was included in the conversation between the two Slytherins, Sam looked down at Spud in his carrier and tried not to eavesdrop. In spite of this, Sam found herself nodding sympathetically when the two began to discuss the challenges of the fifth and seventh years. Thinking about the start of term, Sam remembered the letter she had received over the summer about a Seer coming to teach at Hogwarts. "Oh, did either of you sign up for Divination?" she asked. "I did, but I don't know if it's for me. I just wanted to drop Astronomy and History of Magic, but my Mum wants me to get at least seven N.E.W.T.s."

Feeling as though she was speaking entirely too much, Sam fell silent again and looked out the window, her eyes widening in alarm to catch sight of her reflection. No doubt thanks to her journey to King's Cross, Sam's fringe had been plastered against her forehead from sweat, and Sam cursed herself for not fixing it when she had noticed it the first time. Her appearance didn't seem to matter as much when she had been with her friends, but now she surreptitiously smoothed the hair away from her face whenever she thought that no one was looking at her.

It was Riley's suggestion for Kyle to try out for professional Quidditch that Sam broke her gaze away from her reflection, her hair only partially fixed. "Play professionally?" she asked eagerly, unable to resist joining the conversation. "I can't even imagine," she said wistfully. While nepotism pretty much guaranteed Sam a job with the Daily Prophet, Sam had no interest in journalism beyond occasionally writing for the school newsletter – and even then, she only joined the Hogwarts Times to make Corrine happy. "Are you guys going to try out?" she asked.

[Kyle Winters]

“Just two more years,” Kyle replied. Riley was in her Fifth Year, and with luck she’d be able to Apparate to London by the time she was a Seventh-Year like he was now. “I just thought of this: there’s nothing stopping an adult or someone else from using side-along Apparition to bring you to King’s Cross Station,” he piped up. “My parents are Muggles so I’ve had to travel the Muggle way, but surely your parents would be able to help? Or at the very least, you could use the Floo Network or summat.”

He chuckled at Riley’s comment about eating at the same time the cockerels were waking up. It was such a strange but funny way to describe the unpleasantness of waking up at an ungodly hour. “Same,” he nodded emphatically. “Even if I were awake enough to try to eat, my stomach’s would probably still be asleep.” He contemplated what it'll be like if stomachs really could fall asleep, and what would happen if one tried to eat under those circumstances. The mental image in Kyle's head was rather icky, and he scrunched up his face in disgust at what his overly-imaginative mind showed him.

Sam, the Gryffindor Chaser, nodded as Kyle told Riley to enjoy her Fifth Year while she could, and it occurred to him that Sam was a Sixth-Year now, which meant that it was her turn to be in for a rough ride. Even though they were in rival houses, Kyle saw no reason to not wish her well for the upcoming school year. “Best of luck, Sam,” he said to her. “I don’t know what your grades are like, but odds are you’re gonna need it.”

When Sam asked if they had signed up for Divination classes, he nodded. “I had hoped it’ll be useful.” His eyes widened when Sam talked about how she was expected to take seven N.E.W.T.-level subjects. “That’s a lot,” he remarked as he recalled how tough the last school year had been for him. “I wasn’t intending to take Divination actually, but I was talking into giving it a shot. That was my seventh subject. Chuffin’ hell… what was I thinking.” But what’s done was done, and he’d have to pay the price for his poorly thought out decision. “No backing out now,” he said with a resigned, mirthless laugh before turning to Sam. “It’ll be a rough ride, but try not to stress yourself out too much.”

Riley’s suggestion about playing Quidditch professionally didn’t sound like a bad idea. If anything, he reckoned he’d be more likely to become a professional player than an Auror, given how stringent the requirements were for the latter and what his grades were currently. “Hmm…” he bit on his lip as he pondered over the issue. “I might…” he finally answered somewhat tentatively, before he reaffirmed his stance. “I probably should,” he said a lot more firmly and confidently. “How about y’all?” he asked both Sam and Riley. “Or do you already have something else in mind?”

[Riley McNeill]

At the question about Divination classes Riley shook her head sadly. "No I can't say I did. They're probably by two worst subjects potions and Divination." She honestly wondered if the magic to foresee the future was little more than an inventive scam, the only thing she appeared able to predict were the potential places a chaser might throw the ball. But that was less magical foresight and far more her successful reading of the other player, things like body language, where their eyes were actually looking, that kind of thing.

