Disjointed Departure

Beautiful fractals of middle-aged frost decorated the bottoms of the boats floating across the Great Lake. A chill nipped at the impatient students as the wall of isolating fog made the distance to the shore an unknown.

All students making this trip filled the hole in the fog with laughter, talk of Christmas, the excitement of returning home, and tears of the few who were able to create such tight, some would call overdramatic, bonds. All except one. One snow-white half-vampire sat half-listening to her friends with her eyes glued to a parchment; every word read increased the look of frustration on her face.

**Catlyn**

Another failure? How many failures has that been? The answer, 39, immediately pops into my mind. I didn't need the number perfect memory! Have you ever heard of a rhetorical question? And I'm personifying my memory like a loon, maybe Snape was right in me coming.

Recently we've figured out that the Mana potion needs more Mana and an ingredient to target my soul. The first problem was answered after remembering that the undead, even a halfy such as myself, are immune to poison.

So, while Snape has been trying to add as many poisons to the mix without them interfering with each other, I've been researching potential ingredients. This has led to a fixation on Herbology and Potion books every free waking moment. Anne, being the sickening sack of empathy she is, has been doing everything in her power to claw me away from my books.

Admittedly, my collapsing and having to use the Owl whistle to get me to the Hospital Wing after my fifth day without blood did give her worries some weight. Folding the message from Snape, I humor the absurd notion that people need socialization to function.

Unlike the last boat ride, I and the Diggory siblings are joined by a friend of Anne. Although calling someone a friend of Anne is like describing someone as a fellow breather of air. Fay Dunbar sat with a similar uniform to Anne only more sane, with leggings and long loose sleeves. Her stature sat taller than Anne but shorter than Cedric; average height for a fifth-year girl.

"Earth to Houston~?" Anne asks, poking through the clouds hovering above me like rays of sunlight.

"What's Houston?" Fay's Irish tang voices what we're all thinking. her long dirty blonde hair held itself back with a headband braid.

"I don't know exactly. It's what the moon men say," While both Cedric and Fay looked at her like she herself was a moon man, I couldn't help but wish I was going home so I could research this.

A sigh of relief passes my lips as the small boat hits the side of the dock, saving me from trying to push past my social falling and breaking the silence. The shine of morning on the horizon contrasted the fading dark sky as tired first years chattered their way off the docs and down the winding forest's path. As it continues, the path becomes more narrow, forcing us to walk in twos.

"Does the Diggory family have any plans for the break?" Fay asks, falling beside Anne, their family name filled with reverence.

"The Great house of Diggory," Cedric's voice went deep and powerful for comedic effect, "is keeping it simple. I'm surprised that speed talker over here hasn't told you yet."

Frozen dirt crinkled underneath the group winding their way through the forest's early morning greetings. Orange lanterns dotted throughout the group, pushing the bright white fog back while filling the darkness overhead. The group became noticeably quieter than before, the mystical forests surrounding Hogwarts still unfamiliar.

"What's so important about the Diggory family anyway?" Anne asks, jabbing her with shock.

"Well Eldritch Diggory for one," Fay's explanation of the obvious has no effect on our American friend. Fay's Muggleborn statues didn't stop her from becoming near the top of her class and looked at for Auror recruitment years in advance.

"Who? Is that your grandfather?" Cedric snickers at Anne's question as Fay acts as if the conversation was about Merlin himself.

"Apart of the Sacred Twenty-eight? One of the most powerful wizard families in all of Europe? Almost considered royalty with how intertwined it has been with the Ministry of Magic?" With each shake of the head, Fay's voice becomes more and more desperate.

"If Abhoth heard this he'd be rolling in his grave," Cedric chuckles as the high pitch whine of a train whistle calls ahead. Swooping around, lanterns start to line the edge of the path as it joins a, much larger, dirt road. Going along, about half a dozen Thestrals drawn carriages line the road as it loops back on itself. Lit by the early morning blue sky and stark orange candlelight stands a simple red brick station.

I slightly melt at the reminder that Cedric and Fay went the long way just so they'd be with Anne. Students of all heights, shapes, colors and Houses join the rumble of the Hogwarts Express in making this remote neck of the woods feel lively.

The lively enter a corner in my mind as it narrows in on a Thestral. The winged, jet-black, horse seemed to have noticed my presence, for its ethereal white eyes meet mine. That's it, over there is proof. A reminder of all the bad, all the evil swirling in my life.

"Come on Catlyn!" Anne invites, jumping in front of me; blocking my eye contact from the Thestral.

'No, it's fine. I don't want to get too close to the Thestrals,' Confusion hits her as my words enter her mind. Curiosity seeps in only for me to quickly realize my mistake in mentioning Thestrals. Doing a quick scan of the area, I spot Hagrid standing where the gravel meets the dirt road.

Not wanting Anne to know, I make my escape over to where I'm supposed to meet after the Hogwarts Express departs. Looking back, I breathe a sigh of relief as Cedric leads her to the station.

"Do you know anything about a wizard named Nicolas Flamel?" A boy's voice asks from my side. Shock slips out of my mask as I look up to none other than Harry Potter.

**Leanne**

What's going on with Catlyn? Why was she acting like that? My eyes stay glued to the compartment window as I look out to see Harry Potter talking with Catlyn. What is he planning? I can't hear them but it doesn't look like he's insulting her.

"Anne?" Cedric's voice slips through my brain like a solvent.

"What are Thestrals?" I blurt as the slow clack of the train wheels begins.