STRONG born October 6th, 2020

♫ these boots are made for walkin'

- nancy sinatra

"these boots are made for walkin'

and that's just what they'll do

one of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you..."

✧

"INCOMING!"

Priscilla and Nitara darted through the hallway laughing as coloured smoke bombs went off all around them. Their black mary janes clicked against the cobblestone as they ducked and pivoted around sitting students and fluffy cats. Nitara kept tossing half-hearted apologies and "look out!"-s behind her as she ran.

A pop of pink here, a dash of blue there, an explosion of red over a group of snobby Slytherins. Shrieks could be heard left and right as the two girls hopped over dormant bombs and lighting them up with a flick of their wands over their shoulders as they ran. Priscilla looked behind her to see an eruption of rainbow smoke in the Hogwarts corridor, unable to contain her laughter.

It felt amazing to finally let go, to finally feel truly alive and not just skating along.

"We really did it this time, Cilla!" Nitara called, beginning to panic as she always did.

"You worry too much, Nini," Priscilla laughed until she bumped into someone in front of her, hard. Nitara almost tripped over herself trying to stop behind her. 

Looking down at the two girls with a subtle smirk was none other than Professor Snape, the last person Priscilla wanted to see right now. "Going somewhere?" he asked in his signature monotonous, judgey tone. His brow was quirked with amusement like a predator catching prey.

"Okay, worry a little," she muttered to her friend under her breath. She closed her eyes and sighed in anticipation for the disaster to come."Fuck."

✧

Priscilla Roberts was sixteen when we first stepped foot onto platform 9 3/4. She tried her best to keep a brave face, but she knew she stuck out like a sore thumb. There was no doubt she was the oldest unsorted student on the platform, and everybody other than the nervous first years was reuniting with friends and already filing into compartments on the train. So many students were colour-coded in their house colours, red, yellow, blue, and green. Her father explained what they meant on the way to the train station, but she had already forgotten. As if she paid attention in the first place.

Trunks and cases littered the platform as everyone scrambled for a good spot onboard the train. Owls hooted as they were pushed around in their cages, and quidditch players laughed and clapped each other on the back, already in uniform and excited for this year's season. Her eyes followed them hungrily, itching to get on a broom. 

The hustle and bustle of the station were absolutely overwhelming for Cilla. It varied so much from the route to get to Ilvermorny, and it had been a while since she had been in a crowd filled with so many people.

She watched as parents hugged their children goodbye, crying, checking bags and limbs, and wishing them well. She fiddled with the strap of her bag and kicked a rock with her combat boot.

Her parents had hardly said goodbye as she got out of the taxi.

Cilla's dad refused to step foot on the platform, citing bad memories as his reason. She had replied something bitchy like "any memory is better than no memory," but it didn't help. She would never have a memory of a parent sending her off to school, even if she had the second chance to get it right.

Her parents were both Aurors in America, and they dealt with high-profile, very dangerous shit. Whatever they were doing (she still had no idea no matter how hard she tried to get the information) was so dangerous, she had to be sent to Hogwarts for her own protection.

Truth be told, she didn't mind leaving Ilvermorny. Her friends there treated her like dirt so a fresh start sounded like a great idea at the time.

But now, faced with so many Brits that already knew where they belonged, she was second-guessing herself.

She huffed, filled with determination, and made her way to walk onto the train.

"Incoming!!"

She was knocked upside the head with a bludger and fell down to her knees with a yell. Students began to run around her and her fallen bag as her head began to ache and she rubbed the sore spot with one hand, cursing to herself. Her hair was wild and curly, unkempt, and tossed over her eyes half-hazardly from the hit. 

Suddenly, someone grabbed her arm and helped her up gently, their other hand supportively on her back. "Are you okay? Don't mind them, they're idiots and unfortunately, they come in a pair," the girl explained.

Cilla looked up to see a girl with deep brown friendly eyes and long brown hair resting on top of her yellow robes. She was smiling at her politely, so Cilla smiled back through the throbbing of her skull. The girl looked over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out at the two ginger twins making their way over for their bludger. "You need to watch where you throw that thing! George, what did I tell you last year?" she scolded.

"Sorry about that, love," one of them said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

The other shrugged similarly. "It was Fred's fault, really."

"How is it my fault if you threw it, George?"

"It's a matter of perspective, you see..."

Fred whacked his twin with his broom upside the head with a chuckle then turned to Cilla, grabbing the bludger from Cilla's saviour. "What he's trying to say is he's sorry in his uh... way. You alright?"

