InsaneJournal

No matter how many times her mother's voice in the back of her mind told her not to, Ann couldn't help but fidget excitedly once she was seated on the train. This was it! She was finally going to Hogwarts! But it was the fact that she was going to Hogwarts before Griselda that gave her smile a smug tilt. It didn't matter that their mother loved Griselda best. Ann would always be older and she would experience everything first. Being eleven, though, her thoughts didn't reach that far. Her mind was still on Griselda's pout and the sharp comment her mother had given her younger sister on her slumped posture. Ann's posture had been ramrod straight. She was too excited for slouching!

She kept her eyes half on the entrance to the compartment to see who entered, greeting each person who entered with a beaming smile, and half on the wicked scab on her knee. Her mother had yelled at her a lot about that knee. First when she got it after she'd fallen out of the tree in front of their house and then again each and every time she caught Ann poking at the edges of it with a grubby fingernail. Her mother talked a lot about scarring and disfigurements and getting a husband, but Ann didn't really care about any of that. She just wanted to see what was underneath. Her mother had grimaced when Ann had admitted that to her and she'd viciously straightened Ann's crooked collar, sighing when her daughter lost her balance from the harsh movement. A straighter spine would have kept her steady.

Eventually she grew bored with her knee and she swung her feet back and forth beneath the seat as she contemplated her next move. Once the train began moving she turned her attention to the boy sitting next to her. She couldn't really tell what he was thinking, but she wasn't about to let that still her lips and she nudged him with her elbow to get his attention. "I'm really excited, aren't you?" she asked cheerfully, not bothering to introduce herself to him.

Wilhelm had been loathe to leave his mother's side at the train station in spite of the fact that she herself was eager to return back to the normal, non-magical world that he was convinced he should have never left in the first place. He didn't feel like talking, even if his mother had warned him that he'd best be on his best manners and not embarrass her. He didn't feel like being on his best manners. He already missed home, his old school, his family's horses, his own bed...

He didn't know what he'd done to deserve the punishment of being a wizard who had to be sent away to some school in Scotland. He couldn't understand why he hadn't been allowed to be normal like the rest of the boys his age. None of them had caused things to catch fire or peoples' hair to fall out. Even after it had been explained to them, he still didn't understand and he could tell already that he was going to hate Hogwarts and everyone else who went there. While most of the people surrounding him on the train were excited, he was in an abysmal mood. He'd tried to find a compartment where he could sit alone, but that had been impossible with the number of students on board.

When Ann nudged him, he glanced over at her, scowling. He didn't bother answer her question, but instead let out a deep sigh and leaned against the side of the train, resolving to stare out the window at the passing countryside for the remainder of the journey.

That wasn't quite the reaction Ann was expecting and she stared at the back of his head for several moments. Did that mean he wasn't excited? Did he not like her? Did she smell? Maybe he was just angry because she hadn't introduced herself. Her mother always told her she had dreadful manners, no matter how hard she tried to have the good ones her mother seemed to like so much. She didn't really get them or why they were so important, but maybe Wilhelm was like her mother and liked good manners too. Everyone else in the compartment was busy talking amongst themselves and she could either insert herself into one of their conversations or she could make this boy like her whether he wanted to or not.

She leaned forward in her seat, keeping one hand braced on the edge of it so she didn't tumble forward onto the floor as she snaked the other around to hold it in front of his face for him to shake. "Sorry! My mum says I'm awful rude! I'm Ann! Who are you? Are you a first year like me?" she rattled off quickly, before leaning into him and lowering her voice. "I don't smell, do I?"

Rather taken aback by her persistence, Wilhelm glanced over his shoulder at her, recoiling from her hand with a mixture of alarm and confusion. He had never met some one quite so forward and his stomach filled with a heavy feeling of dread at the promise of an entire year among people who would surely be just this uncouth. Brushing past her outstretched hand, he got up and moved to sit on the opposite side of the compartment. He gave her a lingering glance, still puzzled and somewhat condescending, before turning yet again to the window.

Ann was beginning to think that maybe she wasn't the one who was awful rude after all. Surely her mother would be impressed that she had better manners than at least one person in the world and she was nearly distracted by the owl she was writing in her head about the mean boy on the train. But she was still looking right at Wilhelm, her mouth still very much agape, and it was difficult to think about anything but how hurt her feelings were by his rejection. No one had ever moved away from her to sit somewhere else before. She pursed her lips together into a pout and studied the boy, her feet still swinging beneath her seat.

"I bet you end up in Slytherin. My dad says that's where all the mean people go and," she paused to give Wilhelm a disdainful look, "you're really mean. I bet you're even too mean for Slytherin so they have to make up another house for you."