As Kyle mentioned other ways to travel, Riley shook her head. "I get sick being dragged along apparating and my father's too paranoid to be connected to a floo network." At the mention of food again, the petite redhead glanced hopefully at the door, wondering if the lady with her cart burdened with all that delicious food was coming by.


She remained silent when the other girl mentioned her mother wishing for her to get seven N.E.W.T.s. Her own expected her to get all of them, the best possible grades because the McNeill family had to be better than the best. Unfortunately for her parents, the only particular subject their daughter excelled at happened to be Quidditch. She smirked at Kyle's reaction to having taken Divination, clearly he had not foreseen this. But surely such a subject was guess work to begin with, maybe the pair of them could make things up? Was that not how it worked? She however stayed silent, since she lacked any talent for the subject, usually dozing off as a result of the hot and stuffy classroom.

"Of course." Riley beamed at the pair of them, eagerly imagining trying out for a professional team. "Hoping to one day end up in a national team and play in the world cup." Of course that would no doubt, not be for many years, but if you were good at one thing in particularly, might as well go in all the way right?

[Sam Turner]

Sam felt pleased that Kyle would be in class with her for the first time, considering he was a year above. She wasn't entirely sure why – she barely knew him - but reasoned that she was a little apprehensive about taking a subject in which she knew nothing, and it wouldn't hurt to have a friendly face in the classroom with her. "I don't think Divination will be that difficult," she mused in a hopeful tone as Kyle despaired that it would be his seventh class. "Since we'll be lumped in with the third years, right?" The letter that had been sent home in the summer stated the elective subject will be open to all years for now. But as she spoke, her face fell slightly, what if Professor Lockwood gave different assignments based on their year? Well, no sense worrying about it now, she could always drop it if it didn't suit her; she would deal with Corrine's disapproval later.

When the question about playing Quidditch professionally was redirected back to her, her mind was swimming with her answer. "I want nothing more than to play professionally. I mean, it's really the only thing I'm good at. But I went to the Quidditch world cup last year – we always get tickets because of my Dad – and the players are so talented. We are too, but we're just a bunch of kids, aren't we? But with a professional trainer….? Who knows what we're capable of?" Instead, she shrugged noncommittally and mumbled something about joining the family business. "But…" she began before her words were interrupted by the door of the compartment sliding open and Sam turned to see the trolley witch smiling at them.

"Anything off of the trolley?" the kind witch asked the three students.

"Yes," Sam said at once, her stomach growling loudly in anticipation; she had been too worried this morning as she waited for Corrine to eat a proper breakfast. As the other two put their orders in, Sam shifted the cat carrier off of her lap and reached for her backpack. As she opened the bag and began to dig through it in search of her coin purse, her stomach lurched with the recollection that she had spent the last of her gold on this year's school supplies. Corrine had meant to give her some spending money to take to Hogwarts – but as usual, had forgotten.

Angry tears formed in Sam's eyes, and she quickly blinked them away. She was more upset with herself than she was with her mother; she was quite old enough to visit their vault in Gringotts by herself – they lived in Diagon Alley for crying out loud – but had neglected to do so. Locating a single Sickle at the bottom of her bag, Sam approached the trolley witch. "Um… is this enough for a bar of Honeydukes chocolate?" she asked quietly, recalling the price it had been in Hogsmeade and hoping there weren't any additional convenience charges.

[Kyle Winters]

As the other students shared their differing views on how difficult Divination would be, Kyle found himself unable to come to a clear conclusion on the matter. “I certainly hope so,” he replied to Sam. “But I’ve heard that only a small minority of people are blessed with the gift to see the future. A talented Third-Year will blow us all out of the water.”

Nonetheless, he didn’t think that Hogwarts would start a new class that most students would fail because they weren’t born with the correct gift. “Still, there’s got to be some technique or summat that we can use to make up for our lack of the Inner Eye, right?” he asked, hoping that the others would be more familiar with how Divination worked. Though he was the oldest of the trio, he was also the only Muggle-born, and there was still much about magic and the wizarding world that he didn’t know.

He shrugged helplessly when Riley explained why she couldn’t use the Floo Network or ask someone to Apparate and bring her along. “That’s rough,” he said, unable to think of any other solution to her problems. At least, as he had mentioned earlier, she would be able to earn her Apparition license in a couple of years’ time.

