I didn't know Ron had such a big family.
But here they were. And apparently it wasn't even all of them.
I sat wedged between Ginny and Hermione. Ron's mom, Mrs. Weasley (who was, as far as I was concerned, the kindest woman I'd ever met), asked me about America and Ilvermorny. Percy Weasley, Ron's older brother, asked what I'd studied there and wanted to know what career I wanted to go into when I'd finished school. I told him I wanted to be a healer.
The twins, Fred and George (whom I can't tell apart) asked me if I'd ever pranked anyone. I told them I had, and mild versions of what I'd done. I did not tell them I'd pulled these pranks with children of Hermes. They wanted to pull these pranks with me sometime soon.
Ginny, Ron's younger sister, wanted to know about my friends in America. I told them about Alyssa and Lindsay, my friends from Ilvermorny. I told them about Thunderbird and my Quidditch team. I even mentioned Chiron was my guardian, but I didn't say anything about him being a centaur.
During dessert, Mr. Weasley mentioned he was renting a car from the Ministry of Magic. Percy asked why.
"It's because of you, Perce!" Fred- or George- said.
"Yes, and there'll be little flags on the bonnet-" the other one added.
"With HB on them-"
"For Humungous Bighead!"
The twins had been teasing Percy about becoming Head Boy. Everyone snorted into their dessert at this comment. Well, everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley.
"Why are the Ministry lending us cars, father?" Percy repeated, annoyed.
"Well, there are a lot of us, and seeing as we haven't got one anymore..." He trailed off, and I could tell he had been lying about the first part. I caught Harry and Ron exchanging a guilty look and I wondered what happened.
After we'd finished dessert, we went upstairs to finish packing. I was in the room next to Ron and Percy, and I wondered what went through the Mrs. Weasley's mind when she paired them up. I didn't understand the logic of it. Those two argued louder and more aggressively than an Aphrodite child and a Huntress of Artemis.
The next day, my grandmother arrived to take me to King's Cross.
Grandma'am was supposed to have been there the previous day, but she'd ended up going who knows where else instead. She'd promised to go to King's Cross with me to make up for it.
Not long after we'd finished breakfast, Grandma'am came sailing into the pub. She was wearing a royal blue feather boa, which matched her royal blue robes.
She spotted me and came over. "Aisling, darling, come here and say hello to your grandmother."
I hugged her awkwardly. "Hey, Grandma'am."
She scoffed. "I have told you not to call me that. And speak properly when you talk. 'Hey' is for horses."
"Yes, Grandmother," I corrected myself. "Uh, these are the Weasleys."
"Charmed," Grandma'am said to Mrs. Weasley, but she didn't look very charmed. "Thank you for looking after my dear granddaughter, I hope she wasn't any trouble."
I winced. She was doing it again, treating people like they were her servants. But Mrs. Weasley smiled graciously and replied, "No trouble at all, Mrs..."
"McKeon," Grandma'am said loftily. "Dorothy McKeon."
Then she saw Harry, and she was a lot nicer.
"Truly an honor to meet you," She said.
"Er, thanks," Harry said, looking uncomfortable.
We drove in the Ministry cars to the station and Grandma'am gave me what she considered inspiring beginning-of-year advice. "I do not care which House you are sorted into, as long as you bring pride to the family name."
"Yes, Grandmother."
She gave me a brief hug and left. I got onto the train.
"I wish she was a more present grandmother," I muttered. "I mean, she gives me an allowance, but two hours a year of visiting time?"
"What about your parents?" Ron asked. "What happened to them?"
"My dad barely knows I exist and my mom died when I was five," I told him shortly.
Ron had no response.
We found an almost-empty compartment. There was a man leaning against the window, fast asleep. He was middle-aged and had scars on his face. He seemed a bit sickly.
"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron asked as we sat down and Harry shut the door.
"Professor R.J. Lupin," said Hermione immediately.
"How do you know that?"
"It's on his case," I said, pointing to the overhead luggage rack, where there was a small, battered suitcase. His name was stamped across one corner.
"Wonder what he teaches," I said, placing Jab's kennel on my lap and opening it. Jab muttered about corn and rodents as he scurried out and tried to climb up onto my shoulder.
"Well, there's only one vacancy," Hermione said. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"I heard the Hogwarts DADA professor is cursed," I said. "Do the teachers really only last one year each?"
