PROLOGUE
I clutch Ron's hand. Usually, he would pull away, making a noise of disgust and telling me to get off, a typical brother. But today he clings back; he too is nervous as I am.
Our mother fusses around us, straightening our coats and reminding us for what seems like the 800th time that we are to do as we're told and try our hardest. Our father hangs back slightly, waiting for his wife to finish so that he may say goodbye himself.
She's like this every year - Mum I mean. It's always worse when there's someone else going for the first time. The woman struggles to keep herself together when it's just another year. But as soon as more of her chicks 'fly the nest,' she breaks down and it's as if the Third Muggle World War has started.
I feel sorry for Ginny. She hides behind our mother so that we can't see her tears. It must be tough being the youngest. When you have seven siblings all older than you, who are enjoying the wonders of magic and you're stuck at home with your parents and the promise that 'next year it'll be you,' it can't be easy.
I let go of Ron's sweaty hand for a moment, so that I can crouch down next to my little sister and give her a hug. Her red curls smell like peppermint as they're pressed into my face. "Be good Ginny, I'll see you at Christmas. And I'll write every week," I promise. Ginny's bottom lip juts out and she wraps her arms around me. "I love you, Li," she whispers through her tears.
One of my brothers - Fred - taps me on the shoulder and tells me to get a move on, the train is leaving any minute. I give my mother one final hug and kiss Dad on the cheek, before Ron takes my hand again and pulls me after Fred and George, who have already disappeared onto the train and are no doubt already laughing with their 3rd Year friends.
As Ron pushes me onto the train, I stick my head back out and take a final glance at my parents. They're beaming with pride at the fact that two more of their brood of 8 have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't proud too.
"Come on Li, the train's about to leave." Ron announces. He lets go of my hand now that there are people our own age all around, just as I expected, but I don't make an attempt to grab it again and embarrass him. I follow him faithfully as we work our way down the train, searching for an empty cabin. Whilst doing so, the horn blares and the train moves into motion, pulling out of King's Cross and into the countryside beyond.
There are so many students milling around that it's hard to move. Some of them are 1st Years, like Ron and I, and some are even 7th Years who loom above us, chatting to their giant friends about what they did in the summer. It's hard to believe that once they were our size, searching for an empty cabin just as we were.
Ron finally finds somewhere. He sticks his head in and asks the lone occupant, a boy with thick rimmed glasses and black hair who looks about our age if we can join him. The boy beams, seeming happy to have company, and I wonder why he is alone. Perhaps he is unfortunate not to know anybody, unlike Ron and I, who are lucky enough to know many of the people that we'll be at school with, thanks to our parents and the tight-knit wizard community.
Ron plonks down opposite the boy, introducing himself immediately with a care-free grin. He holds out his hand for the boy to shake and I roll my azure eyes. "Oh, this is my twin sister, Juliet." Ron takes a bite from the apple that he's been holding in his other hand, making a loud crunching noise. I grimace as the juice runs down his chin. My brother has no decorum whatsoever.
The boy gives me a friendly smile. I examine him carefully. He's skinny and not particularly tall, but not short either. His black hair is straight and combed slightly to the side. His clothes are old and well-worn; the shirt too big and the trousers too short. His trainers are scuffed but you can tell that he's made an effort to try and polish them. It appears, like us, that he tries to take pride in his appearance, but doesn't have much money to do so.
"I'm Harry," he tells me in a polite tone. "Hello," I breathe, before taking a seat besides Ron and fishing a book entitled 'Madame Tinkly's Guide to Potions' from the bag that hangs over my shoulder. Ron pinches my arm, and stares at Harry with an open mouth. "You're Harry Potter!" He declares proudly, as if he cannot believe his eyes.
This has piqued my interest. I close my book and watch as the boy blushes and nods his head slowly. "So is it true, about the..." Ron lowers his voice "scar?"
I punch him in the ribs. "Ronald, you can't ask someone that! I'm so sorry." I apologise to Harry, and in return he gives me a smile. "It's ok," he lifts his fringe of black hair to reveal a scar in the shape of a lightening bolt. Ron and I stare at it, transfixed at the lightening shaped imprint in Harry's forehead. To say that I wasn't curious too would be a lie. Just like everybody else, I had wondered if the famous Harry Potter (who was our age) would be going to Hogwarts with us, and - if he was - would he truly have the scar that the stories told about?
