Effervescence | h.p.

i | xxxvii. she took the train

Friday, December twentieth, students were awake early, running around their dorm to pack everything they wanted to bring home with them.

"Do you think I should pack my ink and quill?" asked Lavender.

"If you plan on doing your homework from Professor Snape, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick to have it all done on time, then I would suggest bringing them," replied Lyra as she pushed a third jumper into her trunk.

"How do muggles write, if not with a quill?" she asked the room, not asking specific people and leaving the question for anyone to answer.

"We used pens at my primary school," Lyra informed while looking to Hermione, who was nodding in agreement.

"You used whats?"

"Pens. They hold the ink so that you don't need to constantly dip the tip in a pot of ink," said Hermione. "I tried bringing some with me, but they would need to be charmed to come into the castle. Too modern, I suppose."

"I wish I brought some pens with me," Lyra said thoughtfully. "They write so well and they don't break as easily as a glass jar full of ink. And they come in different colors, maybe I can have my dads figure out how to get pens through the magic barriers around Hogwarts."

Lyra and Hermione finished their packing relatively quickly, not feeling the need to pack everything in their room. They left the room to get breakfast from the Great Hall before they left for the Hogwarts Express, which was departing from Hogsmeade Station at eleven o'clock.

Upon their entry into the hall, the two girls found Harry and Ron, who were playing wizard chess. It was exactly like Muggle chess, which neither Harry nor Lyra could figure out. The difference, though, was that the figures were now alive, which made is a lot like directing troops around in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. Like everything else he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family — in this case, his grandfather. However, old chessmen weren't a drawback at all. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted.

Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn't trust him at all. He wasn't a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. "Don't send me there, can't you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him."

"Have you packed?" Lyra asked the two playing boys.

"Yes . . . ?" Harry said with a sheepish grin. It was painfully obvious that he had not, in fact, packed.

"Eat fast, then I'll help you. Ron, are you at least packed?"

" . . . "

"Ronald!" Lyra slumped, "Hermione, kill me now. I'm over boys and I'm not even back with my dads," she groaned.

"Sorry, Lyra," both boys mumbled.

"Just — hurry up, please. I still want to talk to Professor Snape before we leave and I won't be happy if I don't have time."

The quad ate their breakfast, which Lyra enjoyed her fruit and her waffle she ate. She ended up giving half of it to Ron, as she was unable to finish the large circle.

"I'm going to the dungeons to see Snape. I'll meet you in your dorm later when I get back," stated Lyra.

"Be careful with Snape, Ly," Harry warned, but Lyra didn't care.

"I'll be fine, Harold. Don't miss me too much," she said, waving the group goodbye.

She left the Great Hall with her friend's eyes following her retreating form with anxiety.