"Screamed, shouted, yelled, exclaimed, um…"

Lynn Mayer chewed on the feather of his quill as he stared down at his mostly-blank notepad. Every so often the train would lurch and Lynn would have to quickly seize his inkbottle, or risk spilling it all over himself. He briefly considered placing the bottle on his trunk, but decided against it. After all, his belongings were already ink-stained enough. If he managed to spill a dose of ink on them one more time, he'd be the first Hogwarts student who tried to study from black-paged books.

Lynn stared out of his compartment's window, watching the scenery race by as the Hogwarts Express rumbled down the tracks. The weather was still as lousy as it was when Jacob had dropped him off at King's Cross Station, with buckets of rain hammering down onto the roof of the train. Still, Lynn didn't terribly mind the rumble of rain hitting metal. It helped him focus, drowning out the racket from the other compartments.

"Bellowed!" Lynn exclaimed, snapping his fingers and almost knocking over his own inkbottle. He spat a few feather fragments out of his mouth and resumed scribbling in his notepad, filling another page with indecipherable strings of ink. Rereading his handiwork, Lynn grimaced. The work was decent, but there was definitely room for improvement. Lynn tore out the page and crammed it into his pocket, staring once again at a completely blank sheet of paper.

Lynn sighed, placing the notepad on top of the trunk next to him. He glanced at the empty seat across from him, as if a student would spontaneously appear there when he wasn't looking. As he expected, the bench remained empty.

Lynn shrugged, turning back to his trunk and clicking off the lock. If his friend wasn't going to show up, he might as well take the time to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything at the station. Lynn began to lift up the lid of his trunk, pinning one hand against his papers and pressing his elbow down on the lid of his inkbottle.

After a few moments of finagling with this awkward position, Lynn managed to peek into the contents of the trunk without spilling any of his belongings. He quickly ran through a mental checklist, glancing from item to item. Wand? Check. Cauldron? Check. Slytherin House uniform? Of course. All the required books for fifth years? Every single one.

Lynn sighed in relief, leaning backwards against his seat and stretching. Usually he managed to mess something up, but not this year. This semester, he wasn't going to forget any assignments, or get into any pointless fights, or make any of the stupid mistakes he usually did.

Lynn didn't even have time to finish the thought before his elbow bumped against his inkbottle, sending the canister rolling across the seat. He made a futile swipe for the bottle, but it was already too late. The canister rolled off the edge of seat and bounced across the carpet, dumping its contents all over the floor of the compartment. Within an instant a shallow black lake formed at Lynn's feet, sinking into the carpet and staining the bottom of the boy's cloak.

"For the love of Circe," Lynn swore under his breath, snatching a handful of parchment paper out of his trunk. Pulling off his robe and rolling up his sleeves, Lynn bent down and began cleaning up the large inky puddle at his feet. So much for not making any mistakes this year. Lynn hadn't even made it off of the train.

Just as Lynn began sponging up the mess, the compartment door slid open. Glancing at the open doorframe, Lynn found himself staring up at another Slytherin, a skinny brown-haired boy who was about half of a foot shorter than Lynn. The boy stared down at Lynn for a moment, as if drinking in the oddity of someone sitting in a large black puddle. After a solid ten seconds, the boy cracked a grin.

"Of all the compartments I could have wound up in on this train," the boy groaned, whacking the back of Lynn's head good-naturedly, "I end up with the Creature from the Black Lagoon."

Lynn failed to hold back a slight grin. "Shut up, Brennan. It's not like I spilled it on your stuff."

Brennan shrugged, grabbing the handle of the trunk trailing behind him and swinging it onto the empty seat. "True. But you don't have to be the friend of the guy wearing ink-stained robes."

"I'll be the one wearing ink-stained robes, nimrod," Lynn muttered, giving up his attempt to sponge up the mess. With a defeated sigh, Lynn sank back into his seat, pushing aside his soiled robes as he did so. "Besides, no one says you have to sit next to me at every meal."

Brennan smirked, kicking his feet up on the windowsill and lounging across the entirety of his bench. "What, and risk letting you get into trouble without me? We have a deal, man. If one of us goes down, we bring the other down, too. It's no fun otherwise."

"I think that works out better for you than for me," Lynn pointed out, recalling all of the times he had been dragged down to the headmaster's office after being scapegoated.

Brennan laughed, loosening his tie and draping it across his eyes like a blindfold. "Yeah, yeah, you've given me this before. But who else am I going to hang with? And besides, it's not like you have anyone else to complain about me with."

Lynn scowled, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I have friends besides you, McAuley."