Wilhelm didn't have any idea what she was talking about and though he wanted to ask for some sort of explanation, he refrained. He still didn't want to speak to her and his stubbornness on that fact was easily getting the better of him. He didn't think he was a mean person -- he simply wanted to be left alone. Truth be told, he was frightened about what lay ahead of the train -- an entirely new world about which he'd only just learned the existence. He didn't want to make friends with some silly girl. He didn't want to make friends at all. He wanted to return to his normal school with his normal friends and normal houses and classes, not some strange place for who were likely completely mad.

With some uncertainty, Wilhelm chanced a glance at the girl across from him. He nearly opened his mouth to say something -- to leave him alone. But instead, he looked away again at the trees and sky passing them by. He simply hoped that she would understand that he did not want to be bothered.

At the glance in her direction, Ann perked up, grasping the edge of the seat to better lean towards him to hear whatever he might have to say. But when he still refused to speak to her and even looked away again she slouched into her seat, her feet halting mid-swing. What a meanie! Even Griselda was nicer to her than this and she'd been on the receiving end of several of her little sister's cold shoulders. She didn't understand what was so interesting about what was outside of the train, especially when she was right there, being much more interesting.

"Oh my gosh, you are so rude," she informed him, crossing her arms over her chest. "I bet you were raised by, I don't know...wolves or something! Or a sheep!"

The mention of how he was raised certainly got his attention. He wasn't going to stand for anyone talking about his family that way. It wasn't their fault he'd turned out the way he had. He didn't know whose fault it was, exactly, but he intended to find out. He didn't know what he'd do at that point, but he was sure he would figure it out at some point along the way. In the meantime, he was such here with this Scotch girl who would not stop speaking to him even though he thought he had made it abundantly clear that he was not in the mood for socialising.

"I was not raised by sheep," he said, turning to glare at Ann as he finally broke his own vow of silence. "I am not Welsh."

"I don't know," she said, coolly smoothing her skirt over her knees in an attempt to appear worldly. "You sound really Welsh to me!" Not that Ann knew what a Welsh person sounded like. In fact, Wilhelm sounded kind of stuffy. Angry, but stuffy. She didn't really dwell on that for very long. There was gloating to be done! He'd finally spoken to her. Maybe she could convince him to be her friend and if not that then that whatever awful smell he seemed to think was radiating from her could be fixed right up with a bath! Provided it wasn't terminal, of course. She didn't reckon stench could be terminal, though.

"And anyway, I'm not going to believe you're not Welsh until you're nicer to me," she added. "If you tell me your name maybe then I'll believe you were raised by people!"

"Wigworthy," he said, narrowing his eyes with scepticism, doubting that she would immediately recognise his name if she was not familiar with the English families. "Wilhelm Wigworthy." He paused for a moment and considered her as though he were deciding whether or not to divulge some very important secret. "The Honourable Wilhelm Wigworthy."

He puffed up his chest a bit self-importantly when he said it as though that should have clarified things for her. He wasn't normally so boastful and he knew even as he said it that his mother would have given him quite a scolding, but given the scab on her knee and the way she kept fidgeting and talking, he doubted that she would know enough to realise he was being rude.

Ann was beside herself with excitement. She'd gotten him to tell her his name! She didn't think he was as honourable as he seemed to think he was, but she decided to practise what her mother preached and kept that opinion to herself. She beamed across the compartment at him and scooted forward to the edge of her seat so that she could hold her hand out to him again. She really hoped he'd shake it this time. She'd always wanted to have a proper grown-up handshake with someone and this boy was a bit cranky, but he'd do. Besides, when she retold the story she could always stretch the truth a bit and make him sound much more impressive than he really was.

"Marchbanks," she said, hand held out. "Ann Marchbanks. The, uh, confused Ann Marchbanks. Why do you call yourself honourable? Are you a knight?" She'd read about those and they sounded really thrilling.

"How do you do?" he answered, considering her with a cool gaze before extending his hand and giving hers a firm shake. "And it is sort of like a knight, yes."

He said nothing else, though now that they had spoken, he relaxed slightly. He wasn't quite as keen on looking at the scenery as he had been moments before. In fact, glancing back at it, he found much less interesting than the girl sitting across from him. Part of him wanted to continue speaking to her -- maybe it would take his mind off the less than pleasant feeling of being completely alone or the apprehension he felt. The more stubborn part of him felt that he didn't need friends -- or deserve them -- and that he had somehow earned himself this punishment. He was unable to make a decision between the two, so he sat silent and waited to see if she would say anything else.