Harry lowers his fringe and gives us a smile. "Wicked," Ron comments, holding his hand up for Harry to high five. I jab him in the ribs again with my elbow; he truly has no sense about what you should and shouldn't say.
I return to my book whilst Ron chatters away to Harry, who looks slightly taken aback but nonetheless patiently answers all of Ron's questions. Before long Harry has worked up the confidence to ask Ron questions, mostly about our family and if we've known that we were wizards all of our lives.
"Well, me and Li have 6 brothers and a sister." Ron comments in between chewing the foul sandwiches that Mum made for us. "Li and I," I correct him, not looking up from my book. Ron ignores me, but Harry chuckles slightly and I flash him a smile.
From his pocket, Ron pulls out a picture and beckons for Harry to move over to the seat. I move up so that he can squeeze in the middle of Ron and I. "Thank you," Harry mutters quietly to me. "This is my brother Bill, he's great, he's working in Egypt right now as a Curse Breaker, pretty cool if you ask me. But not as cool as Charlie, he works with dragons! When I'm older, he says that he's going to teach me how to look after them!"
He jabs his finger at the photograph, a picture I hate taken last Christmas. I hate the picture because it has my entire family in it, and I stand out like a sore thumb amongst them. All of my siblings and parents have the fiery red hair that people associate with the Weasley family, whilst I somehow managed to inherit chestnut brown locks. I don't have the freckles either, just the pale skin and bright blue eyes to confirm that I am actually a Weasley.
"This is Percy, he's the Prefect of Gryffindor, where me and Li are going. You'll probably be put in Gryffindor too - all the best people are." He gives a little chuckle to himself. "This is Fred and George, they're twins like us. Everyone loves them, because they're so funny! It's impossible to dislike them!" Finally, he points out Ginny, who is perched on Charlie's shoulders beaming for the camera. "That's Ginny, she's the youngest." He folds the picture back up and pushes it into his pocket.
"You're lucky, I don't have any siblings. I have my cousin, Dudley, but I hate him." He glares out of the window, and I can't help but wonder how he can hate someone that he's related to. Sure, my brothers and sister annoy me and I sometimes dislike them immensely, but hate? Hate is a very strong word.
A gentle voice outside in the aisle calls "Anything from the trolley?" The cart - pushed by an elderly woman with candyfloss-coloured hair and a crooked yet gentle smile - stops outside our compartment. "Anything from the trolley?"
I long to reach out and take everything I see; Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour-Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Lucinda's Liquorice to name but a few of the treats on display. But alas, I've no money on me, so I must be contented with the mushy sandwiches that my mother made for me. Ron appears equally as downhearted as me. So both of us almost jump out of our skin when Harry cries "We'll take the lot!"
I turn to look at him as if he's insane, but gasps with wonder when I see the handful of glistening golden coins that he's holding out to the lady. She can hardly believe her eyes either, but quickly takes the money and helps to give Harry his purchases before he can change his mind. When she disappears, skipping happily down the corridor with her now empty trolley, Harry picks up a box and stares at it. "I've never seen anything like this before," he mutters rhetorically.
I strain my neck to get a look at the label - Hetty's Honeysuckle Hearts - and lick my lips hungrily. "Oh, help yourselves!" Harry declares kindly. Ron doesn't need telling twice, he dives into the pile of sweets and pulls out a packet of liquorice and a chocolate frog. He's open the packet and stuffed the frog into his mouth before I can even decide which of the wonders to try first. We hardly ever have sweets at home, due to them being expensive, but when we're lucky enough to get a humbug or two from visiting relatives or friends, it's like heaven.
Harry struggles with a chocolate frog. I giggle slightly as enchanted piece of chocolate leaps out of the case and onto the window before Harry can catch it. "Careful!" Ron says with a grin as the frog leans too far out of the quickly moving train window and is swept out by the wind. "Rotten luck, what card did you get?" He asks inquisitively. Harry examines the small piece of card in the shape of a pentagon, before declaring "Albus Dumbledore."