Brennan raised an eyebrow, his eyes still covered by the green-and-black tie. "Oh, last names now. Hit a sore spot, didn't I? Seriously though, name anyone besides me who you call a 'friend'. And Jacob doesn't count. He's your older brother, he's your friend by obligation."

Lynn thought for a moment, trying to recall people he had talked to over the past few years. "Um, George Cornwallis. You know, the prefect with the weird haircut?"

Brennan waved his hand, brushing the idea away. "He graduated last year. Doesn't count. Besides, I don't think you two ever talked about anything besides classwork."

Grimacing, Lynn ran a couple of names off of his fingers. "Sylvester Urkel, Quentin Stork, and, uh, Arnold Thornton."

Shaking his head, Brennan chuckled. "That's it? Sylvester moved out of the continent last year, Quentin didn't know you existed, and you just made that last one up."

Lynn sank lower into his seat, his face turning red. "Okay, so I don't know many people. You're not much better. Who do you talk to, besides me?"

Brennan smirked, wiggling his finger at Lynn. "Don't change the subject. Besides, it works out better for me if people aren'r paying attention. I mean, how else would I learn everything I know?"

Lynn grinned a little, cocking his head to the side. "Please, do enlighten me. What are these things you know? I mean, besides how to accidentally set fire to your homework during Potions."

Brennan's finger shot into the air like a bullet. "That was one time! And I still blame you for that. And anyways…"

Pulling the blindfold off of his face and swinging back into upright position, Brennan proudly held up a wad of parchment paper in his right hand. "This is just the info I picked up in the last twenty minutes. Mostly gossip and rumors, but there's the occasional gold mine buried in here."

Smirking, Lynn turned his gaze towards the window and reclined as best he could without dipping his feet in the ink puddle. "I assume you're going to tell me this stuff whether I ask for it or not, so fire away."

"Very funny," Brennan grumbled, unfolding some of the papers. "You know, you're the only one who hears about some of this stuff. At this rate, you're the second-most informed student at Hogwarts. Second to myself, of course."

Lynn waved his hand in a "go-on" gesture. "Sure, sure, I'm so lucky to have a trouble-making friend like you. Now will you please just get on with it before you end up exploding due to all your 'archived knowledge'."

Brennan shrugged, beginning to sort through his assorted rumors and factoids. "Okay, so, you know Godwin? The Gryffindor two years ahead of me? Well, a year ahead of you, but anyway. Rumor has it that someone saw him smuggling some potions onto the train. I've heard they looked like those concentration formulas that the professors had banned. You know, the silvery ones? And you know Aiden what's-his-face? I hear that he cursed a couple of Muggles over summer break. And did you hear about…"

Lynn continued to stare at the scenery rushing by, allowing Brennan's news-dump to empty out in the background. Lynn never really paid much attention to any of Brennan's eavesdrop reports. Most of it was rather pointless, anyway. Lynn didn't particularly care which student's uncle's girlfriend's sister may or may not have ended up in Azkaban. Still, Brennan was a useful source of information when it came down to the wire. No schoolboy knew the inner workings of the school better than Brennan did. If anyone in Slytherin ever wanted to know which social group was on the eve of self-destruction, Brennan was the one to turn to. He didn't work for free, though. Lynn had seen him charge a couple of Galleons per fact, and that was on a cheap day. Brennan just didn't really like giving his information out to strangers.

"… and word on the street is that the turf war between Jalili and Rookwood is starting to flare up again, so… hey, are you even listening to me?"

Lynn was jerked out of his thoughts, bolting upright. "Huh? Oh, yeah, uh… you heard that someone said the stuff about the guys, right?"

Brennan scowled, stuffing the parchment back into his pocket. "Why do I even bother? It's not like you're going to ever use this stuff. You've made exactly one friend in the past five years, and you're looking at him."

Now Lynn scowled, glaring at Brennan. "Look, I thought we went over this. I can make friends anytime I want. I just don't know that many people."

A wicked grin crawled across Brennan's face, and Lynn felt a chill rush down his spine. Whenever Brennan grinned like that, one of two things was about to happen: one, he knew that he was about to watch a train wreck occur in someone's life, or two, he was about to attempt to drive that train off the rails.

"Well, that's a relatively easy problem to fix," Brennan replied, his eyes gleaming. Before Lynn could react, Brennan lunged across the ink puddle, snapping up Lynn's notepad.

Lynn leapt to his feet, his shoes sinking slightly into the soggy black carpet. "Brennan, give it back," he warned, holding out his open palm expectantly.