"Wow," she gasped, wide-eyed and thoroughly impressed. Not only had Ann successfully completed her first grown-up handshake, but it had been with a sort-of-like-a-knight. Griselda was going to be so jealous when she wrote home about this! Maybe she wouldn't have to stretch the truth after all. But her thoughts didn't linger on that handshake for very long. She was sitting in front of a real live, well, whatever he was. And he was finally talking to her. There were questions to be asked.

"Do you have a horse? Is it white? Do you have a suit of armour? Do you have a sword? Did you bring it? Have you fought anyone with it? Have you ever rescued a princess?" she asked in one breath. Ann's idea of a knight was more on the fantastical side.

"No," he said, furrowing his brows in confusion before he'd actually stopped to consider the answer. His mind had caught on the word 'princess' and the idea of even having met one was a bit distracting in light of the other questions she'd asked. After a brief pause, he cleared his throat, straightened up a bit in his seat and gave her a curt nod. "I do have a horse. It's not white. And no to everything else. My father has swords, but they are not for fighting."

If he'd had any stereotypes in mind when it'd come to the Scots, this meeting with Ann was not particularly helping to break him of them. The life of a sort-of-knight was nothing like the fairy tales. This particular one was not chivalrous or brave in any capacity. He might have been, at home among other Muggles, but among witches and wizards, he felt far more timid than he could ever remember having felt.

White horse or no, Ann was still extremely impressed and looking appropriately so. She jumped from her seat to cross the compartment and wedge herself in between Wilhelm and the person sitting next to him, patting the other person on the shoulder and apologising for squishing their leg. She just had to get a better look at this boy, though! Turning towards him, she peered closely at him. He didn't really look much like knight on closer inspection, but he had horse and his dad had swords. That was two out of four! She supposed he didn't really need the armour if he was a wizard and he was still young. There'd be plenty of time to rescue a princess one day. Maybe she could talk him into pretending to rescue her even!

"I bet you're sorted into Gryffindor. That's where all the proper knights should go. My dad was a Gryffindor and that's where I want to go," she said importantly, nodding when she mentioned her father. He wasn't a real knight, but she thought he was pretty close. "Maybe we'll end up in the same house! That would be really swell, don't you think? I overheard my mum tell my dad that she was afraid I might end up in Hufflepuff last night, only it didn't sound like a good thing the way she said it, but I don't think there's anything wrong with Hufflepuff. They look like bumblebees! Did you know that there are some bumblebees that eat other? Isn't that just rotten of them? But I'm sure Hufflepuffs don't eat each other."

While the houses and sorting process had been explained to him briefly by the wizard who had come to inform his parents of his rather alarming condition, he still didn't fully understand what each of the houses represented or how anyone could possibly know which was the best fit for a student. He'd had his own house, so to speak, at his former school, but he sensed that at Hogwarts, it would be somewhat different. His former peers had all been loyal to their houses, but their division seemed far less a ritual than what he'd been told to expect.

"I am sure they do nor eat each other," he said in agreement after sorting out his confusion. "And I am not a proper knight. One day, I will be a soldier, perhaps a General like my father, but knights like the ones you are thinking of simply do not exist. And I do not suppose it matters which house I am in."

He was still not sure he wanted to end up in the same house as Ann and he tried to scoot further away from her, closer to the window, when she came to sit next to him. He was still not entirely used to the idea of attending school with girls, let alone girls as forward as this one seemed to be. He glanced at the empty seat across the compartment and began planning his escape.

She was taken aback to hear the knights she was thinking of didn't exist and her mouth opened and closed several times before she settled on not believing him. What did he know? He wasn't a book and the books she'd read would never lie to her. And like he'd said, he wasn't a proper knight anyway. It was a disappointment really, but hearing he was going to become a soldier thoroughly impressed her in its place. She didn't know much about soldiers beyond the fact that they went to war when they were supposed to, but from what she did know they were sort of like knights. Practically knights, even. Whatever he'd said his father was sounded mighty impressive as well.

Her eyes lit up again and she leaned into him. "What's a General?" she asked. "Is that like a knight? It sounds like a knight if you ask me. Your dad sounds really swell!"

By the time Ann leaned closer to Wilhelm, he'd decided that he'd had enough, so he stood up and moved to sit on the neighbouring bench. Rolling his shoulders and taking a deep breath of air to momentarily enjoy having space to move around in that was no longer suffocating, he had a much easier time in formulating the answers to Ann's questions.

"Some one in the army. He's not a knight," he said, his relief at no longer having her practically on top of him quickly subsiding at the mention of his father. Swell was not a word he'd use to describe the General at all, but for the sake of politeness and respect to the man, he simply nodded.

