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Aurora Areli
ON SEPTEMBER FIRST, I woke up earlier than usual to Hermione and Ginny moving around the room, getting dressed and double-checking their trunks.
"Oh, good, you're awake," Hermione said to me, as she helped Ginny force her trunk shut. "We were just about to go down to breakfast — everyone's running a little late, and Mad-Eye's worried Sturgis Podmore isn't going to show up for Harry's guard."
I covered my mouth with my hand when I yawned. "Sorry. I'm up. Breakfast, running late — right."
"Glad we're on the same page," Ginny said, thumping her now closed trunk with her foot triumphantly.
"Mmhm," I nodded, still not fully awake. My eyelids were so heavy, and the blankets were so warm and inviting . . .
Next thing I knew, my eyes were flying open again at the sound of angry screaming and crashes on the floors below me.
"— COULD HAVE DONE HER A SERIOUS INJURY, YOU IDIOTS —"
"— FILTHY HALF-BREEDS, BESMIRCHING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS —"
Looking around, I realised the room was now empty, and, confused, I glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. My eyes widened upon seeing the time, and I cursed loudly before hurriedly untangling myself from my quilt and frantically changing out of my pyjamas into real clothes.
Five minutes later, I was simultaneously buttoning my jumper, dragging my trunk out of the room and panicking about the time.
"WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE NOW, PLEASE!" Mrs Weasley bellowed from downstairs.
As I was heading down to join everyone, I spotted Harry going the same way. He looked like he was having as hard a time as I was, especially with Hedwig. Jupiter's cage wasn't in the bedroom earlier, so he must've already been downstairs.
"Late start?" I asked, finally having gotten my clothing situated.
"Yeah," Harry said, sounding tired already.
Mrs Black's portrait was howling with rage but nobody was bothering to close the curtains over her; all the noise in the hall was bound to rouse her again, anyway.
"Harry, you're to come with me and Tonks," Mrs Weasley shouted over repeated screeches of "MUDBLOODS! SCUM! CREATURES OF DIRT!" "Leave your trunk and your owl, Alastor's going to deal with the luggage . . . oh, for heaven's sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!"
A bear-like dog had appeared between Harry and I as we clambered over various trunks cluttering the hall.
"Oh honestly . . ." Mrs Weasley said despairingly. "Well, on your own head be it!"
