"It's... it's-"
"Me, I know."
"But how-"
"I finished school before you. It's been three years since then. I honestly don't know why you're so surprised. This is the best Finishing School there is."
"Okay, fine, but why did you choose me?"
"Because I...
It was a drizzly day, like every day in England, it seemed like. The clouds were dark and heavy, blotting out the sun and everything else too. The lights of the train had come on two hours early, it was so dark. Rain pounded against the windows and chilled the air. Lightening struck frequently, lighting up the blur that was my window momentarily. The thunder was far off, and rumbled across the land like a choir growing from mezzo piano to fortissimo. It was perfect sleeping weather.
However, it was not perfect for my first day of Finishing School. The beginning of the next six years of my life, all beginning with a thunderstorm. I was reminded of the cartoons I watched as a kid. The new school, highlighted by a flash of lightening and a crack of thunder. I smiled to myself. If only life were a cartoon. In cartoons, there are no wars, there is no death, there are no breakups- at least, not in the cartoons I watched.
I sighed, leaning my head against my foggy window. Ronald Weasley. My once best friend turned boyfriend, now a painful memory. I silently scolded myself, curling my legs up onto my seat. I had promised myself not to think of him, and I was determined to keep that promise.
I was dressed in my finest black dress for orientation/ induction. The sleeves were long and sim fitting, stretching down my arms. My shoes were black and simple, and currently laying on the floor. I subconsciously rubbed my aching ankle where the fastening had chaffed my skin. I wore no jewelry, my hair falling tousled to my waist. During induction, you wanted to look as simple as possible, that way the senior pupils thought you weren't trying too hard. If the senior pupils liked your background and what they saw in you, then they would take you under their wing and let you stay in their Tower. Merlin's Academy was well known for their "Tower Cults" and ceremonies. It was what they were famous for, second only to their education.
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The train began to slow, its wheels squealing beneath me. I sighed, leaning down to pick up my shoes and lacing them onto my ankle, inspecting my red, manicured toenails. Once my shoes were secured, I began to fiddle with my hair. Here, I wouldn't be singled out because of my past. Only my educational background would matter. No one here would -pardon my French- give a damn about the part I played in taking down Voldemort.
I took a deep breath. The train screeched to a stop, its breaks hissing as the doors magically opened with a small "ding!" Now was the time. I stood and brushed the wrinkles out of my dress, tossing my hair over my shoulder. After stepping out into the hallway, I followed the other suited intellectuals as they marched promptly down the corridor. The doors of the train opened onto a raised wedge, whose red carpet led down to a polished wood platform. I glanced up at the ceiling, admiring the stone arches above my head. The entirety of the massive purple steam engine and its cars were nestled beneath a structure that could easily pass as an ancient cathedral.
