CHAPTER 1
Bernadette pointedly ignored the odd looks and disapproving glares her hooting owl attracted in the muggle side of Kings Cross Station. After all, they were unused to seeing owls being carted around through busy train stations by disheveled teens, though she doubted she was the first one to do so today.
More like the last.
Gritting her teeth, she swerved around a short businessman and a mother with jumpy toddlers hanging onto her fingers, both of whom frowned at her retreating back. She mentally flipped them off. Even without Kiwi screeching and scratching her cage indignantly, Bernadette would have received dirty looks. Most muggles intuitively sensed something odd in her, though they couldn't pinpoint what, and kept their distance or pushed her away.
She'd spent eleven years in dark, unable to figure out which part of her was broken or how to fix it until a barn owl swooped into her living room and dropped a letter on her lap. She was a witch – a muggleborn – and she was invited to attend a prestigious school that would teach her magic. Bernadette spent that evening staring at the ceiling of her room with her parents' screaming match as a lovely backdrop.
"… your fault!"
"… not my child… devilry!"
She carefully unfolded the parchment and held it up to her eyes with a featherlight touch, afraid it might burn her or, maybe, burn away into nothing. She read it until her eyes itched and the words blurred on the page. The next morning, neither one of her parents spoke or touched her, they averted their gaze as if what she had – what she was, were contagious.
By the time September 1st arrived, they had steeled their nerves and slipped into cool detachment. Mother shoved the trolley into her hands, father nodded a tense goodbye, and they both left her in a sea of distracted bumbling bodies. It was a miracle that eleven-year-old Bernadette wasn't stomped to death by the distracted passerby, let alone found the secret platform and made it aboard the train.
She'd cried the whole first ride to school. And then, she'd promised she would never cry because of them again, and kept that oath religiously.
As long as she didn't make herself look at the disgust in their eyes whenever she was forced to go home, Bernadette could pretend she was unbothered by the situation.
"Watch where you're going, kid!"
She huffed and made a sharp left turn, throwing a protective arm over Kiwi's rattling cage. The owl screeched like she meant to bite her fingers off the next time she needed to send a letter, unhappy with all the jostling.
"Sorry, pal, I'm doing my best here," she murmured.
She paused her mad run and got up on the tip of her toes and see over the crowd, when her eyes finally latched onto magical barrier that muggles passed by unaware, a smile ghosted across her lips.
Yes, learning she was a witch had brought severe changes to her life. But every time she crossed over to the wizarding world, every minute she spent at Hogwarts, practicing magic, felt like a rollercoaster drop – infused with adrenaline and marvelously liberating.
Bernadette screwed her eyes shut and pushed through the magical barrier, she emerged on a chaotic platform 9 and ¾ where parents and grandparents loitered to say farewell and magical trunks and pets were zoomed haphazardly over her head. She tried to weave through the crowd without upsetting her bird any further, which was challenging while searching for a familiar head of red hair.
However, if with the general noise and disorder it was hard to hear her own thoughts, then finding Rose was near impossible. Bernadette checked her watch and confirmed what she already knew – she'd just made it before missing the Hogwarts Express. Perhaps it would be less of a hassle to simply look for her friend on the train.
Sighing, Bernadette lowered Kiwi's cage to the floor and wrestled her trunk off the trolley. She scratched the back of her neck, gaze flitting from the heavy carry-on, the frazzled pet, and the steaming train. Should she leave the luggage and load Kiwi first or first the luggage and leave her pet on the station floor subject to possible trampling?
A warning screech told her not to push her luck with the owl's leniency. Rolling back her shoulders, Bernadette picked up the cage and turned around for her trunk only to find it off the ground and with masculine hands gripping the strap. Caught off guard, she hopped back rather suddenly, to Kiwi's dismay, as her eyes traveled up, past standard black robes and a Gryffindor tie, to land on-
"Your poor owl," chuckled the black-haired boy, "has bloody murder written in its eyes."
"Albus." She cleared her throat, refusing to acknowledge the burning of her cheeks.
"Birdie," he quipped back, a cocky grin plastered on his face.