Ron begins to go into an in-depth explanation of how many cards he has, how they work etc when someone - a girl with crazy curly hair and an disdainful expression - sticks her head into our compartment. She looks about our age, having already changed into her Hogwarts robes, she scans the cabin as if looking for something and if we're not there. Ron stops his one-sided discussion with Harry, who looks utterly dumbfounded by the concept of chocolate frogs, to stare at the girl. "Can we help you?" I ask politely, yet the girl sneers at me, looking down her nose as if I'm a piece of dirt on the bottom of her freshly polished black shoes. "Has anyone seen a toad?" She drawls in her upper-class accent. When we all give her dimwitted expressions, she rolls her hazel eyes and says "A boy called Neville's lost one.."
Ron looks at her as if she's lost her mind. "No," he grunts. The girl moves her attention to Scabbers - Ron's rat - and his raised wand, since he was just about to do some rubbish spell that one of the twin's had taught him that (supposedly) changed the rat's colour. "Oh, are you doing magic?" she asks in amusement. "Let's see then."
Ron clears his throat loudly, before proceeding with the spell. "Sunshine, daisies, butter-mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" He points his wand at Scabbers' head, and a spark flies from the tip of the wand, but all that happens is the box of Bertie Bott's from which Scabbers had been feasting flies into the air and lands on the floor. I chuckle to myself at Ron's failure, earning a glare from him, and Harry can't help but chuckle too. Even though he was brought up as a muggle, it doesn't take a genius to recognise Ron's failure.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the girl asks with her nose crinkled. "Well, it's not a very good one, is it?"
Ron looks at Harry and raises his eyebrows in disbelief at the girl's tone. Harry flicks his eyes towards her with a slight smirk, and even I scoff slightly at her. "Of course, I've only tried a few simple ones myself, but they've all worked for me."
She reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out her own wand, striding towards the end of the cabin and taking a seat down next to me. "For example," she announces, lifting her wand to Harry's face. "Oculus reparo." There was a fizz as the tape around Harry's glasses vanished into thin air and the frame repaired itself, until it was as good as new. Harry took the glasses off and stared at them in amazement. "That's better, isn't it," the girl crowed with a smirk.
Then, she turned to me and held out her hand for me to shake. "I'm Hermione Granger," she peers down her nose as I slowly take her hand and shake it formally. "Juliet Weasley." I reply quietly. Hermione decides that she's bored with talking to me, and much to my relief, turns her attention towards Ron and Harry.
"Hermione Granger," she shakes Harry's hand, he looks just as taken aback as I must have done. But he shakes her hand and feebly replies "Harry Potter." Her eyes grow to the size of saucers and suddenly she seems a lot more interested in us, or rather Harry. "Holy cricket!"
Harry gives a boyish shrug, as if he doesn't understand why Ron, Hermione and even myself reacted in this way when we discovered who he was. But if he doesn't know the story behind how everyone knows his name, then I won't be the one to tell him.
"And, you are...?" Hermione asks Ron. My brother looks up at her and takes a bite out of a chocolate frog before replying, "Ron Weasley."
"Pleasure," Hermione replies with a wrinkle of her nose.
"You three had better change into your robes, I expect we'll be arriving soon." She stares at Harry for a few seconds more, as if she wants to ask questions but her manners prevent her from doing so. Without a choice, she stands up and leaves our compartment as suddenly as she arrived, only pausing to tell Ron that he had a speck of dirt on his nose. With that, she flounced out, leaving us alone. "Strange one, her," Ron comments whilst taking a bite from a toffee apple that Harry bought from the sweet cart.
I peer out of the window and gasp at the scene. A lake stretches out for as far as I can see, surrounded completely by great mountains on all sides. Our train speeds along the lakeside track, but I could have sworn that I saw a mermaid leap out of the water and twirl through the air. With a happy sigh, I push my bookmark into the book and shove it back into my bag. "She's right, we're nearly here!" I can barely contain my excitement as I open my case and take my robes out.
They're nothing special, a knee-length grey skirt and grey socks, a grey jumper that is at the moment completely bare. However, when I'm sorted into Gryffindor, just as all of my siblings before me have been, it will have a red and gold collar and a matching red and gold striped tie. Worn over a white shirt and with the long black Hogwarts robe, I'll look like a proper student.
