I can still remember the first time I saw her. It was a dreadfully long time ago, yes, but the memory still lingers. It was fall of my first year. Although it was frightfully cold for that time of year, I remember quite distinctly spotting her wearing an old t-shirt and ragged and frayed jeans.

I stared at her for quite a while, my breath fogging up the glass of the compartment I was situated in at the time. She was standing very alone in her odd outfit; her head held high with a certain amount of haughtiness needed to get by in the city. But I could see through her shield. I'm positive only I could see that she was afraid, lonely, and frail behind the faux confidence she portrayed.

The train whistle blew and she scrambled to get onboard, letting down her guard just enough so that I could see the fear in her watery eyes. At the same time, my cousin, Bellatrix, walked into my compartment, sitting down as if she was welcome. She proceeded to tell me everything about Hogwarts, but I only half-heartedly listened. Instead, I watched as the girl walked from compartment to compartment, searching for a place to sit.

She walked by the compartment that my conceited cousin and I occupied. For a moment—a single, fleeting moment—our eyes met. Grey to grey; they seemed to find each other on their own. And that's how it would be until the end of time.