Cilla nodded, still rubbing the bump forming on her head, "I thought you played quidditch on a field."

The boy named George snickered, "That is where the perspective comes in!" He looked to the girl to see if she liked his joke, but her unamused expression made him deflate a bit.

Fred crossed his arms and looked at Cilla curiously, "Is that an American accent I hear? Are you a transfer?"

If it weren't for how bad her head hurt, Cilla would think Fred was actually pretty cute.

"Goodbye, boys," the girl in yellow said, linking arms with Cilla and turning away from them, leaving them in their dust. "I'm Nitara Dayal, it's nice to meet you. I hope your head is okay," she introduced as they walked away.

Cilla took a deep breath, readying herself for the first of many introductions. "My name is Priscilla Roberts, but my friends call me Cilla."

"Was he right about you being a transfer student? American accent and no house robes is a pretty clear giveaway," she chuckled.

"It's my first year at Hogwarts... I transferred from Ilvermorny."

"Ilvermorny? That's so cool! I'd love to hear all about it, I hear there's an amazing library there. Hey, come sit with me and my friends," Nitara offered. 

As they walked towards the train, Cilla risked a look over her shoulder to survey the crowd once more. The twins were towards the back surrounded by other gingers, most likely his family, and a shorter bloke with dreadlocks and another girl with curly hair and a quidditch robe on.

Fred hadn't taken his eyes off of her, it had seemed. His eyes were narrowed curiously as he surveyed her, a smile ghosting on his lips.

Cilla turned back around, smiled, and accepted Nitara's offer, grateful that the hard part was over and already forgetting about the bump on her head, her mind filling with something else. Nitara seemed nice enough and would allow a good enough distraction. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to sit alone on the train. She'd grab a broom and fly all the way home across the ocean if she had to suffer through that.

The two girls boarded the train and began to walk down the aisle searching for a compartment, chit-chatting away. Students laughed and talked excitedly about the new year as an old witch pushed a cart of sweets around. She was the most popular woman on the train, a line almost as long as the train had formed behind her cart with students looking to get their fill before settling in.

"Oh, here you are! I was looking everywhere, you weren't in our usual spot," Nitara called as a frog leapt past their heads and a young boy chased after it. She had acted as if it was nothing out of the ordinary and opened the door to a compartment with two people inside. "Cedric, meet my new friend Priscilla," she introduced. "Oh, Cho! I didn't know you'd be joining us..."

Cedric stood up from where he was sitting next to a girl with blue robes and long black hair to shake Cilla's hand. He wore matching yellow robes to Nitara's and a small badge on his chest with a badger on it. What had her father said the yellow house was? Hufflebluff? She tried to keep her facial expression neutral, but she couldn't stop thinking about how she knew there would be hot guys in England, but this school was taking it to the next level. This Cedric guy was smoking and even reminded her of a moody pale guy back home.

"Hi, I'm Cedric and this is Cho," he said.

Cilla shook his hand, hoping her poker face was good enough to hide how overwhelmed she was by the amount of hot guys at this school.

After about an hour into the train ride, Cilla had learned a few things about her new friends. For starters, Cedric and Cho were definitely into each other. They were disgusting about it, always nudging each other on the knee or offering another a sweet. It turned her off Cedric immediately, that wasn't her kind of man.

On the other hand, Nitara didn't seem too pleased about it. Whenever Cho and Cedric were acting their worst, Nitara would allow herself to watch for a moment, scowl, then turn back to Cilla and launch into a long chat about Hogwarts and its history. Normally, Cilla couldn't give two shits about history, but Nitara made it seem much cooler.

Maybe this could work out after all. How bad could this be?

✧

"I wasn't going to say it in his office, but I think he let us off easy," Cilla said nonchalantly. She was walking Nitara back to the Hufflepuff common room from Snape's office later that day, hoping to grab a bite from the kitchens before they were due back for detention. Her tie was loose and slung around her neck like a scarf, and the top few buttons of her shirt were unbuttoned. Somewhere during her and Nini's colourful run, her tights had ripped, leaving a run ran all the way down her left leg.

"Cilla, we have to scrub the entire hallway we just stained with rainbow muggle smoke bombs and we have to clean it with our own toothbrushes," Nitara pointed out in terror, but it still didn't phase Priscilla. "This is my first detention!"

"So? We'll just enchant the toothbrushes, they won't know."

Nitara sighed at her friend. "They're gonna know."

"How will they know?! Also, this definitely isn't your first detention, you liar."