I pick up my clothes, all neatly folded by my mother, and leave Ron and Harry in the compartment. It doesn't take me long to locate the toilets on the train, one of which I enter and lock the door. It's a surprisingly pleasant toilet for a moving vehicle, but I don't waste anytime taking in the surroundings. Changing out of the jeans and pink sweater that my mother made me wear, I dress myself in the uniform.
There's a full-length mirror on one of the walls. I stare at my reflection and a smile cracks onto my lips. Though it's only the plain black and grey uniform that all 1st years are issued before they've been sorted, I feel immensely proud to be wearing a uniform with the Hogwarts insignia. When I'd tried the uniform on at home, my mother had been reduced to tears of pride. As I'm the oldest girl in our family and Mum couldn't for the life of her find her old robes from school, she had no choice but to buy me new ones. Therefore, whilst Ron's robes are tattered from being worn by Bill, Charlie, Percy and Fred, mine are brand new and perfect.
I remember the glittering pile of coins that Harry had in his pocket and wonder what it must be like to be rich; never having to worry about money and being able to buy what you want, when you want it must be a great feeling. I can't imagine the noise of all of those coins rattling around, knowing that they were exclusively yours to spend upon what you wished.
Someone raps on the door and shouts for me to hurry up. Not wanting to anger an older student, I quickly run my fingers through my long hair, getting rid of any knots, and sweep my pile of clothes into my arms. I step out to reveal a short, chubby girl who looks like a 5th year, perhaps even older. She pushes past me and locks the door on the cubicle I have just vacated. "Rude," I mutter to myself.
It's not very far back to the compartment. I'm surprised to find that Ron and Harry have both changed into their robes and are staring out of the window at the sight that awaits us. It's dark now, but we're pulling into a train station. I cram my clothes into my trunk and join them in staring. About two dozen people are already waiting on the platform, probably the young men hired from the local village of Hogsmead to move our cases off the train and bring them up to the castle. I watch as one man flicks his wand around, causing a large cart to roll over beside him and his partner. The man shoves his wand back into his pocket. That reminds me to take my own wand - a beech wand that's 10in and with a dragon heartstring core - out of my case. I shove it into the deep pocket of my black standard Hogwarts robe just as the train pulls to a stop.
It's like a scrum to get out of the compartment and off the train. People come from everywhere, all heading in the same direction, towards the tiny door that only allows one person to deboard the train at a time. Most of the people around are taller than me, despite the fact that I am fairly tall for my age, and it's hard to not get pushed over and trampled. I manage to get off the train and head towards the direction that seems to be shouting "FIRST YEARS OVER HERE!"
I stop in my tracks when I see the huge giant of a man that's waving his arms and bellowing for the first years to come to him. He's definitely the tallest man that I've ever seen - a great lumbering fellow with long brown hair and a long brown beard. His clothes are old and worn, the shirt barely doing up around his stomach. I strain my eyes and notice what looks like a dead ferret hanging from around his waist.
"Hagrid!" I hear Harry shout. Ron's mouth is open so wide that I pinch him and tell him to pick his jaw up off the floor. With a sarcastic glare that Ron flashes in my direction, we follow Harry over to the giant, with whom he is now in a deep conversation. "This is Juliet and Ron. Guys, this is Hagrid!" Harry tells us excitedly. Hagrid holds out his monstrously beefy hand to me. "Very nice to meet any friends of young Harry's. I'm the games-keeper here at Hogwarts." His hand is so big that it completely engulfs mine.
"First years over here!"
We wait until the entire platform seems to have cleared, and until the attendants have checked the train and ensured that there are no students lingering behind on there. Finally, he tells us to stick close together and follow him. "Don't wander off now," he warns as he leads the way out of the station and towards the black lake that I saw on the train. Behind me, I hear Hermione talking to another girl that I vaguely recognise but can't remember her name. "That's the Black Lake, I read about it. We're going in boats - that's how the first years always get to the school for the first time." She matter-of-factly states with a knowledgeable grin.
