𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟑 - 𝟏

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I had changed over the summer. Or maybe a better word would be matured. 

My face was thinner, jawline sharper. My chest had rounded. My stomach was smaller and my hips were larger. Mother had begun to sit with me, telling me I was a woman now. Telling me I had to be careful now.

Draco was different too, in little ways. His was officially taller than me. His face was handsome and honed. Sophisticated. 

And yet I was still surprised when I walked onto the train how many eyes followed me. They devoured me. Feeling uncomfortable, I made it my main purpose to find my friends. After a while I saw Hermione's hair out of the corner of my eye, never hard to miss. 

The second I opened the door, she jumped up in delight and squeezed me. 

"Oh, Alexandra, I've missed you so much," she beamed. 

"Have you styled your hair, Hermione?" I asked, and she blushed. "It looks gorgeous."

When she stepped away to allow me to sit, my eyes instantly found Potter's. I smiled, and he turned crimson. 

I also noticed there was someone else in the compartment. He looked older, like an adult, and he was asleep. 

"Potter. Get into any trouble in the three months we weren't babysitting you?" I said quietly, not wanting to wake the man. 

"Well... I blew up my aunt," he answered. His voice had changed. 

My mouth fell open. "You're not serious."

"He's definitely serious. My dad said the Ministry of Magic had to go and deflate her," Weasley confirmed. The only change in him was that the spatter of freckles across his nose had grown. 

"Do you think he's really asleep?" Potter asked, nodding to the man.

"I think so," Hermione answered. "Why?"

"I've got to tell you all something," he said, closing the compartment door.


"Let me get this straight," I said, once Potter had finished telling us his story. "Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban to come after you?"

The rain was pelting against the windows so hard, it almost sounded like hail. 

"Yeah."

"But they'll catch Black, won't they?" Hermione questioned. "I mean, everyone's looking for him." 

"Sure," Weasley agreed sarcastically. "Except no one's ever broken out of Azkaban before. And he's a murderous, raving lunatic."

"He's also my second cousin," I muttered.

"What?" Potter asked in shock.

"He's my mother's first cousin. So my second cousin," I explained.

"That's..." Hermione began, but she was interrupted by a screeching sound, like the brakes of the train being hit suddenly. 

"Why are we stopping?" she asked hurriedly. "We can't be there yet."

Potter opened the compartment door again and stuck his head out, but was thrown back from the force of the train's violent shaking, landing on my lap. 

"Seriously, Potter?" I asked.

"Sorry," he mumbled. 

There was a loud rumbling.

"What's going on?" Weasley asked, holding his pet rat Scabbers up to his chest in fear.

"Don't know. Maybe we've broken down," Potter offered, recovering from his fall. On me. Just then, the lights went out.

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