"Pretty much," Ron confirmed.
"There was Quirrel—" Harry began.
"Had You-Know-Who sticking out the back of his head," Ron interrupted.
"Then there was Lockhart—"
"Who was a total dud and Obliviated himself." Ron glanced at the new Professor. "Hope he's up to it. He looks like one good hex would finish him off."
"What were going to tell us, Harry?" Hermione asked.
Harry told us about the conversation he'd overheard the previous night between Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him. It was perplexing. Why would Sirius Black go after Harry?
"Sirius Black escaped to come after you?" Hermione exclaimed, lowering her hands from covering her mouth. "Oh, Harry, you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble."
"I don't go looking for trouble," Harry replied. "Trouble usually finds me."
"I can relate," I said. "But I don't think you'll have to worry. I mean, how stupid would Harry have to be, to go looking for a psycho who wants to kill him?"
"Exactly," Ron agreed shakily.
"Butter me up and call me a biscuit," Jab muttered.
"Okay, Biscuit," I replied, smiling nervously.
"I think that Jarvey is going to help a lot," Hermione said. "He helps kill the intensity of the dark conversation."
I snickered. "Like, emotional support comedian Jarvey."
"Exactly," Hermione laughed.
"What's that noise?" Ron asked.
There was a loud, high-pitched whistle coming from Harry's trunk. Harry looked inside and brought out a pocket Sneakoscope. Hermione seemed very interested in it.
"It's just a cheap Sneakoscope," Ron said. "It kept going off while I was trying to tie it to Errol's leg."
"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" Hermione asked suspiciously.
"No! Well, I wasn't supposed to use Errol for such a long-distance delivery," Ron admitted. "Not really up to it. But how else was I supposed to give Harry his present?"
Stick it back in the trunk," Harry advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, "or it'll wake him up." He nodded toward Professor Lupin. Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope into a pair of old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.
"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," said Ron, sitting back down. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me."
"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione keenly. "I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain."
"Me too," I piped up, glad to have something not depressing to talk about.
"Yeah, I think it is," said Ron in an offhand sort of way. "But that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes."
"What's that?" said Hermione and I at once.
"It's this sweetshop," said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, "where they've got everything! Pepper Imps—they make you smoke at the mouth—and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next—"
"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione pressed on eagerly. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion."
"And the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain," I added. "I'm so there."
"Me, too," said Hermione eagerly. "And not to mention—"
"—and massive sherbert balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word either of us were saying.
Hermione looked around at Harry. "Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?"
" 'Spect it will," said Harry heavily. "You'll have to tell me when you've found out."
"What d'you mean?" said Ron.
"I can't go. The Dursleys didn't sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn't either."
Ron looked horrified. "You're not allowed to come? But—no way—McGonagall or someone will give you permission—"
Then these huge gorillas burst in.
No, not real ones, just people who looked like they'd been halfway turned into gorilllas. Then between them was a blonde boy with a ferret-like face. I subconsciously glanced down at Jab.
"Well, look who it is," The blonde boy drawled. "Potty and the Weasel."
Judging from the way Hermione, Harry, and Ron were glaring at him, I could tell they weren't friends.
The gorillas chuckled trollishly.
"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," said the blonde boy. "Did your mother die of shock?"
Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor.
"Dumb blondes are dumb," Jab announced suddenly.
The blonde boy frowned in my direction. "What did you say?"
I scoffed. "That wasn't me, dummy. Seriously, have you never seen a Jarvey? It wouldn't be hard, your face looks like one."
My three friends all snorted.
Blondie sneered. "Probably a Mudblood."
I gaped. Was he for real? "Excuse me, what in Morrigan's name gives you the right to use that nasty word?"
"You're not Muggle-Born, then," The Blonde Jerk guessed.
"I'm half-blood, but what does it matter?" I demanded.
"It matters if you want to get in with the right crowd. I'm guessing you're new? I'm Draco Malfoy."
"I'm not interested," I retorted.
"Dumb blonde," Jab repeated.
Malfoy frowned at my Jarvey. "You need to control that thing."
"He hasn't said anything that isn't true," I snapped, picking Jab up and holding him protectively.
Malfoy huffed. "Wait until my father heard they let American rubbish in," he said.
