It was an unusually dreary day for September, the rain falling in never ending sheets of dull azure. The roads were crowded with mud-sloshed cars and taxi cabs, each filled to the brim with anxious passengers. Street upon street was jammed, vehicles crawling at a snail’s pace (mind you, that snail had been stunned and then hit with a beaters bat). All in all, things were moving quite slowly on the roads that lead to Kings Cross Station. Just a normal commuting day in England.

Despite the sluggishness of the traffic, however, certain cars managed to move a bit too fast and suddenly through the streets-taking the more experienced drivers by surprise. These cars tended to be the ones painted in curiously strange colors. One particularly large orange Ford Angelina swerved, much to the distaste of the taxi cabs in the neighboring streets, across three lanes of traffic and onto a ONE WAY lane (Needless to say the car was not going in the right direction). Horns honked and drivers swore.

“Daddy! S-S-STOP it!” one of the orange Angelina’s passengers wailed from the back seat of the car, eyes shut in terror.

“We aren’t g-g-going the right way!” The eleven-year-old girl screeched as her father took his hands off the wheel and straightened his tie.

“Shush, Verity! I’m trying to drive!” The speaker/driver of the car cried enthusiastically as he moved the steering wheel back and forth pointedly. The driver was in his early forties with trimmed, light brown hair. His dark brown eyes sparkled in amusement as he spun the car into a more suitable lane.
“Ah-driving. Not the most well thought out inventions of those d*** muggles, eh? Seems to me like it would be a lot easier if they just apparated. Even walking would be faster than this.” Verity’s father waved his wand, allowing the car to navigate itself along the slippery road. The man then looked around to observe his fellow drivers.

“Such a useless task, driving is. Oy! Is that the Johnson family?” He grabbed the wheel of the car once more and veered sharply up to a shiny black car. He cranked down the window and took up a chat about the uselessness of cars and the like with Angelina Johnson’s father.

The girl in the backseat whimpered at the sudden turn and then uncovered her eyes to look into the Johnson’s car. In addition to Angelina and her parents was Alexia-Angelina’s tall, stylish sister, who was going into her last year of schooling. She looked so confident and at ease with her life. Angelina, however, looked almost as nervous as the girl herself.
“Verity-we’re almost there, so gather your things. Here’s a thought-why don’t you sit with Angie on the train?” Verity looked up at the mention of her name. Her father closed the window.
“Yeah…sure…” Verity combed her short, blond hair out of her crystal blue eyes and gathered up the loose pages of the sketch book that she had been filling. Stuffing her wand behind one ear and a charcoal pencil behind the other, Verity sighed in relief as the car smoothly turned into the Kings Cross lot.

Her father took the key out of the ignition and spun it around his finger.
“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He grinned proudly. In his black slacks and business coat, it was almost impossible to tell that this man was the head of the Ministry of Magic’s banking industry in league with Gringotts (MMBIILWG). The only thing that gave him away as magical was the flashing green and silver tie that was tucked neatly into his jacket.

A memento of his own Hogwarts years, the tie flashed phrases like “Slytherin Quidditch-the best without a guess!” and “Slytherin House- Intelligent and cunning…don’t you wish that you were one of us?”
“Dad-your tie…” Verity’s voice faded into the noise of honking horns and clicking car motors.
“Not this nonsense about my tie again! I’m positive that all my fellow alumni will be showing an equally astounding vigor to strive to uphold each of their House’s sacred names!” He smiled genially and then set to work on unloading the car’s unnaturally spacious trunk.
“Was Angelina’s dad…” Verity began, but her father knew her all too well. He finished the sentence before her voice took on a stutter.
“Supporting his House? Of course not! Sometimes I forget why I hated Gryffindor and the like as a child-“ He laughed good-naturedly, “We always thought that they were such gits! Now, I’m not going to say that you should avoid Gryffindors…but be very wary of the people you associate with. You deserve a nice group of intelligent friends.” He moved his lips around the word as if it intelligence was something that was hard to come by.
“I remember when Lucius and I used to come across lone Gryffindors in the corridors…lets just say the paintings on the fourth floor don’t like to be used as projectiles…Anyway, all I’m saying is, people will due cruel things…I mean….err….” He paused for a moment, trying to think of the right words to say.
“People will make snap judgments about you without getting to know you first. Make sure not to give anyone an opportunity to bully you. Hopefully, the feelings that the Houses have towards one another will have significantly changed. One can only hope…”

Slytherin will be good for you, you’ll see.” He paused as though about to say something, but then shook his head.
“What is it, Dad?”
“Well, err, I already wrote to the Head of the Slytherin house about you-personal old friend of mine, really-”
“You did WHAT!?” Verity was panic-stricken. She could not believe the audacity of her father! Hogwarts was supposed to be like a blank page in her sketch book-one she could fill with anything. Hogwarts was going to be the place where she would get to be whatever she wished to be on her terms. This teacher would ruin simply everything!
“Well-just told him about your nerves concerning school…you know…asked him to look after you…” His smile slowly faded. “Verity, it’s good to actually have someone on your side. You don’t have to be a loner all your life.” His green tie flashed “You’re a LOSER!” pointedly. “You need friends and people to enjoy your life with.”
“I am not a loser!” Verity yelled angrily as she wrenched her trunk from her father’s grasp and began to run to the Station’s entrance. Her father looked confusedly after her.
“I never called her a loser…” he mumbled to himself, straightening his tie feebly as he rushed after her clutching her ticket to his chest.
“Verity! Wait!” But she had already disappeared into the rain.