"Enough about me," he said, hoping for an abrupt change of subject. He glanced out the window toward the front of the train, noting that the sky was getting much darker. He hoped that they would be at Hogwarts soon since he'd never been particularly fond of travel and this journey was already tiring him out. "You're Scottish?"

Watching him move away again stung and Ann's face fell almost immediately. She'd thought they'd been getting along really well, but it was difficult not to interpret his moving away a second time as disinterest. A bit petulantly, she crossed her arms over her chest and nodded in answer to his question. She knew better than to sit right on top of people and had she been thinking, she'd have thought about how her mother would react to her nearly seating herself in a complete stranger's lap just to get a closer look at him. Her ear would have stung from the very memory of the last time she'd upset her mother and been yanked backwards by it. But her mind was very much not on her mother and it wasn't really on the answers to her questions either.

"You're mean," she said quietly, before shifting her eyes to the passing scenery. At least when it moved away from her, it was because it was supposed to.

"Well, you're rude," he said, matter-of-factly. It was not the first time that anyone had ever called him mean and he doubted it would be the last, but he felt a little bit disappointed that the first person he'd spoken to from the wizarding world beyond those he'd had to speak to had already categorised him in such a way. With a sigh, he too averted his eyes to look at the scenery passing by, leaning back in his seat. With every minute that passed on the train, his longing for home seemed to grow.

Being called rude was the final straw for Ann, who was still stinging from being rejected a second time, and all of her mummy issues came bubbling to the surface. She was convinced her mother didn't love her because she wasn't polite enough and to have a complete stranger accuse her of such, especially on what was already a somewhat stressful day, was too much. She didn't say anything right away and instead focused her efforts on trying not to cry or at least not sniffling so loud. But she'd never been all that skilled at controlling her emotions. They tended to spill over whether she wanted them to or not and they were intent on spilling over into in the compartment.

"I'm not rude," she yelped, tears steadily dripping down her cheeks. "I just wanted to make a friend!"

Wilhelm was taken back by the girl's tears and glanced quickly at the other students in the compartment before leaning forward to speak in a hushed voice, indicative of a new sense of urgency he felt at the idea that he'd not only been called mean, but that it had more or less been confirmed by his making her cry.

"Please stop crying," he said, glancing again at the other students to make sure they were not watching the two of them. His cheeks were already flushed with embarrassment and he did not particularly wish for others to be witnessing this. "I cannot be friends with some one while they are crying."

It took a moment for the meaning of Wilhelm's words to dawn on Ann and her tears nearly stopped altogether at the realisation. She gave one final sniffle, staring at him with wide and hopeful eyes as she dabbed at her cheeks with the cuff of her sleeve. She hoped he meant what she thought he meant. Granted, he was the sort of person who seemed like he'd get along much better with her little sister, but Ann really wanted him to be her friend.

"Really?" she asked, smiling slightly. "Does that mean you'll be my friend?" Excitement was beginning to creep back into her voice, but she sounded hopeful for the most part.

As sceptical as he still felt, he supposed it was better to simply give in and agree to be her friend than have her crying in the middle of the train. He wasn't sure if it was for her sake or his own that he was embarrassed, but either way, he was relieved when she stopped. From his pocket, he produced a handkerchief and handed it to her, taking a final glance at the other students in the compartment. He could only imagine what they were thinking about them now.

"Yes," he said after considering a moment. "I will be your friend. But no more crying."

"No more crying," she echoed, taking his handkerchief from him with a mumbled thank you. Even the act of handing her a handkerchief impressed Ann and her smile brightened as she dabbed at her cheeks with it. They were practically grown-ups now! Nevermind that they were only eleven years old and Ann was doing a good job of showing it. They'd shook hands! And he had a handkerchief! Life didn't get any more grown-up than that. With that thought on her mind, she loudly blew her nose into the handkerchief and, after folding it up so the evidence of her sadness was hidden in its depths, she held it out towards him.

Pressing his lips together, Wilhelm took the handkerchief back from her and tucked it back into his pocket. He still had his reservations about committing to becoming friends with some one he'd only just met, but at least she was no longer crying and it would be good to at least have one person he could talk to if making friends once they arrived at Hogwarts proved more difficult than becoming Ann's friend had.

Regardless of any doubts he may have had, the two found found no end to the things they could talk about to distract themselves on what might have otherwise been an extremely monotonous train ride. By the time the school came into view, Wilhelm was far more relaxed than he'd been when he stepped on the train earlier that morning, even if he had more reason to be anxious with Sorting so close at hand. He simply hoped, even if he wouldn't admit it, that in whichever house he was placed, it would be the same one in which his new friend was.