Aboard the hogwarts express
"This bores me."
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ROSE KNEW she was back inside of the burrow's fireplace once she heard the shout of joy escaping from Mrs. Weasleys mouth.
"Ah, Dear! Thank Goodness! Beginning to worry, i was."
Rose was so pale she could have seen a ghost. Once she met Mrs. Weasleys gleeful eyes, she forced a smile and breathed out a small laugh, "Yeah."
She stepped out of the fireplace, her trunk following behind her. Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and grabbed the handle. "Here, Rose, Let me take it."
Rose stepped back a small bit so Mrs. Weasley could get it through. "What took you so long, Dear?"
Flashbacks of Brians face was prodding at her brain like a can of worms. She cleared her throat, shaking her head, getting the image out of her head. "Uh—couldn't—couldn't find my.. f.. favorite Slytherin necklace. Sorry."
Mrs. Weasley nodded, placing the trunk by the sofa. She then walked up to Rose and placed her hands on her shoulders. Rose's eyes widened, her eyes flickering to wear Mrs. Weasleys hands sat.
"I just want you to know that you are always welcome here. Yes, we are a big Gryffindor family. But that doesn't mean we wont accept you into out home. From what Ron's told me, you are a very sweet girl. What you're adoptive parents did to you is despicable. And i'm sure at some point it'll come back to haunt them someday. No child deserves that. Especially you. Also, Dear, you can call me Molly."
There was a small silence.
"Oh—um—" Rose wasn't used to affection like this in any way, shape, or form. So, unable to form the right words, she gently nodded. "Thank you."
Mrs. Weasley gave her a big warm smile, before gesturing toward the stairs. "I think i showed you where your room was, correct?"
Rose nodded.
"Alright then. Goodnight dear, we'll be waking up early in the morning so get a good nights sleep!"
————-
Rose didn't plan on telling anyone what happened. If it ends up slipping out, then it slips out. But hopefully not to the wrong person.
She thought, as she lifted her shirt above her head. She slipped into her bed, but not pulling the covers over her body just yet. Instead they were rested on her legs as the top half of her body sat against the headboard. As she was reaching over to open her trunk and make sure she had everything she needed, a knock came through the door.
She paused, looking up from her place in bed. "Yes?"
"Are you awake?" Harry's voice sounded from outside the bedroom door.
"No i'm sound asleep."
"Oh, sorry—"
"You dumbass, come in."
She heard the doorknob twist, and the door open as she leaned over the side of the bed to reach her trunk which was on the floor beside the bed.
"When did you—Oh—um—"
She looked up from the floor once more, seeing Harry standing there, with his hands awkwardly over his face.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Rose narrowed her eyes at him.
"Uh—you're shirtless—"
"So?"
"Um—it's—"
"Don't cream your pants, its a sports bra." She continued searching through her trunk, admiring her clothing choices.
He slowly took his hands off his face. "Sorry."
She grinned lightly and rolled her eyes. He didn't see.
He strolled over and sat at the corner of the bed. She finished checking her trunk, and zipped it up again. She then sat up and rested her arm on the top of the headboard. "Do you need something, Harry?"
"Uh—No."
"Then why are you in here?" She questioned, although it was more of a statement.
"Uh—"
"Why are you so nervous?"
"Why do you ask so many questions?"
"Well." She rose her eyebrows. "Why are you so awkward?"
"I guess i get it from my dad." He shrugged.
"Actually Sirius tells me that you're dad wasn't a very awkward person." Rose toyed with the fabric of the blanket.
"Sirius?"
"Yeah. We wrote to each other quite a lot this summer. I was able to write to him first, and share how he would be able to write to me without the letter being stolen by Amanda or Brian." She slightly smiled at the memory.
"..and you talk about my dad?" He furrowed his eyebrows.
"No, well sometimes, but he normally just tells me about his years at hogwarts. What all his friends were like. I can't believe Peter would do such a thing."
Harry frowned.
"Why are you sitting at the corner of the bed? You can come lay by me, you know." She stated softly.
"Oh—no it's alright—"
"Come on, Harry, i don't bite." She patted the blanket.
She then smirked. "Unless you want me to."
His eyes widened the size of saucers. "What?"
"Im kidding. Chill."
He awkwardly breathed out a laugh, before scooting over and sitting down next to her, accidentally pushing down on her wrist.
"Ah—" She winced, yanking her hand up.
"Sorry—" He apologized, before noticing her cradling her wrist. "What happened?"
She looked down at her hand and back up at him, "Nothing." She dismissed.
Before he asked again, she changed the subject. "So, did you need something?"
"Uh—yeah. Actually." He sighed.
"Okay, what is it?"
"How did you know you were bisexual?" He blurted out, completely catching her off-guard.
"Oh, um—"
"Never mind, you don't have to share, its none of my business—"
"Harry."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
"Sorry."
"It's okay, i don't mind sharing. So you know Lavender Brown, right?" She turned to face him.
He nodded.