She rolled her eyes. "Don't call me that."
"Rose does."
"You're not Rose." She turned and boarded the train, knowing she was being rude but that he would take her trunk with him anyway. That was Albus Potter for you, reckless, annoying, stubborn and tirelessly chivalrous – a poster boy of house Gryffindor.
"That hurts," he teased, "I like to think I inherited just as much of the Weasley charm and good looks as she did."
Bernadette turned in time to see his winning grin and wink before he took the lead, carrying her trunk with one hand, and she had to hurry her step to keep up.
How is he lifting that like it's filled with feathers and not books?
Her gaze wandered up his figure while her cheeks silently betrayed the sneaky act. Albus had gained at least 5 centimeters on her since the last term. He had the build of a seeker, like his father, lean and tall. He was fairly strong but primarily graceful and fluid in his movements. There was no way he could have carried her massive trunk without straining a muscle.
Bernadette cocked her head to the side and squinted at him. He must have enchanted it lighter since he, unlike her, had his wand with him at all times. Her parents would snap hers if they found it in the house. (And then they might be inclined to snap her, too.)
"Running late, huh, Birdie." He pulled her from her thoughts and their eyes met, his over his shoulders and hers wide and slightly startled. "Your five alarms didn't go off?"
Her fist clenched tighter on Kiwi's cage.
The teasing was familiar. Ever since their first year, they riled each other up with petty arguments and pointless debates. Nothing serious or akin to a rivalry. They were both stubborn idiots, in the words of Rose herself, and just managed to bring out the stupid in each other. They'd gotten better at dealing with it over the years.
However, today she had woken up late. Her mother took down her clock and posters while she was away, and the girl forgot to charge her cell phone since she couldn't bring it to school so that alarm hadn't gone off either. Her morning started in nerve-wracking rushing, wrestling her trunk and, not so gently, getting her bird in its cage.
Out of all their classmates, she was praised by the teachers constantly for punctuality and diligence. She was also made fun of, by said classmates, for her obsession with being on time.
This was not a reminder she needed at the moment from Albus.
"Not all of us have fancy Ministry issued escorts, Potter."
Low blow. His family's 'celebrity' status was not game in their fights, just as her dysfunctional home life was out of bounds.
Bernadette saw his posture tense up immediately. He turned, and she expected a working jaw and glinting eyes – the beginning of a fight. Instead, she was greeted by inquisitive brows and an open emerald gaze.
His eyes were by far his best features, though she would never admit it aloud. They were sharp and intelligent, quick to notice any changes be that an evasive snitch or a souring mood. It usually bothered her, seeing as he had no problem antagonizing her despite his smart perception of when things were going south. But not today.
He read her like a book and his features softened.
"I'm sorry," he said. There was a pause, a blink of a hummingbird, in which they stood frozen in place before he continued making way through the train.
His reaction was unlike anything she could have predicted. And it sounded… genuine.
Creasing her brow, Bernadette followed him.
The final whistle, signifying departure, sounded while they were crossing wagons and they had to stop while the train pushed off to avoid toppling over. The platform and its waving occupants formed a passing portrait on the clear windows and the muffled sound of the steam engine soothed the anxious patter of her heart. She had made it aboard. She was going back to Hogwarts.
A smile overtook her lips.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Albus watching her, his hands fiddling with the trunks' handle. Bernadette tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear, her eyes roaming the floor with exaggerated interest.
The boy chuckled silently and started down the corridor again. Scolding herself for acting like bumbling third-year, she picked up Kiwi and entered the compartment after him with her attention still elsewhere. Big mistake.
A red tornado tackled her and, if not for Hugo's fast reflexes, the birdcage would have clattered to the floor. As it was, Hugo caught the cage, banging his forehead on its bars in the process. Bernadette and her fiery tornado, however, were not as lucky. They tumbled down in a confusion of limbs and bouncy red curls, half out of the compartment.
Bernadette huffed, trying to breathe with the heavy weight on her chest without swallowing a stray curl. Her butt promised to be sore for days.