Riley’s excitement about playing Quidditch professionally was infectious, and Kyle found himself seriously considering that option. While he had wanted to become an Auror to help people, he could still do so as a Quidditch player too; there were many professional athletes who spoke out about social issues, donated to charities, and inspired those who looked up to them as role models. His thoughts were interrupted as the compartment door slid open, revealing a friendly and familiar face. “Anything off of the trolley?” the trolley witch asked in a kindly voice. That was the moment all three of them were waiting for. “Yes, please,” he said at the same time as Sam, but he hung back and took a moment to check how much money he had in his wallet so that the others could get their food first.

Something felt a little off when Sam spent a little too long searching inside her backpack, and sure enough it seemed that she only had a Sickle on her person. “My treat,” he interjected as he picked up one of his crutches and moved over to join Sam. “Do you want anything, Riley?” he asked as he perused the contents of the trolley, extending his offer to his teammate so that Sam wouldn't feel uncomfortable about him jumping in and offering to pick up the bill for her. Turning back to Sam, he asked, “Is that really all you’re having? We’re still a long way from Hogsmeade Station, y’know.”

[Riley McNeill]

"I suppose it depends on whether or not you have the Sight or the Gift or whatever it is that allows you to see into the mystic realm of the future." Riley joked playfully with a small smile on her face. Whilst she might not be any good at the subject if her two current companions were or at the very least enjoyed it then she would be nice about her opinions. Again, it probably did not help that the atmosphere of the Divination classroom appeared to be one of the best sleeping aids for the petite redhead. No matter what she tried in order to stay awake in the class, she either dozed off or her attention drifted to literally anything else.

"Aye it is." The young woman agreed, trying to ignore the unwelcome memory of spilling her guts repeatedly in London. Nothing like being ill to put her off of the enjoyment of getting her first ever set of supplies for a year at Hogwarts.

The Trolley Witch arrived and Riley's face beamed with delight, though her stomach let out a growl before she even managed to voice a response. She blushed and to cover her embaressment she immediately started to fish through her stuff in the search for the small cloth bag her father gave her with some money for the journey to Hogwarts. The McNeill's might be a wizarding family in decline, they may have long ago lost their magical surname, but they still retained the family's fortune. Besides, her father had insisted on her having the money, as if wealth could buy friends or money could buy better behaviour in school from his only child.

"Oh... I can get stuff for you guys if you want? My father's given me way too much money again..." She trailed off blushing and shuffling awkwardly in her seat. "I mean you can buy me something if you want Kyle and I can buy some things for the two of you?" She suggested, already mentally going over the list of items she wanted, cakes, pasties, pumpkin juice, chocolate, not the beans, God never the beans.

[Sam Turner]

The trolley witch had been shaking her head in response to Sam's question about the price of the Honeydukes chocolate when Kyle called out that it was his treat. Flattered that he would be so kind to her, she smiled and blushed, grateful that he could not see her face. Then, as her low self-esteem convinced to her consider ulterior motives, her smile slowly faded into a look of horror.

Was he only offering because he overheard her question and thought she was poor? No, that's crazy, he's just a nice guy, she reasoned with herself to little success. Then came Riley's turn to offer and the mental argument replayed itself in her mind, further reinforcing her self doubts. Undecided as to what to think but fully aware she needed to answer, Sam blurted "Oh, thanks, but I'm not very hungry," just as her stomach growled loudly. She closed her eyes as if blocking out her senses could help ease her embarrassment.

Sam took a bracing breath. "I mean… all right, yeah, I am hungry," she admitted in what she hoped was a casual tone. Her mouth felt very dry. Would a pumpkin juice be cheaper than a chocolate bar? She swallowed and continued, her words coming out in a ramble. "I spent the last of my gold on new robes for this year. Old ones were too short," she added, lest they think she spent frivolously when really she had grown five inches in two years and new robes were a necessity. "I meant to go to Gringotts, but I forgot. And there's really no excuse because I live in Diagon Alley. Except my mum and I have a tradition that on September first, we go to Gringotts, and have breakfast together at the Leaky Cauldron before heading to King's Cross. We do it every year. Until this morning. She was busy. She's a reporter for the Daily Prophet, you might… have read… um … some of her work...."

