Leave Out All The Rest

Aboard the Hogwarts Express

[AN]: Hey, lovely readers! So, the first couple of chapters take place in their early years just to establish who they are as individuals (and because I had no idea what I was doing when I started writing this). Nonetheless, I really hope you enjoy this. 

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Chapter Two: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

POV: Rose

One compartment, three people. Second compartment, five people. Third compartment, four people. Fourth compartment, a couple snogging. Fifth compartment—well, that's pretty much how it went for almost an hour. I was inclined to send out a very angry owl to the Board of Education responsible for the Hogwarts Express not being equipped to hold all the students attending this year, but when we looked into the fifty-fifth compartment, Al threw his arms up in victory.

"This one!"

"Not that I exactly minded wandering the train—"

"Especially because you have a list of improvements and violated regulations you plan to bring up with the Headmistress when we arrive," Al retorted with an eye roll that I ignored.

"But how do our relatives stand it? All that staring. Merlin, you'd think Kingsley was walking past them wearing a bright pink tutu and singing Celestina Warbeck."

"Oi," Al frowned now. "Grandad Arthur said I was the only one he told that story to!"

Now I rolled my eyes. "Please, Al. Grandad tells that story whenever Aunt Ginny slips whiskey into his tea."

"Whatever. Just do what James does," he said, bitterness in the name of his brother, "and think it's because we're that good looking."  

"I think you're mistaken. While, yes, James thinks he's that handsome, he enjoys the parade that follows your family. He's quite full of Potter pride, that one."

Al scoffed, tearing into the licorice wand he had purchased from the trolley lady when we were on our twenty-seventh compartment and needed snacks to give us energy to continue the search.

"Tell me about it. He came back from his First Year and suddenly his ego had inflated his head three sizes we both couldn't fit in the same room together."

I thought about moving to his side of the compartment, putting an arm around his shoulder (as I usually did when he was upset), but Al was past that now. He hasn't told me directly, but I knew he was more than a little resentful that James had shipped out of their shared bedroom, deciding he was too cool for his little brother now that he was making a reputation for himself back at Hogwarts. James had always been a little arrogant, but now it came in Gryffindor colors that were too bright for Al to see.

"Don't idolize him," is what I said to Al. "He's twelve. He's not impressive at all. You have nothing to worry about."

"Easy for you to say," Al mumbled. "You're a Weasley. Every Weasley lands in Gryffindor. The House name mind as well change to your surname. But me? I've got Dad's genes—and we all know there is something faulty about them."

Although I knew genetics had nothing to do with being sorted to a certain Hogwarts House, I still held my tongue from correcting him. It's not like Al was totally wrong. From the books I've read (and was allowed to read since Mum did not think certain History books were appropriate for my age, or others were just rubbish and not up to standard), Uncle Harry had never been an advocate for sanity.