Bill Weasly was just getting out of Gringotts for his lunch break and was strolling through Diagon Alley like he always did. On this particular day, he was deep in thought, reminiscing on his days in Hogwarts.
He remembered being climbing onto the Hogwarts Express for the very first time. Soon after he had escaped his mothers numerous goodbye hugs and kisses, he made his way to the walkway and started looking for empty compartments.
He had poked his head into one particular compartment to find a girl about his age sitting there and reading an unusually large book.
Bill smiled to himself. He had had quite the interesting relationship with that girl ... until she left after her first year.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" he had asked politely.
Without taking her eyes off her book, she mumbeled her acceptance of his presence, "Help yourself."
He settled down in the seat and observed her for a while. She seemed to be enjoying herself, scanning the pages rather quickly and once in a while, stopping at a particularly interesting part. He finally couldn't help asking, "What ya readin'?"
"Physics," she said in a monotone, looking up at him momentarily before casting her eyes back down toward the words that seemed to captivate her.
"Is it interesting?" he asked.
"Mmmm ..." she mumbled, sounding a little annoyed.
Bill smiled again at the recollection.
Then, as if pulled out of his memory, he saw her right in front of him. She was older, of course, but she had the same expression on her face. At first glance it seemed expressionless, vacant, but if you knew her well enough you knew that she was capable of just as much feeling as anyone else.
Bill pulled himself out of his reverie and approached her. "Miranda? Is that you?" he asked in a surprised tone.
~*^*~
Miranda had had to ask the bartender at the Leaky Cauldron to get her into Diagon Alley. She had given up her wand years ago when she decided to live as a muggle.
She, Declan, and Peggy were on an investigation of a cathedral that seemed to be haunted by a saint. She had left them happily arguing away on whether or not there actually *was* a ghost there and decided to take a trip down memory lane. She had planned to come here anyway, but she hadn't been quite sure when she would be able to get away. One thing was for sure, she could *not* tell Declan that she just happened to be a witch.
She had to laugh as she imagined what Declan's reaction would be. Of course, she knew that if he found out, he'd want to investigate, and Miranda wasn't quite sure if the wizarding world would appreciate being investigated.
So here she was, eating a strawberry sundae at Florean Fortescue's and reminiscing on her year at Hogwarts. She hadn't really had any friends, but that was to be expected.
Well, actually, there was one. That red-headed boy ... Bill. He was quite the character. She remembered the first time she met him, on the Hogwarts Express. She had been quite annoyed with him at the time because he wouldn't let her read.
"That looks like a very long book." his voice came to her memory.
Miranda had rolled her eyes. It was quite obvious that it was a very long book. She was currently reading the same sentence for the fifth time. Trying to ignore him, she concentrated on the words on the page.
"So what house do you think you'll be in?" he asked.
"I don't know." she answered irritably.
He seemed oblivious to the annoyance in her voice and continued on, "I hope I get into Gryffindor. That's where both my parents were and where my brother Charlie is right now. Do you have any brothers or sisters in Hogwarts?"
"No." she said truthfully. None of her brothers had ever gotten the unusual letter written in green calligraphy. But then again, they were all destined to work for the vineyard anyway.
"Really? What about your parents? What house were they in?" he asked.
"My parents are muggles." she said simply, hoping that this would be the end of the conversation. She was wrong.
"Really?" he said, his brown eyes widening, "I've never met a muggle born before. Is it true that you can talk to people who are miles a way with little thingamabobbers you hold in your hand?"
"You mean telephones?" she asked a little amusedly. Then she quickly forced a serious look on her face. "If you don't mind I would like to read my book."
"Oh," he said, sounding disappointed, "sorry."
"Miranda? Is that you?" a voice brought her out of her memories. She turned toward where the voice was coming from and saw a very tall man with long red hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had changed a lot, but there was only one person that this could possibly be: Bill Weasley.
He remembered being climbing onto the Hogwarts Express for the very first time. Soon after he had escaped his mothers numerous goodbye hugs and kisses, he made his way to the walkway and started looking for empty compartments.
He had poked his head into one particular compartment to find a girl about his age sitting there and reading an unusually large book.
Bill smiled to himself. He had had quite the interesting relationship with that girl ... until she left after her first year.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" he had asked politely.
Without taking her eyes off her book, she mumbeled her acceptance of his presence, "Help yourself."
He settled down in the seat and observed her for a while. She seemed to be enjoying herself, scanning the pages rather quickly and once in a while, stopping at a particularly interesting part. He finally couldn't help asking, "What ya readin'?"
"Physics," she said in a monotone, looking up at him momentarily before casting her eyes back down toward the words that seemed to captivate her.
"Is it interesting?" he asked.
"Mmmm ..." she mumbled, sounding a little annoyed.
Bill smiled again at the recollection.
Then, as if pulled out of his memory, he saw her right in front of him. She was older, of course, but she had the same expression on her face. At first glance it seemed expressionless, vacant, but if you knew her well enough you knew that she was capable of just as much feeling as anyone else.
Bill pulled himself out of his reverie and approached her. "Miranda? Is that you?" he asked in a surprised tone.
~*^*~
Miranda had had to ask the bartender at the Leaky Cauldron to get her into Diagon Alley. She had given up her wand years ago when she decided to live as a muggle.
She, Declan, and Peggy were on an investigation of a cathedral that seemed to be haunted by a saint. She had left them happily arguing away on whether or not there actually *was* a ghost there and decided to take a trip down memory lane. She had planned to come here anyway, but she hadn't been quite sure when she would be able to get away. One thing was for sure, she could *not* tell Declan that she just happened to be a witch.
She had to laugh as she imagined what Declan's reaction would be. Of course, she knew that if he found out, he'd want to investigate, and Miranda wasn't quite sure if the wizarding world would appreciate being investigated.
So here she was, eating a strawberry sundae at Florean Fortescue's and reminiscing on her year at Hogwarts. She hadn't really had any friends, but that was to be expected.
Well, actually, there was one. That red-headed boy ... Bill. He was quite the character. She remembered the first time she met him, on the Hogwarts Express. She had been quite annoyed with him at the time because he wouldn't let her read.
"That looks like a very long book." his voice came to her memory.
Miranda had rolled her eyes. It was quite obvious that it was a very long book. She was currently reading the same sentence for the fifth time. Trying to ignore him, she concentrated on the words on the page.
"So what house do you think you'll be in?" he asked.
"I don't know." she answered irritably.
He seemed oblivious to the annoyance in her voice and continued on, "I hope I get into Gryffindor. That's where both my parents were and where my brother Charlie is right now. Do you have any brothers or sisters in Hogwarts?"
"No." she said truthfully. None of her brothers had ever gotten the unusual letter written in green calligraphy. But then again, they were all destined to work for the vineyard anyway.
"Really? What about your parents? What house were they in?" he asked.
"My parents are muggles." she said simply, hoping that this would be the end of the conversation. She was wrong.
"Really?" he said, his brown eyes widening, "I've never met a muggle born before. Is it true that you can talk to people who are miles a way with little thingamabobbers you hold in your hand?"
"You mean telephones?" she asked a little amusedly. Then she quickly forced a serious look on her face. "If you don't mind I would like to read my book."
"Oh," he said, sounding disappointed, "sorry."
"Miranda? Is that you?" a voice brought her out of her memories. She turned toward where the voice was coming from and saw a very tall man with long red hair pulled back into a ponytail. He had changed a lot, but there was only one person that this could possibly be: Bill Weasley.