Hazel grew up as a Snape, but her life changes when she learns her real identity. She gains a twin brother, but at what cost? Join her as she navigates school, family, and love.
A new take on the Harry Potter series, where Voldemort is defeated by...
"We're a little way outside the village," said George. "Otter St Catchpole..."
Lower and lower went the flying car. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees. Hazel thought it all looked too wonderful for words; this was exactly the type of countryside that she wanted to live in when she was older, not those dirty sub-appartements that she and her dad stayed in, and not one of those boringly ugly little houses that the Dursley's owned.
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"Touchdown!" said Fred as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground. They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard and Harry looked out for the first time at Ron's house.
It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigsty, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several storeys high and so crooked it looked as though it was held up by magic (which, Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A loop-sided sign that was stuck in the ground near the entrance read "The Burrow". Round the front door lay a jumble of Wellington boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.
"It's not much," said Ron.
"It's brilliant," said Harry and Hazel at the same time, thinking of Privet Drive.
They all got out of the car.
"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," said Fred, "and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast. Then Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be all pleased to see Harry and Hazel and no one need ever know we flew the car."
"Right," said Ron. "Come on Harry, I sleep at the top and you can stay there for now, Hazel, but I'm sure Mum will let you sleep in Ginny's room—"
Ron had gone a nasty greenish colour, his eyes fixed on the house. The other four wheeled around.
Mrs Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket.
"So," she said.
"Morning, Mum," said George, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.
"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" said Mrs Weasley in a deadly whisper.
"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to —"
All three of Mrs Weasley's sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them.
"Beds empty! No note! Car gone...could have crashed...out of my mind with worry...did you care?...never, as long as I've lived...you wait until your father gets home; we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy..."
"Perfect Percy," muttered Fred.
"YOU COULD DO WITH A TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred's chest. "You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have cost your father his job—"