"Birdie," the girl cried, uselessly pushing back her hair with one hand while balancing upright with the other.
Laughter echoed out of the compartment. Bernadette glimpsed Albus and his cousin Hugo, who now sported a red bump on his head, shaking their heads and gasping for air. She let her head drop back to the ground.
"Why did you tackle me, you maniac?"
Her best friend smiled wide, eyes crinkling. "I know you missed me, Birdie. Don't try to deny it."
Bernadette moved out from under her and into a sitting position, gingerly patting her head. "Of course," she replied, "but I know how to express the sentiment without giving you a concussion."
"Don't be dramatic," the redhead said, rolling her eyes dramatically, "it's your fault anyway. I went mad, I thought you weren't coming!"
She could read the implied meaning in her friend's face.
I thought your parents had kept you locked in or something worse.
Bernadette placed a gentle hand on Rose's shoulder.
"It's true," Albus quipped, placing her trunk in the overhead compartment. "Poor Hugo was nearly throttled to death in her moment of lunacy."
The boy absently confirmed this with a nod while smoothing her owl's ruffled feathers. Kiwi pressed closer to the bars to help him.
Shaking her head, Bernadette stood and pulled up her friend with one hand and dusted off her worn jeans and jumper with the other. "You need yoga, Rose. Lots and lots of yoga."
The redhead shrugged and sat on one of the cushioned seats, patting for her to do the same. She obliged, though her sore butt complained.
"Thankfully, I was here to save the day," Albus continued. He took Kiwi from Hugo's hands and placed the cage in its designated hanger. "Neither this owl nor this boy would have survived at the hands of you two."
Rose playfully kicked Hugo's shin at the small giggle that escaped his lips. "Shut up."
"Thank you," the words left Bernadette before she could second-guess herself. The relief of sitting beside her friend again, shooting towards her favorite place in the world, smothered the part of her that liked to antagonize him. His apology in the corridor still played in her mind. "Thank you for finding me. The platform was crazy crowded, and I was completely lost."
"No problem, Birdie," he smiled. "It wasn't hard to find you at all."
She ignored the teasing nickname and waggling eyebrows. "You're good at finding people," there was a hint of curiosity in her tone.
During her years at Hogwarts, Bernadette had come to appreciate and dislike his uncanny ability to find whoever they needed. It was good when they were in a rush or avoiding detention, but annoying when she wanted to hide from someone, usually Rose after they had a fight, and he led them straight to her.
"Ha," he said, "I have my methods."
He and Rose exchanged a peculiar look that made her feel left out of something important. It was to be expected, they were family. They had their own secrets and inside jokes, she was no part of.
"Okay," she smiled tightly, turning her gaze to the fields fleeting by in the window.
"I'll tell you this," he said, prompting her to face him without even thinking about it, "I rarely need them to find you."
She shouldn't have said anything, he wore a face glinting with daring, mischief and something else, just like he did before their fights. But that look made her heart race and pushed out a meek "why" lodged in her throat.
"With you it's easy, I just look for the prettiest face in the crowd."
He then exited their compartment promising to bring back candy from the witch's trolley.
Bernadette wished he'd punched her, insulted her or thrown a bucket of dragon spit over her head instead. Rose's frown deepened, and she squirmed beside her muggleborn friend, nose twitching like a dog that had caught the scent of a juicy sausage. Bernadette evaded her eyes, wetting her lips and silently cursing her inability to keep from blushing at the stupidest things.
A few minutes of silence passed between them. Hugo cracked open a novel to escape the tension buzzing in the compartment, but Rose wasn't going to be dissuaded so easily.
She composed her features and tried for a nonchalant tone. "That was new, huh."
"What," Bernadette offered, blinking in her best attempt to seem stupid which wasn't difficult, "what are we talking about?"
Rose laughed softly, shaking her head, "Merlin's beard, you two are quite something."
The brunette couldn't argue with that.
The train was half-way to its destination when Bernadette detangled herself from her best friend to go change into her school robes.
Rose, prepared as always, had already boarded in her Ravenclaw garb and decided to stay in the compartment to ensure they didn't miss the trolley witch. She didn't plan on reaching the castle famished.