"She became a pretty good friend to me in first year. I was getting over the death of—uh—a family member i had, and she comforted me. She'd play with my hair as i ranted to her. It was really nice to have a girl as a friend. But i soon realized i wanted more. Everything she did gave me butterflies. She made me blush sometimes. I really loved being around her. But she's straight. At least i think she is. She could have found her sexuality now, but in first year, i got advise from Blaise to try and kiss her. and well, lets say it didn't go very well. She completely dissed me, i won't say that it didn't hurt. She said "Eww." and i never spoke to her since. She ignored me. Dick move. But we were eleven. So i don't hate her, i don't dislike her at all."
"Wow." said Harry. "So that's how you figured out you liked boys and girls."
"Yep."
"Do you have.. a preference?"
"No, not really. Girls are hot, guys are hot, why not like both equally?"
He nodded.
"Harry?"
He looked at her.
"Do you have a crush on a boy?" She questioned.
He bit the inside of his cheek. "Maybe..."
She nodded, smiling, not wanted to invade him with questions. "Can you tell me who it is?" She tilted her head.
"Umm."
"You don't have to if you don't want to." She reminded him gently.
"Yeah, i know. I don't think I'm ready yet. I mean.. i only just met him."
"That's alright. It takes time to find the sexuality that fits you. And i won't tell anyone. So is that all you needed?"
"Yeah." He slipped out of the bed, "Thanks."
"You're welcome. Turn the light off on your way out, Harry."
Harry went to bed that night with two thoughts in his mind.
A girl.
And a boy.
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There was a definite end-of-the-holidays gloom in the air when Rose woke up the next morning. Heavy rain was still splattering against the windows as she got dressed in baggy blue jeans and a maroon sweat-shirt; they would change into their school robes on the Hogwarts Express.
She exited the room, down the stairs, and was about to the first floor when she noticed Harry, Ron, Fred, and George descending down the staircase as well. She caught up with them, and was about to say something when Mrs. Weasley appeared at the foot of the stairs, looking harassed.
"Arthur!" she called up the staircase. "Arthur! Urgent message from the Ministry!"
Rose flattened herself against the wall as Mr. Weasley came clattering past with his robes on back-to-front and hurtled out of sight. When Rose and the others entered the kitchen, they saw Mrs. Weasley rummaging anxiously in the drawers— "I've got a quill in here somewhere!"—and Mr. Weasley bending over the fire, talking to—
Both Harry and Rose shut their eyes hard and opened them again to make sure they were working properly.
Amos Diggory's head was sitting in the middle of the flames like a large, bearded egg. It was talking very fast, completely unperturbed by the sparks flying around it and the flames licking its ears.
"Who is that?" Rose asked to no one in particular.
"Amos Diggory. Cedric Diggory's father." Harry answered, also staring at the fire as though it was a dream.
"...Muggle neighbors heard bangs and shouting, so they went and called those what-d'you-call-ema—please-men. Arthur, you've got to get over there—"
"Here!" said Mrs. Weasley breathlessly, pushing a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and a crumpled quill into Mr. Weasleys hands.
"—it's a real stroke of luck i heard about it," said Mr. Diggory's head. "I had to come into the office early to send a couple of owls, and i found the improper Use of Magic lot all setting off—Rita Skeeter gets hold of this one, Arthur-"
"This bores me." Rose sighed.
"Me too." said Fred.
"Muuuum, we're hungry!" George whined to his mother.
"One minute, dear!"
"...ambushed by his dustbins." continued Mr. Diggory.
"What did the dustbins do?" asked Mr. Weasley, scribbling frantically.
"Made one hell of a noise and fired rubbish everywhere, as far as i can tell," said Mr. Diggory. "Apparently one of them was still rocketing around when the please-men turned up—"
Mr. Weasley groaned. "And what about the intruder?"
"Arthur, you know Mad-Eye," said Mr. Diggory's head, rolling it's eyes again.
Harry sighed, resting his head on Rose's shoulder. They were about the same height, so it wasn't difficult.
Fred and George turned to each-other and smirked.
"Can a worm feel pain?" Rose questioned Harry.
He furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would you ask that?"
"I'm curious."
"I don't know, Maybe."
"That's not an answer."
"Never mind, Amos," said Mrs. Weasley. "Sure you won't have a bit of toast or anything before you go?"
"Oh go on, then," said Mr. Diggory.
Mrs. Weasley took a piece of buttered toast from a stack on the kitchen table, put it into the fire tongs, and transferred it into Mr. Diggory's mouth.
"Oh so a literal head gets toast, but i get air." Rose threw her hands in the air.
"Fanks," Mr. Diggory said in a muffled voice, and then, with a small pop, vanished.
Rose could hear Mr. Weasley calling hurried good-byes to Bill, Charlie, Percy, and the girls. Within five minutes, he was back in the kitchen, his robes on the right way now, dragging a comb through his hair.
"I'd better hurry—you have a good term, boys—and girl—" said Mr. Weasley to Harry, Ron, Rose, and the twins, fastening a cloak over his shoulders and preparing to Disapparate. "Molly, are you going to be alright taking the kids to Kings Cross?"
"Of course i will," she said. "You just look after Mad-Eye, we'll be fine."
As Mr. Weasley vanished, Bill and Charlie entered the kitchen. "Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill asked. "What's he been up to now?"