Sam trailed off lamely, finally listening to the voice in her head that had been screaming STOP TALKING! somewhere around 'new robes'. She wanted to return to her seat - better yet - she wanted to leave the compartment altogether. But she'd need to collect Spud, and her trunk, and by that point running away would only add to her humiliation. Shaking the tension from her shoulders, Sam mentally practiced her next words. Summoning her courage, she took a deep breath and said, to no one in particular, "I'll pay you back if I could please get a pumpkin juice, chocolate frog and a box of Bertie Bott's?"

[Kyle Winters]

Kyle was hoping that his offer to foot the bill for all the snacks would go uncontested, but the other two wouldn’t let him have his way. Riley piped up about how she could treat the others too because her father had given her too much money again, a situation which Kyle could relate to despite his family background. In his case, it wasn’t his father who was overly generous, but his late best friend’s uncle; feeling bad about the accident that happened four years ago, Osman had tried to make up for it by providing him with much-needed financial aid for his medical bills. “Or you could save up for a new broom or summat,” he suggested to Riley. “I heard there’s a new broom that’s going to be launched later this year or early next year.”

Sam went for a different tactic and initially denied that she was hungry, only to backpedal on that when her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl. Nervously, she then rambled on about how busy her mother was, and why she didn’t have any money on her person currently. “Work is important after all,” he said matter-of-factly with a nonchalant shrug. “Anyway, we wouldn’t be spending much money once we reach Hogwarts. If you’ve already got everything you need for school, there’s naught to worry about.”

Ultimately, Sam relented and requested for some snacks, but she still offered to pay him back later. “Please, let me do the honours,” Kyle insisted yet again, shifting closer to the Honeyduke’s Express trolley to better intercept the others should they attempt to stop him. “It’s my last year at Hogwarts, and this is probably the last time I’ll get to do this.” As he perused the trolley, he mentally tallied up the costs of the various items and converted the amount from Galleons to pounds. Confident that he could easily afford the treats, he asked Riley and Sam, “Shall we get a bit of everything? Or is there anything that you'd like more of?”

[Riley McNeill]

"That must be quite cool seeing her articles in the paper every morning." Riley commented, though she decided to keep to herself that she only typically bothered with the Daily Prophet when the Quidditch season was in full swing. After all, she needed to stay in the loop, some of those players may be future rivals or teammates.

"True." Riley nodded her head the once in acknowledgment of Kyle's point, though she currently believed that she did not need another broom. There was nothing wrong with her with the one she had, the broomstick was extremely agile and responsive, true on the straights it could be outpaced by other brooms. However, as a keeper, she did not need to come out of goal too often. "Yeah it beats getting a howler from home because we forgot something or neglected to pick something up in the morning." The redhead chuckled, it was not something which had happened to her, so far at least. She got howlers for other reasons, usually due to her winning the most detentions in a single year award.

"Okay, fine you can do it, just a bit of everything. Though the first round of Butterbeer in Hogsmeade is on me." Riley promised, not wishing to think about losing a friend after the year. Worse his leaving meant they would be recruiting for a replacement player, rarely were they better than the guy or girl who left.

[Sam Turner]

Sam hesitated, contemplating the compelling points Kyle made in favour of a candy spree, but also grappling with her own feelings of embarrassment due to her lack of gold and her reluctance to appear greedy. But with Riley now on board with the idea - offering to return the favour in Butterbeer - the collective enthusiasm began to chip away at Sam's reservations. "All right, go on then," she relented with a grin at the both of them. "Am I the only one here that actually likes the Chocolate Frogs?" she asked, well aware that the animated appearance of the chocolate treats often caused mixed reactions among her friends.

Unsure of the extent to which Kyle intended to splurge, Sam lingered near the compartment doors, ready to offer an extra pair of hands to transport the treats back to their seats. While Kyle busied himself with the transaction, Sam seized the opportunity to observe him up close, a perspective she seldom saw outside of Gryffindor vs Slytherin matches. Now, without the desire to steal the Quaffle from his grasp, Sam couldn't help but acknowledge that Kyle was rather handsome. Had she really never noticed it before?

