16Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, England. I'll tell you what, it's a far cry from Quarrian Comprehensive Witchcraft and Wizardry Academy, Australia.
That's right. I'm a witch, proud (ex) student of Quarrian, about to start at Hogwarts in Year 10. Well, it's actually "fifth year" in England.
1 September. I'm at King's Cross Station with Mum and Dad, standing between Platforms 9 and 10, not quite sure of how to get onto Platform 9 3/4. Obviously, there's a special way of getting to Hogwarts that none of the Muggles know about. Too bad nobody told me how to get onto it! In Australia, we had always gotten to Quarrian by ferry. The Muggles' eyes would slide off the tiny quay at the end of the harbour, allowing all students to get on the ferry unobtrusively.
Suddenly I saw someone with an owl in a cage pass me. He ran at the wall between the platforms and disappeared in the blink of an eye.
"Mum! Dad! I know how to do it!" I cried. My parents came over to me and I told them what I had just seen the boy do. While I was explaining, a whole family of red-heads ran through the wall. I broke off my explanation and simply said, "See?"
We all took hold of my luggage trolley and ran at the wall. When we got to the barrier, we ran right through it and found ourselves in a train station like no other, crowded with children and parents. I decided to avoid an emotional farewell and kissed my parents, hugged them tight and said goodbye. I watched them stand back and refused Dad's offer of helping me onto the train. I would manage; besides, I was 15 years old and I didn't want to seem helpless.
So as I struggled to get my luggage onto the train, I knew my dad would be itching to help me. Fortunately I heard a male voice say, "Excuse me, do youwant some help?" I looked up with a grateful smile and was taken aback by the good looks of the boy who offered a helping hand. He was tall, with messy, black hair, green eyes and glasses.
I finally stopped staring and answered, "Yes please, if you don't mind." So together we unloaded the rest of my luggage and got it all onto the train. The boy asked me, "Are your parents not here?" I pointed at them and replied, "Yes, but I thought I might as well start off by being independent. I told Dad that I'd be fine."
"I hope you don't mind me asking, but are you Australian?"
"Yep. We moved here a few weeks ago. I think I'm in fifth year."
"Oh! So am I!"
"Good. At least I know one person already. Well, sort of," I prompted, hoping he'd introduce himself. He did, a little flustered, "Oh! Sorry, I'm Harry Potter."
"Nice to meet you Harry Potter. I'm Gabriella Foropov."
"Wow! What a name! Are you sure you're Australian?"
"Yes, but my great-grandparents moved to Australia from Russia."
"Cool! I'm just plain old English," Harry quipped. I was trying to think of something to say to this when I heard a female voice behind us.
"Harry! Where have you been? Ron and I have been looking everywhere for you!"
Turning around, I saw a very pretty girl with lots of brown hair.
"Hallo! My name is Hermione Granger. You must be new," she (correctly) observed. I nodded and stuck out my hand as I said, "I'm Gabriella Foropov. I'm from Australia, in case you couldn't tell. Oh, and I'm also in fifth year."
"Excellent. I think I'm going to like you!" I grinned and decided to ask Harry and Hermione a favour, "Hey you guys don't mind if I sit with you on the train, do you? It's just that I don't know anyone and." I trailed off as Harry and Hermione nodded in unison.
"So you won't mind helping me carry my stuff, will you?" I asked nervously. They grinned and Harry winked and picked up a bag as he said, "You're pushing your luck!" We picked up the rest of it and were just walking towards the door between the carriages when a slimy voice behind us sneered, "Well, well, well. Look what we have here. Potter and Granger have dumped Weasley and have a new friend."
Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes and Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Malfoy," as we turned around.
"So Potter," Malfoy continued, for I presumed that the pale blonde boy was Malfoy, "I suppose your new friend fits the criteria? Orphan, poor, mudblood. That's what you like, isn't it?"
Harry's fists were clenched and before he could say a word I stepped in coolly, "You must be Malfoy. I'm Gabriella Foropov. My parents are on the platform, I went to a very private school in Australia and I descend from one of the oldest wizarding families in Russia. Is that good enough for you?"
Malfoy was taken aback at this and a strange expression crossed his face, fleetingly. Then he muttered to his two fat henchmen, "Let's go." I wondered at his lack of persistence, but let it go. I turned back to Harry and Hermione and saw that they had equal looks of surprise on their faces. I ignored that and picked up a bag, waiting for Hermione to lead the way.
In the carriage they had chosen sat a tall, gangly boy, apparently one of the ones in that family of red-heads I had seen on the platform. Harry introduced us, "Ron, this is Gabriella Foropov. Gabriella, this is Ron Weasley." We shook hands and smiled and I addressed all of them, "Listen, if we're going to be friends, please call me Ella." They all agreed and we loaded up my luggage with three other sets of bags.