"He says someone tried to break into his house last night," said Mrs. Weasley.
"Mad-Eye Moody?" said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. "Isn't he that nutter—"
"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," said Mrs. Weasley sternly.
"Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs doesn't he?" said Fred quietly as Mrs. Weasley left the room. "Birds of a feather..."
"Moody was a great wizard in his time," said Bill.
"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" said Charlie.
"Dumbledores not what you'd call normal, though, is he?l said Fred.
"I have no idea what we're talking about." said Rose. "But i don't care, can we eat please?"
"Who is Mad-Eye?" asked Harry.
"Of course you had to ask, stupid." She smacked his shoulder. "Now i have to wait longer and listen to them talk on and on..."
"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry," said Charlie.
Rose walked up to Ron. "Hey." She whispered.
He flinched, turning to look at her. "What?"
"Can you make me food?"
"Why would i do that?"
"Because you love me?"
"No."
"Damn it, Ron."
——————
The rain was coming down harder than ever, and they got soaked carrying their trunks across the busy road and into the Kings Cross station.
Rose was used to getting onto platform nine and three-quarters by now. It was a simple matter of walking straight through the apparently solid barrier dividing platforms nine and ten. The only tricky part was doing this in an unobtrusive way, so as to avoid attracting Muggle attention. They did it in groups today; Rose, Harry, Ron, and Hermione (the most conspicuous, since they were accompanied by Pigwidgeon and Crookshanks) went first; they leaned casually against the barrier, chatting unconcernedly, and one by one they slid sideways through it... and as they did so, platform nine and three-quarters materialized in front of them.
The Hogwarts Express, a gleaming scarlet steam engine, was already there, clouds of steam billowing from it, through which the many Hogwarts students and parents on the platform appeared like dark ghosts.
"Ew. Children." Rose complained.
"You were a child once too, Rose." said Hermione.
"So?" She shrugged. "These children are icky.. smelly.."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
Pigwidgeon became noisier than ever in response to the hooting of many owls through the mist. Rose, Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off to find seats, and were soon stowing their luggage in a compartment halfway along the train. They then hopped back down onto the platform to say goodbye to Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie.
"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny goodbye.
"Why?" said Fred keenly.
"You'll see," said Charlie. "Just don't tell Percy i mentioned it... its classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it, after all."
"Yeah, i sort of wish i were back in Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train.
"Why?" said George impatiently.
"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it..."
"A bit of what?" said Ron.
But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs. Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.
"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out the window to talk to her.
Rose walked away back to their compartment and sat down by the window. Soon enough, Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the compartment as well.
The thick rain splattering made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his maroon dress robes, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.
"Bagman wanted us to tell is what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Hermione. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what—"
"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger against his lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Rose, Harry, and Ron listened, and heard a familiar drawling voice drifting in through the open door.
"...Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the Headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore—the man's such a Mudblood lover—"
Rose and Hermione rolled their eyes at that sentence.
"—and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do..."
Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoys voice.
"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he had gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."
"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.
"Finally, you get something right." Rose rewarded him sarcastically.
"Yes," said Hermione sniffily, "and its got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts."
"I think i've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"
"Well, nobody knows, do they?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.
"Why not?" said Rose.
"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their where-abouts so nobody can steal their secrets," said Hermione matter-of-factly.
"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts—how are you going to hide a great big castle?"
"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, in surprise. "Everyone knows that... well, everyone who's read Hogwarts, A History, anyway."
"So just you then." said Rose.
"Go on—how'd you hide a place like Hogwarts?" said Ron.
"It's bewitched," said Hermione. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying Danger, Do Not Enter, Unsafe."
"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?"
"Maybe," said Hermione, shrugging, "or it might have Muggle-repelling Charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable—"
"Come again?"
"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"
"Er... if you say so," said Harry, laying down and placing his head in Rose's lap.
"I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Rose thoughtfully, as she starting playing around with Harry's hair. Harry felt butterflies in his stomach as she did so. He sighed quietly, recognizing the all too familiar feeling. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."
"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would take been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident... shame his mother likes him..."
The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The linch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron cakes for them to share.
Several of their friends looked in on them as the afternoon progressed, including Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, extremely forgetful boy who has been brought up by his formidable witch of a grandmother. Seamus was still wearing his Ireland rosette. Some of it's magic seemed to be wearing off now; it was still squeaking "Troy—Mullet—Moran!" but in a very feeble and exhausted sort of way. After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, and started trying to learn a summoning charm.
Neville listened jealously to the others conversation as they relived the Cup match.
"Gran didn't want to go," he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."
———————
They continued chatting for the rest of the journey, changed into their school robes, and was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.
As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the trian, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.
"Hi hagrid!" Harry yelled, seeing a gigantic silhouette at the far end of the platform.
"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"
First year's traditionally reached Hogwarts Castle by sailing across the lake with Hagrid.
"Oooh, i wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark platform with the rest of the crowd. A hundred horseless carriages stood waiting for them outside the station. Harry, Ron, Rose, Hermione, and Neville climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track and toward Hogwarts castle.
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