All for Us || a Hogwarts Legacys' Story

The Path to Hogwarts

Trapped in a medium-sized carriage, Claire Reign had hoped that her "more than extraordinary" belated admission to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would have been a much more exclusive event than what it turned out to be. In her letter, Vice Principal Weasley had not specified that in addition to her, three other students would accompany her on her unexpected journey; not even Professor Fig, who had shown her the basics of the practical use of magic, decided to share the information. At the moment, Fig was sitting comfortably on his side of the carriage, chatting with his long-time friend George Osric about something of the utmost importance. Claire would have preferred the two of them to clear up before departure so she had more room to sit, but the man with the round glasses had insisted on the secrecy of the subject, And while the two magicians were discussing encrypted letters and inadequate places to apparate - whatever that meant - Claire was trying to make room between a skinny girl's butt and a brown guy's pointed shoulders. The boy, moreover, obsessively tapped his finger on the door of the carriage, driving her crazy.

«How rude of me» said Osric, gently hitting his forehead with the the tip of his fingers, «Who are your travelling companions? »

Claire and the irritating boy snapped to get straight, getting, her a shoulder on the eye, him an unnatural twist of the left hand, that remained stuck behind her back. The other two remained quiet and gave no sign of reaction. The skinny girl just pointed her glare at the professor's friend, the one on the other side of the seat kept looking at the view from the window.

«New students» remained vague Fig.

«New? » confused, Osric inspected them one by one.

«Yes sir. We're starting school as a fifth year» said Claire's neighbour.

«Extraordinary! » a short pause, to the amazement of the news, «And your names? »

«Claire Reign, sir» she glanced victoriously at the strange boy, already ready to inform everyone of his name, as if it were the word of Oscar Wilde himself. She winked at him and gave him a clever smile, then leaned comfortably back on the seat.

«Lorelai Evans» the other girl whispered. Perhaps after hearing Claire speak she had found the little courage she needed to introduce herself. The red hair fell straight on her face, hiding a good half, and ran long to cover her shoulders. Claire realized, in that instance, that they were roughly dressed the same way; after all, the travel uniform had been provided by the school: a long red skirt cut before the ankles, white shirt and blue tie. For the cold English morning they were also given a beige coat that reached halfway up the leg. Even the silent boy wore similar clothes, with the difference of trousers, while the last one, the irritating one, was dressed to the point. The concept and style were the same, but his clothes had an expensive and refined look.

«Ruben Barclay. It's a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Osric» When seated, his neighbour was taller than Claire of half head, especially thanks to the curly hair that gave him a few inches more.

«Barclay, uh? I must say I didn't really expect this! It's a real pleasure, boy. Congratulations! ». Osric held out his hand. It took a moment for Ruben to free his hand from Claire's back. This boy must be important, she thought. The way that Osric greeted him also captured the interest of the silent observer, who had finally stopped looking out the window to focus on his fellow travellers. He would have been a very handsome boy, with his calm and reassuring looks, had it not been for the tremendous scar on the right side of his face, right next to his eye. Instinctively, Claires' fingers travelled on the one visible on her nose. She felt a lock of her brown hair, now out of the braid she made that morning.

«Lorcan Crowe» and he returned to press his nose against the glass. An embarrassing silence fell among them all, so Osric, slightly bewildered by the poor presentation, quickly returned to converse with Fig.