Bernadette left only after she made her friend promise to buy candy-apples, her favorite sweet.
"Apples aren't sweets. They are fruit, Birdie."
"Fruits are sweet." The other girl hopped precariously onto the cushions to reach her trunk and unpack her uniform. "And candy-apples are covered in sugar, so they're extra sweet."
"You take the fun out of everything."
"And still, you love me."
Rose poked her in the stomach as she left with a bundle in her arms, and she stuck out her tongue playfully.
Bernadette slipped into the cramped bathroom and assessed her reflection. Tired eyes, wavy hair that stuck up at odd angles and, would you look at that, her jumper had mustard stains on its collar. All by-products of fleeing the house in under five minutes.
Albus' words rang in the back of her mind, he'd called her pretty. She frowned at her reflection.
Nope, not thinking about that. Moving on.
She removed her jumper and jeans, splashed warm water on her face and put on her uniform. He hadn't called her pretty before. But maybe pretty meant cute, like a puppy or a little sister. She shuddered. They were the same age, there was no way he could think of her as a little sister.
She shook her head vigorously.
Stop. Stop thinking about it.
She knotted the blue and silver tie tighter than was probably healthy, staring disapprovingly into the mirror.
Focus Bern, it's Albus we're talking about. You hate him.
I don't hate him.
Okay, fine. He's like a brother to you then, how's that? I think that's great actually. Yes. Like a brother. I decided he's like a brother and not the-
Three sharp knocks startled her out of her imaginary discussion. Bernadette banged her hip on the sink and bit down a cry and a string of profanities.
"Do you plan on hogging the bathroom the entire trip?"
The voice was male and clearly dissatisfied. She threw her reflection one last warning glare, picked up her folded clothes and opened the door.
The male in question was a boy, and the boy in question was taller than she'd anticipated. Her gaze flitted up to stormy eyes and a smirk. The boy pushed off the other side of the corridor where he had been leaning.
"Miss Crane." He didn't sound surprised.
"Mr. Malfoy," she nodded.
They stopped in front of one another for a moment, then Scorpius' face broke into a reluctant smile which she found herself returning.
"I didn't think I would miss you much."
"Jerk," she rolled her eyes.
He laughed, short but sweet, and slipped an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, we have catching up to do."
It was her turn to laugh, "I know exactly what you mean by catching up, Malfoy. So, I'm gonna have to pass, for now. I'm currently preoccupied."
He feigned hurt by throwing a hand casually over his heart. "You judge me, miss."
Bernadette patted his shoulder, "I promise we'll find time at school, in between classes, maybe. I have a plan this time, rock-solid."
"I do find your plans adorable."
"Don't mock my plans," she pushed his arm lightly. "They're the only thing you've got."
"And I'm thankful for them," he assured with his hands in praying position.
"Good," Bernadette looked down the aisle toward the compartment where her friends awaited her. "I better get going."
At that moment, Albus popped out through the compartment doors, an assortment of sweets in his arms. His expression was relaxed until it focused on her and Scorpius.
Bernadette's stomach clenched. She turned to the blond boy, "Bye, Scor."
He nodded, still smiling, and left in the other direction.
She pressed her clothes to her chest and walked back to her compartment, but Albus was gone.
"What took you so long?" Rose asked, shoving a candy-apple in her hand.
"I got- I was just changing."
"Duh," her friend replied.
Bernadette set down her clothes and pressed her nose to the compartment door, eyes searching. "Thanks for the apple," she said absently.
"Don't thank me."
The brunette faced her friends, brows raised.
Hugo caught her expression and stopped munching his chocolate frog long enough to say, "Albus."
Bernadette nodded longer than necessary, aware that Rose was watching her, and sat down. She twirled the stick, stomach too agitated for food.
Night had fallen outside their window, and the castle lights were faintly visible. The train made a turn and gave them a premium view of the grounds, the Great Lake and the Forbidden Forest, before descending to the station at Hogsmeade.
"Put away the book, Hugo," his sister announced. "We're here."
10