I see the water lapping against the 9 or so boats that are moored up at the water's edge. Hagrid tells us to get into groups of 4. I go with Ron, Harry and a girl with short black hair that I don't recognise. She doesn't say a word as the 4 of us clamber into the boat and gasp when they come to life, gently moving forward without us having to do a thing.
The boats all move at the exact same speed across the water. The journey is completely smooth and I don't feel the strong waves that seem to be crashing all around us. I don't understand however why we have to take the journey to the school via boat. That is until, we turn the corner, and I lay eyes on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the first time.
It shines like a beacon of light, illuminating the night and guiding us through the darkness of the night and the water. Towering hundreds of feet into the air with sweeping turrets and magnificent towers, hundreds of tiny windows with glittering lights shining through them. The brilliant building reflects on the choppy water, like a slightly distorted picture. I have to look up and check that it's real.
The moonlight shines high in the sky above and over the huge forest beyond the school. I pinch my arm, unable to believe that this stunning place is real and it will be my home for the next 7 years. I wonder which tower belongs to Gryffindor house, and where my dormitory will be located. I secretly hope that I can see the lake or the forest from my room.
The journey ends all too soon, but we are lured out of the boats with the promise of a magnificent feast waiting for us. Ron can barely contain his excitement at the thought of pumpkin juice and the sweet treats that Percy promised us would be there. Harry seems equally as excited at the pair of them discuss their favourite types of cake - Harry's being strange things like chocolate cake and carrot cake, Ron's favourite simply being all types - and Hagrid leads us up a torchlit path into the castle.
We make our way through the medieval palace and I wonder how I'll ever be able to find my way around. We're stopped at the top of a grand staircase by a tall cat-like woman with a tall pointy hat and an impatient stare. She examines us before introducing ourselves. "I am Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House and professor of Transfiguration. Shortly you will make your way into the Great Hall where your peers are waiting for you, and you'll be sorted into your houses..." She's interrupted by a cry from the group. "Trevor!" the boy screams. A rather plump boy rushes forward and scoops up a toad that has hopped next to Professor McGonagall's foot. I assume that he must be Neville, the boy Hermione told us about, and feel sorry for him as McGonagall gives him a glare that is so cold that I'm sure it could freeze a fire. Neville jumps back with the toad in his hands, mumbling an apology.
The professor disappears, telling us to wait here until she returns. I start talking to Ron and Harry when a tall boy with hair that's almost white steps forward and faces Harry. "So it's true then, what they're saying on the train, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." His voice is powerful and dictating, but Harry seems unfazed. I know who the boy is by the colour of his hair, he belongs to an awful family of pure-blood wizards that seem intent on proving how much better they are than everyone else, or so my father tells me. He works with this boy's father at the Ministry of Magic, and he insists that Draco Malfoy is every bit as awful as his father.
"I'm Draco Malfoy," he introduces himself to Harry, holding out his hand. Harry's about to shake it politely when Ron sniggers slightly beside me. Draco turns his attention towards my twin and glares at him. "Think my name's funny, do you?" He looks Ron up and down. The smile is gone from my brother's face as he waits for whatever insult Draco is cooking up. "No need to ask yours. Red hair... and a hand-me-down robe... you must be a Weasley." I feel my fists clench and I long to punch him is his smug face. He turns back to Harry and gives him a smile. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't wanna go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He sticks his pale hand out to Harry again, and I hold my breath. For a second, I see something in Harry's eye, and I think that he's going to take Draco's hand.
But he doesn't, instead he coolly replies "I think I can decide the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Draco's eyebrows raise and his hand shoots in. "Why you..." someone taps him on the shoulder before he can continue. All of us look up to see Professor McGonagall has returned and is giving Draco one of her stares. He immediately shuffles back into line with his two burly henchmen and I squeeze Ron's hand gently. He doesn't pull away.
"We're ready for you now."
We walk in together. The doors are flung open by some invisible force and I catch a glimpse of the Great Hall of Hogwarts for the first time.
