Love at First Sight (Harry Potter)

The Dementor

|ALEXANDRIA WEASLEY'S P.O.V|

The morning rolled in with very bright sunlight. It shone through the open curtains and over my eyes as I stared at the ceiling above me, but it wasn't the reason I awoke.

I had barely slept. The images of Sirius Black plagued my mind; him thrashing against the Aurors, his wild eyes alight, all while screaming an inaudible tale. I pictured him entering Hogwarts, and passing by him in the corridors while with Harry. I imagined him chasing behind us, still screaming only now we could hear what he was saying.

There was a loud knock on the door. I sat up on my elbows, peering over Hermione asleep in her bed and toward the source of the noise. Another knock. I sighed when neither girl stirred, finally pushing the blankets off of my legs and stepping onto the cold, wooden floorboards. I tucked my hands into the pockets of Charlie's old jumper, hurrying over. When I pulled open the door, I was met with the smiling face of the Leaky Cauldron's owner: Tom.

"Goodmorning, Miss Weasley," he greeted, peering around my head and into the room to see if Hermione and Ginny were awake yet. I heard the girls beginning to move around. He was carrying a tray with three mugs, which he held out to me steadily. "Hogwarts today, you cannot be late. Tea?"

I smiled in gratitude, taking one of the mugs. It was warm beneath my fingers, a drastic change from the chill temperature in the room. I held the mug with both hands to accept the warmth. In a flash of bushy brown hair, Hermione had appeared. She grabbed a mug, saying a quick, "Thanks, Tom!" and then Ginny a moment later with the same quick snip. His tray now empty, Tom gave me a careful bow and continued off down the hallway: the smile still ever present on his face. I watched him go for a moment, wishing that everyone I knew could share his great happiness.

With a sigh, I kicked the door shut and turned to face the girls in the room. Ginny was tugging her hair up with a purple bobble, a colour that greatly contrasted her ginger hair. Hermione was piling all of the books she had read the night before back into her trunk with one hand, the other holding the mug of tea to her lips.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Ginny once she had finished with her hair. She was rather blunt in the morning.

"Nothing," I dismissed with a careful shake of my head, taking a sip from my drink as I walked over to begin fixing my bed.

The image of Sirius Black reappeared in my mind, but I didn't feel that it was my story to share. Harry and I had over heard it together, yes, but I wasn't the one in danger. Although I'm sure he will want to tell Hermione, I'm not as sure about Ginny. She simply wouldn't understand, for she would most likely cry at the mere thought of her Harry dying.

Fifteen minutes passed very slowly but, in that time, we had finally managed to finish cleaning up the room. All the while Hermione was watching me, seeming to have noticed that something was actually bothering me. She didn't question it, probably having assumed that I didn't want to tell in front of my sister — who had spent the entire time babbling on about how nice Harry's eyes are.

I had dressed into a worn pair of Muggle dungarees and the pale blue, Weasley jumper that my mother had knitted me the Christmas prior. My pajamas were now tucked away back into my trunk, along with every personal possession other than Amara and her metal cage. Hermione and I followed Ginny out of the room; Ginny continued on about Harry even in the hallway, bouncing on the heels of her feet as I locked the door behind us.

The pub was bustling with people and noise once we stepped inside. It was very bright, compared to the night before, with the fire blazing once again. Harry tried to approach the three of us with Ron, but then my mother pushed us into empty seats away from one another around the table encouraging us to eat breakfast quickly.