Even with this newly discovered attraction, Sam felt her remaining nerves and embarrassment begin to fade away as they settled into their seats with their candy haul. Popping open the lid of her pumpkin juice, Sam looked around the compartment, realizing that what had once been a source of awkwardness now seemed far less intimidating. She had to admit, though, it did feel odd to be getting on so well with individuals, who, under different circumstances, were her rivals. "Cheers," she said, smiling widely at the group and taking her first sip.

After her earlier ramblings about her mother's line of work, Sam had been more than happy to let the subject drop. Fueled by newfound confidence, however, she found herself replying to Riley's remark about seeing her mother's name in the paper every morning. "I actually don't read Mum's articles," Sam confessed with a wry, guilt-tinged smile. "She does Whispers & Witchcraft: Corrine Riley's Enchanted Celebrity Secrets. I mean, she's a great writer," Sam quickly added, feeling disloyal. "And she has interviewed some really cool people." She just doesn't ask them anything interesting, Sam thought grimly. "But I don't bother with that rubbish."

A brief moment of contemplative silence settled over Sam as she considered her father, Lucas Turner - the figure responsible for the semi-famous (at least in the Quidditch world) weekly column in the Daily Prophet. While she was mindful to not appear overly self-promotional, her earnest pride in her father's achievements and his contributions to sports journalism encouraged her to share with her new friends. "You might be more familiar with my Dad's work," she began her tone a mixture of pride and caution. "He's the voice behind Turner's Quidditch Chronicles."

[Kyle Winters]

As a Muggle-born, getting howlers from home was something Kyle hadn’t experienced before despite him being just as good as Riley at earning detentions, no thanks to Percival Scranton. He wanted so badly to wring that shitehead’s neck every time he saw his ugly mug, and needless to say he had acted upon that impulse many times. In fact, two years ago he had, in a fit of anger, almost roasted that pure-blood jerk literally with the Fire-Making Charm.

Just thinking about Percival was enough to make Kyle’s blood boil, and he hastily purged those thoughts from his head before they ruined his mood. Riley and Sam agreed to his plan to have a bit of everything from the Honeydukes Express, though the former insisted that the first round of Butterbeer in Hogsmeade would be on her. “That’s fine by me,” he nodded, but whether or not he would honour that promise, however, remained to be seen. And when Sam asked if she was the only one here who liked Chocolate Frogs, he made a face as he recalled the first time he encountered those fidgety confections. “Can’t say I love them,” he confessed. “They do taste good, but I’m not used to seeing my food wiggle and jump. You can have mine if you’d like; I’ll just stick to Freddos.”

After making the payment, Kyle accepted from the trolley witch a healthy (or rather, unhealthy) portion of snacks. Most of them were in loose boxes and packets, so he began to arrange the more conveniently shaped boxes into a manageable stack that would be easier to convey into the cabin. Abruptly he was aware of someone’s gaze, and as he looked up he found Sam’s eyes on him. Oblivious to the reason why, he looked at her blankly and blinked a few times. “Do I have something on my face?” As cliché as it sounded, it was the only explanation he could think of.

“Oh, could you help me with these? Thanks.” he asked as he handed the neat stack of boxes to Sam. Gathering the remaining treats and the bottles of pumpkin juice into a pile, he scooped up the entire mass using his long arms and hugged them close to his chest. Thus emburdened and unable to use his crutches properly, he instead did a one-legged shimmy back to his seat before unloading the treats.

Grabbing a bottle of pumpkin juice for himself, he popped off the pumpkin-shaped lid and took a sip. “Cheers,” he said, returning Sam’s toast before taking a sip of the juice—and almost choked and spilt his drink when she praised her mother for being a great writer while dismissing her writing as “rubbish” in the same breath. “I… read her articles,” he revealed somewhat sheepishly, uncomfortably aware that many would see his apathy towards current affairs and other ‘important’ matters as a bad thing. “I always skip past the boring news and go straight to the interesting bits.”

Needless to say, those bits included Quidditch news, which Kyle eagerly kept up with. “Hang on… your dad’s Lucas Turner?” he asked in astonishment. “Your mum’s Corrine Riley, and you write for The Hogwarts Times…” It was only then did the very much overdue realisation dawn upon him. “Chuffin’ heck… Why hadn’t I figured this out earlier?” Turning to his teammate and hoping that it wasn’t just him who was slow on the uptake, Kyle asked, “Did you know about this already, Riley?”