4 tables that stretch for what seems like miles have been laid with silver cutlery. Students in perfect uniforms and curious faces stare at us as we make our nervous way up the aisle. The ceiling is the most interesting part however, as there appears not to be a ceiling, all I can see is the night sky, and a few constellations amongst the stars. The walls are covered with glowing lanterns and huge stained glass windows stretch nearly from the floor to never-ending ceiling. A thousand candles float in mid-air. I love magic. At the end of the room lies a 5th table, at which around 25 teachers are all sat. They're all completely different shapes and sizes, and I wonder what subjects each teaches. But my gaze is drawn to the man in the centre of it all, the pivotal piece. A long white beard stretches from his chin to the floor, crescent shaped spectacles perch on his nose and he appears to be smiling. There are many wrinkles in his face but age hasn't taken it's toll too badly. I know that he could still beat anyone in this room, maybe anyone in the world in a duel. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts.
We are all stopped when the 4 tables end and all that is before us is the teachers table and a three-legged stool. Placed on top of that is a tattered old cap that has been repaired more times than it's worth. Yet this hat is irreplaceable. The sorting hat is silent at the moment, but as soon as it is placed on someone's head, George told me that you can't get it to shut up.
"When I call your name, come forward, sit on the stool, and wait to be sorted." Professor McGonagall produces a scroll from her pocket, unravelling it enough to read the first name. "Hermione Granger," she drawls in her thick Scottish accent. Hermione pulls a face that anyone who didn't know her would take as nerves. I'd only known the girl for an hour, but she already struck me as someone who wasn't afraid of anything.
She perches on the stool and the hat is placed upon her head of bouncy curls. It deliberates for a moment, before screaming "GRYFFINDOR!" I sigh at the thought that I'll have to spend the next 7 years with Hermione. She jumps off the stool and skips down the steps in time to the claps and cheers of Gryffindor, all excited to have a new member.
"Draco Malfoy!" McGonagall bellows. Draco steps forward and with cocky self-assurance is sorted into Slytherin House, which surprises nobody.
"Susan Bones!"
"Hufflepuff!"
"Seamus Finnigan!"
"Gryffindor!"
"Isobel MacDougal!"
"Ravenclaw!"
The list goes on until it reaches "Ronald Weasley!"
I gives Ron's hand a supportive squeeze before letting go. I hear one of our brothers - probably Fred - heckle "GO RONNYKINS!" Everyone but Ron seems to find this funny, who shoots a glare at Fred before taking his seat. The hat is placed on his head. "Ha! Another Weasley, I know just what to do with you... GRYFFINDOR!" A wave of relief settles on Ron's face and I clap ecstatically. Fred and George start a chant at their table, and I giggle, now relaxed. If Ron got into Gryffindor, it should be easy for me.
Harry and I are the only two left now. He's called forward first, and everyone is straining their necks to catch a glimpse of the infamous 'Boy Who Lived.' Harry appears more nervous than Ron or anyone else for that matter, though I get the idea that he's not entirely sure why. He climbs up the steps with 200 pairs of eyes on him. Taking a seat, the hat is placed upon his head and begins talking.
"Hmm, difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage I see, not a bad mind either. There's talent, and a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you?" Harry lips begin to move and he shuts his eyes. "Not Slytherin eh? Are you sure? You could be great you know! It's all here, in your head. And Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, there's no doubt about that! No?"
Harry begins to chant "not Slytherin" again, this time louder and more desperate. "Well if you're sure, better be... GRYFFINDOR!"
Gryffindor let out a scream of ecstatic cheering at the fact that they've got Harry Potter in their house. I clap gently too, but I know that I'll soon be joining Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table. Professor McGonagall gives me a smile before booming "And last but not least, Juliet Weasley."
I hear chatter over tables, people asking if I'm a Weasley, why haven't I got the red hair? My cheeks blush red as I step up to the stool and perch on it. The hat is placed on my head, heavier than I expected, and it begins to speak.
"A Weasley! What can I see in your mind then, girl Weasley? You're smart and brave, with intelligence that your siblings are sadly lacking. There's a certain charisma about you too. Hmm, very difficult." He waits for a moment, and I get ready to jump up and take the seat in between Ron and Harry. Ron flashes me a grin and pats the seat next to him.
I stand up just as the sorting hat screams my house.
And it's not Gryffindor.
"SLYTHERIN!"