Brennan stared down at the notepad in his grasp, as if weighing his options. Finally, he shrugged, holding the notepad above Lynn's outstretched hand.

Something clicked in the back of Lynn's mind. Brennan never backed down this easily, especially when he had the upper hand. This wasn't a surrender; it was some sort of trap.

Before Lynn could act upon this sudden realization, it was too late. The wicked grin returning to his face, Brennan flicked his wrist to the side, tossing the notepad past Lynn's outstretched palm and sending it spiraling through the air. "Oops."

In desperation, Lynn dove for the notepad. Nearly slipping on the ink-soaked carpet, he managed to snatch the notepad out of the air, catching it moments before the pad hit the ground. Lynn clutched the papers tightly, allowing a triumphant smile to spread across his face. Before he could turn around and gloat, however, he heard a sudden whooshing noise, followed by a metallic click. The smile drained off of Lynn's face. Glancing around, Lynn realized with a chill that he was now standing in the train's corridor, having stumbled out of his compartment in his attempt to catch the journal. Slowly turning to face his compartment, Lynn found himself staring through a thick sheet of glass, watching Brennan adjust the lock on the door.

Apparently satisfied with his work, Brennan turned his gaze back towards Lynn, wearing the triumphant smirk that had adorned Lynn's face only a moment ago. Through the glass, Brennan gave Lynn a thumbs-up, gesturing down the corridor with his other hand.

"Go make some friends," Brennan called gleefully through the door, his voice muffled by the thick sheet of glass.

Lynn pounded on the door, gritting his teeth. "Brennan, this isn't funny! Let me in!"

In response, Brennan simply cupped his hand to his ear, feigning deafness. "Sorry, thick glass. Can't hear you."

Lynn actually managed to growl slightly, pounding on the door with both hands. "Brennan, you're being a… look, I'll listen to your bloody rumors, just let me back in! All my things are in there!"

Brennan simply grinned, jumping back into his seat and kicking his feet up again. He waved his hand in a "now go" gesture, before closing his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest. At this rate, he'd be asleep in a couple of minutes.

Lynn continued pounding on the door for several minutes, shouting assorted curses at Brennan through the sheet of glass. After a while, though, it became evident that Brennan wasn't going to open the door even if Merlin himself came a-knocking. Sighing in exasperation, Lynn shoved his notepad into his pocket and began stomping down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment.

"Bloody little… as if he's got any more friends… that room's got all my things… when I get my hands on him…"

Lynn grumbled to himself as he moved down the corridor, occasionally glancing through a compartment window to see if any had been left conveniently vacant. So far, he wasn't having much luck. The Hogwarts Express was pretty packed this year, with most compartments having at least three or four students jammed inside.

Glancing briefly out of one of the windows, Lynn couldn't help but notice his reflection in the glass. Well, Lynn couldn't really blame anyone if they didn't want to let him into their compartment. He looked like he had just crawled out from underneath a rock. His dark hair was uneven and ragged around the edges, due no doubt to the mishap with the self-barbering scissors that Jacob had purchased in an attempt to save money on haircuts. His uniform, while mostly clean, still had patches of ink drying into the fabric. Not even his face was immune to the raggedy look, with tired circles under his eyes and an angry scowl plastered across his face. Overall, Lynn looked like he had just emerged from some dumpster in the poorer parts of London.

Lynn cleared his throat, trying to adjust his appearance as he walked. He couldn't really help the stains, but he combed his hair as best he could with his fingernails and attempted to wipe the scowl off of his face. If he was going to try hitching a ride in some stranger's compartment, the least he could do was look respectable.

Lynn kept glancing through the windows of the compartments, hoping to find a mostly vacant area of the train. No such luck. So far he had seen several compartments filled with the more popular Slytherin girls (no way in Hell was he going to try heading in there), several more filled with Quidditch teams and upperclassmen (among whom Lynn was about as popular as a piece of road kill), and assorted compartments packed with all sorts of unfamiliar faces.

He was getting near the far end of the train now. If he didn't find any empty compartments, he'd have to choose between camping out in the corridor and attempting to talk his way into one of the occupied spaces. Neither of which sounded very appealing.

Lynn passed a compartment filled to the brim with Gryffindor boys, most of whom were practically rocking the train with all the racket they were making. Sitting near one of the doors was a boy who seemed to be in Lynn's year, and happened to look vaguely familiar. The boy glanced at the doorway and noticed Lynn standing awkwardly in the corridor.