I flushed, but before I could say anything, Harry stepped forward angrily. Professor Lupin snorted in his sleep.
That got Malfoy's attention. "Who's he?"
"New teacher," said Harry cooly. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"
Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed. Apparently he wasn't stupid enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose.
"C'mon," he muttered resentfully to his gorillas, and they disappeared.
Harry and Ron sat down again, Ron massaging his knuckles.
"I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year," he said angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and --" He made a violent gesture in midair.
"Freckled Ginger versus Dumb Blonde," Jab added helpfully.
"Yeah," Ron said. "This Jarvey knows what I'm saying."
"Ron," hissed Hermione, pointing at Professor Lupin, "be careful..."
But Professor Lupin was still fast asleep.
The rain thickened as the train sped on The sky gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks.
"We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.
The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.
"Great," said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast..."
"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.
"But why are we stopping?" I asked.
The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.
Harry, who was closest to the door, got up to look into the corridor.
The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and we were plunged into total darkness.
"Gah!" Jab said.
"'What's going on?" said Ron's voice.
"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"
I saw Harry's silhouette sit next to me. "D'you think we've broken down?"
"Dunno..." There was a squeaking sound, and I saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out. "There's something moving out there. I think people are coming aboard...."
The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry's and my legs.
"Sorry -- d'you know what's going on? -- Ouch -- sorry --"
"Hullo, Neville," said Harry. I stifled a laugh. The real Neville Longbottom was here.
"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"
"No idea -- sit down --"
There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain. Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks. Then he tried to sit on me.
"Sorry, Hermione!"
"Not Hermione," I said.
"Oh. Sorry."
"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came the real Hermione's voice. I felt her pass me, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.
"Who's that?"
"Who's that?"
"Ginny?"
"Hermione?"
"What are you doing?"
"I was looking for Ron --"
"Come in and sit down --"
"Not here!" said Harry hurriedly. "I'm here!"
"Couch potatoes!" Jab enthused.
"Ouch!" said Neville.
"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly.
Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. Harry could hear movements in his corner.
None of us spoke.
There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.
"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.
I gasped. Something felt wrong. I sensed something right out the door. A monster.
"No, wait!" I exclaimed, getting a good grip on my keychain. "Don't go out there. I need to deal with it."
"Deal with what?" Ron asked.
I didn't answer. I exited the compartment. I raised my keychain, and the charms grew in size. I nocked an arrow and shot. The arrow flew right through a strange, cloaked figure.
For a moment, I stared. I'd shot Enchanted Gold at it. Why hadn't it vaporized? I ran back into the compartment.
"Woah!" Neville exclaimed. "Where'd the bow and arrows come from?"
"What's out there?" Ginny asked. "Is it gone?"
"It didn't work," I said. I tried to get to my sword. Enchanted Gold didn't work, maybe Celestial Bronze would. I rummaged in my trunk and grabbed my knife. Everyone gasped as I lifted it out.
"Move," I said. "I need to--"
But the door slid slowly open before I could reach it.
Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was the cloaked figure. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood.
And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.
I threw the knife. The blade went straight through it, the same as the arrow.
An intense cold swept over us all. I felt my own breath catch in my chest. The cold went deeper than my skin. It was inside my chest, it was inside my heart.
Harry collapsed. He started twitching, his eyes rolled up in the back of his head.
My hands lit up, and I held them out in front of me, making the clawed motion us demigods use to ward off evil. The monster falters.
Brighter, I thought, and the light flashed blindingly. I focused on my favorite thing: The sun, how it was always there in the sky and how I thought of my father being the same way. How it always seemed cheerful and warm.
The monster swept out of the compartment.
Everyone looked at me. Shock was written all over their faces. Neville scooted away from me a bit. The man with the fire in his hand looked at me curiously.
"What," Ron said loudly. "Was that?"
I didn't say anything. I snapped my fingers. They all looked bewildered for a moment, but then, luckily, they seemed dazed. The Mist was working.
"You did not see me take down that monster with a bow and arrow." I said. "You saw this man shoot a spell at it. I was scared just like you. I was sitting just like you. Isn't that right?"
"Yes," they all mumbled in unison, and I finished and sat down, relieved.
Ron shook his head groggily. "What was that thing?" He wondered aloud.