Harry Potter's Twin Book Two

Explanations

I woke up to a ringing in my ear. It took a moment for me to notice that it was actually a woman shouting.

“Beds empty!” yelled the woman, her voice full of fury and a little scary. “No note! Car gone – could have crashed – out of my mind with worry – did you care – never, as long as I lived – you wait until your father gets home, we never had any trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy-”

“Perfect Percy,” I was being carried bridal style, and the chest of the person holding me shook when they spoke. I knew the voice; it was Fred, and he was carrying me.

“YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!” the woman screamed, reaching her wits end. “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job-”

She went on screaming, her voice becoming hoarse, before, finally, it stopped.

“I'm very pleased to see you, Harry, dear,” the woman's voice became very kind and soothing. “What happened to her?”

I realized that I was still in Fred's arms, and I probably looked as breakable as glass. I cringed inwardly at the thought of appearing that weak, but my legs felt shakey and Fred was very warm.

“She passed out,” Ron mumbled. I wish he had said that I fell asleep.

“What? How? Why?” the woman was bewildered.

“Er...” I could hear Ron shift.

“The car ride,” Harry said hastily. “She gets – er – overexcited.”

I felt like kicking him. Way to make me sound like a spaz, brother.

“Oh,” the woman said. “Well, come in and have some breakfast.”

My eyes snapped open. I hadn't had a proper breakfast in a week, and I wasn't about to sleep through the chance of having one. It took my eyes a while to adjust to the bright light, but when it did, Fred was looking down at me with a raised eyebrow. I smiled at him.

“Will there be chocolate pancakes?” I asked him.

The woman, who I recognized as Mrs. Weasley, Ron's mother, smiled kindly at me. “If you would like some.”

“Yes, I would,” I climbed out of Fred's arms and tried not to stumble when my feet touched the ground. “And hello, Mrs. Weasley.”

“You two can share Ginny's room,” Mrs. Weasley was saying to Bonnie and me. “I'm sure she won't mind.”

“She won't mind at all,” Ron said, his mouth unsurprisingly stuffed with food. “She has been talking about Harry and Nixie all summer. Particularly you, Harry.” Ron's grin was mischievous.

“Yeah,” Fred's smile was wide. “She'll be wanting your autograph, Harry.” He caught his mother's eyes and bent his head.

“What? Harry has horrible penmanship,” I snorted. “Who would want that hanging on their wall?”

“I don't know,” Bonnie said slyly. “I would like Harry's autograph very much.”

Harry blushed while the Weasleys, excluding Mrs. Weasley, sniggered.

“Only joking, Harry,” Bonnie winked at him, before turning to Mrs. Weasley. “I'd actual like to go to sleep for a little. Which one is Ginny's room?”

“It's on the third floor,” Mrs. Weasley said politely.

“Good night, Slytherin,” I called to her.

“Good night, Gryffindor,” she called back.

Mrs. Weasley gave me a questioning look. “Slytherin?”

“Yes,” I said, hoping that she wasn't as prejudice as I used to be, and still kind of was. “But she's not as bad as the others. I said that she could stay with Harry and me since her parents...”

I trailed off, uncertain whether or whether not I should be telling anyone this. It wasn't really a big secret; all of the Slytherins already knew.

“Her parents – what?” Mrs. Weasley probably didn't mean to pry; everyone in the room besides Harry was interested.

“She – kind of – got – disowned,” my muttering was choppy.

“What for?” Mrs. Weasley asked. “She's a nice girl; she couldn't have done anything bad.”

“She was disowned for being a Slytherin,” I answered.

The Weasleys were going to ask more questions, but Bonnie came racing down and she grabbed my elbow. For a moment, I worried that she heard and was angry with me, but her expression was more sheepish than upset.

“What is it?” I asked.

Bonnie glanced uneasily at the Weasleys, who were staring at her. Reluctantly, I left my chocolate pancakes to go near the staircase, where they couldn't hear us.

“What is it?” I asked again.

“It's Ginny,” she muttered, her cheeks flushing. “She... scares me.”

I raised one eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“She keeps asking questions about you... and Harry,” Bonnie told me. “A lot of questions about Harry.”

“And that's scary because...”

Bonnie's sheepish look turned dry. “Just wait and see.”