Lynn quickly recognized the student as Christopher Godwin, one of the more popular boys by anyone's standards. Lynn had talked to him once or twice in the past, mainly because Christopher was openly friendly to everyone. They weren't exactly friends, but one would be hard-pressed to find someone who actually disliked Chris. Philanthropist, philosopher, and Greek statue rolled into one, every other girl in the school had considered dating him at one point and every other boy wanted to be him.

Chris grinned at Lynn, gesturing for him to come into the compartment. Lynn briefly considered accepting the offer, but then glanced at the other occupants. By now one or two others had noticed the Slytherin, and a couple were beginning to make a couple of rude hand gestures. If Lynn were to actually enter the compartment, being the only Slytherin in a compartment full of Gryffindors was just asking for trouble.

Lynn grinned half-heartedly at Chris, shaking his head and jabbing his thumb down the corridor, as if he already knew where he was going. Chris shrugged, then turned back to his friends and resumed laughing and joking along with them.

Lynn was in the last section of the train now. The crowds here were thinner, but still not small enough for Lynn to consider imposing himself upon them. Glancing into a nearby compartment, Lynn's heart leapt. For a moment he thought he had finally found an empty area to crash in for the rest of the trip. As he grasped the handle to the door, however, movement on one of the seats caught his eye. Lynn's stomach sank to the floor.

Sitting alone on one of the benches, arms crossed tightly across his chest and eyes screwed shut, was Aiden McKneil. Lynn swallowed nervously, slowly releasing the door handle. Of all the students in the school, McKneil was the one Gryffindor most likely to rip you to pieces. The kid looked like a young dark wizard stereotype, with uncut black hair sticking outwards in every direction, and a muscular frame evident even through his school jacket. Lynn had heard enough rumors from Brennan to know that McKneil wasn't to be messed with. Apparently McKneil's father had been arrested for torture a few years back, and, according to Brennan, he had managed to pass on a few dark secrets to his son before being locked away. McKneil was the one student in the school who was more willing to duel with his fists than his wand, and Lynn had heard enough stories to know who won these fights. It was probably best to leave this compartment alone.

Just as Lynn released the door handle, however, the train lurched violently on the tracks, throwing Lynn off balance and causing him to fall against the compartment door with a much louder thwump than he had intended.

In response to this unwanted interruption, one of McKneil's eyes slowly opened, glaring out into the corridor with enough force to make Lynn feel like his flesh was beginning to roast. Lynn stared back into McKneil's acid-green eyes for a second or two, before deciding to quickly shuffle down the hallway, averting his gaze as much as possible. Not the most graceful maneuver, but it would save his skin.

As Lynn rapidly approached the back of the train, he was soon able to count off the remaining compartments on one hand. If he didn't find somewhere to crash soon, he'd have to set up camp in the corridor for a few hours until the train pulled into Hogwarts. Not the almost appealing prospect.

Lynn crossed his fingers as he approached the last compartment, mentally praying that somehow the hundreds of other students had overlooked this particular compartment. At this point, Lynn didn't care if one of the benches was made of razor blades or if the compartment floor was on fire. Anything would be better than wandering up and down the Hogwarts Express corridor.

Glancing inside, Lynn felt his heart leap. The door to the compartment was wide open, and there wasn't a soul to be seen. Grinning giddily, Lynn quickly slid inside and sealed the door behind him. After clicking the lock, Lynn sighed with relief, falling backwards onto one of the benches. He closed his eyes and leaned backwards, continuing to grin happily. Sure, he didn't have any of his belongings, but at least he would have some privacy until the train finally arrived at its destination.

Hoot.

Lynn clenched his eyes shut tight, gritting his teeth. Oh, you have got to be joking. Opening one eye a fraction of an inch, Lynn found himself staring directly at a caged barn owl, which was staring back at Lynn with a mix of curiosity and annoyance. Feathers poked out of the creature in random directions, making the owl seem disheveled and a little bit unbalanced. The cage itself was sitting atop a thin packing trunk, which Lynn hadn't noticed when he had first entered the compartment.

Lynn closed his eyes again, cursing under his breath. Rather than finding an empty compartment, he had ended up stealing someone else's. Lynn sighed, stubbornly refusing to open his eyes as he reached out and, after a few moments of fumbling, managed to undo the lock on the compartment door. Abandoning the compartment was out of the question. There wasn't anywhere else Lynn could move to. For now, he might as well wait until the occupant of the compartment came back. After all, it was only one student who would be returning to the compartment. There was no way that Lynn could cause them too much trouble.

Right?

Okay, I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter! Quick reminder that I do still need the teachers listed on the class list page. Thank you for all the wonderful submissions, and I hope you enjoy the story.