Our Little Cliché- A Jily and Remus/OC Story (Harry Potter)

Greetings! I Exist!

Nette POV

I peered around the platform, trunk in hand. Damn, that train was massive. I hadn't bothered with a trolley because I had so little possessions, but I might need help getting through this. The entire platform was teeming with people, and I found it terrifying. A boy that looked about my age made eye contact and started towards me.

"You new?" I was very good at reading people. Everything about this boy, from his new clothes to his drawl to his incredible good looks screamed Ladies' Man. That was probably how he had noticed me, the new face out of roughly 2000 others. I tried very hard to stifle an eye roll, but failed.

"Kind of obvious" I replied. The boy's face fell at my nonchalant answer. What, did he think I was going to be? His new, idiotic date? I hadn't had a boyfriend, well, ever. And I wasn't even sure if I wanted one.

"Name?" Somebody's sentences needed a little brushing up on. He talked like a questionnaire.

"Nette, Nette Claireroy," I said shortly. Why was I telling him my name? Stupid, stupid Nette.

"D'you want to sit with me and my friends?" he asked abruptly.

"I don't even know you," I told him. He shrugged, a lazy grin on his face.

"Sirius Black, only Gryffindor in the family, disowned fifth year for being a Gryffindor so technically they're not my family," he said quickly. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Black?" I repeated skeptically. The Black family was well known for their tendencies of wealth, incest, and general insanity. "Why on Earth do you want me to sit with you?"

"I thought that answer was obvious," he said. "Don't want you- or anyone for that matter- falling in with them." He waved a hand across the platform, gesturing towards a small group of students that could very easily be related to him if not for the difference in uniform colouring. "Slytherins. Obsessed with the Dark Arts, hellbent on becoming Death Eaters, and so help me Merlin, if you are a muggleborn, halfbreed, or anything if the like, better stay out of the dungeons alone."

Rebel. Go figure. "Don't generalize an entire house, it's prejudiced."

He shrugged. "Learn for yourself. Ask Mary McDonald. I'm just saying, you want to be careful around that lot." I rolled my eyes and decided to follow Sirius.

He helped me get my trolley on the train, which was nice enough. All for my so-called werewolf strength, that thing must have weighed a ton.

Many of the students we passed sent Sirius winks or waves, and Sirius waved back jauntily. The popular kid. Oh, joy.

We reached the compartment door. It had some barely intelligible graffiti scratched in at the top. I tried to decipher it, but the chicken scratch handwriting was too much. He slid open the door.

"Ladies first!" he exclaimed.

"Would you like a curtsey, then? Or would a shoe-kissing do it?" Sirius snickered and waved me in. Tosser.

I saw two boys, a chubby one staring out the window, and a scarred one reading Lord of the Rings: Return of the King. I hadn't heard of it, but it seemed like muggle fantasy literature.

I decided that I liked the second kid and sat down next to him. I never really cared about people's opinions of me, why should I start now?

"What's that book about?" I asked perkily.

"A group of nine go on a dangerous adventure to destroy the enemy's source of power," he said, fixated on the book.

At least this guy was literate. "Any good?"