Gloria readjusts her backpack as she stands next to her father, who is talking excitedly to a fellow named Amos Diggory. The other man seems just as joyous, laughing loudly as his hand rests firmly on his son, Cedric's, shoulder. Amos is jabbering on about Cedric's talent on a broom, and Gloria is falling asleep on her feet. That is, until Amos lets out a chortle and a cry of, "Arthur Weasley! Long walk?"
A balding ginger man (who Gloria assumes is Arthur) approaches, followed by a sluggish group of six generally teen aged kids.
"Not too bad," Arthur smiles tiredly as Amos chuckles, mentioning how he and Cedric had to be up at two in order to get here on time. "And, uh, who's this?" he asks, and Gloria finally looks up, seeing as though he was obviously referring to herself and her dad.
Gloria takes a breath, ready to speak, but Amos takes care of introductions. "This is my American colleague, Randall Evans, and his lovely daughter, Gloria. She's actually transferring into Hogwarts this year. Exciting, isn't it?" There's a murmur of greeting from each of the children, and her father receives a handshake from Mr. Weasley.
"So, then, Miss Evans, what house are you hopin' to get into?" Amos asked, apparently prepared for idle chat time. Now that Gloria thinks about it, they probably do have quite a few minutes before the Portkey was activated.
A shrug from Gloria is all the answer he got. That is, until her dad elbows her in the shoulder. She sighs, as if making small talk was going to kill her. "I don't exactly know, sir. I didn't get much time before we moved to, y'know, research that kinda stuff. But from what I read, I'd like to be in Gryffindor," Her smile is awkward and forced, but no one seems to notice.
Arthur nods, then puts a hand on her shoulder, "Well, should you be in Gryffindor, you've already got a start on friendships! All my kids are in that very house, and in addition Harry and Hermione here as well."
"Oh- Harry? As in Harry Potter?!" The grin that sparks onto Amos' face is broad, "A pleasure to meet you!" He goes for a handshake, and Gloria's father nods at the boy.
Gloria notices how awkward Harry looks, so she speaks up in a way-too-peppy-for-this-early voice, "So, uh, what time are we meant to hop on that ol' Portkey?" Amos was distracted immediately, and Harry sighs in relief.
"Right-o! Actually, right about now. Here it is, as well. Moldy ol' boot- perfect disguise. No Muggle would touch this!" He laughs good-naturedly and ushers the group towards it, "Right, so, it's gonna be a tight fit, so no one be surprised if you knock into someone or end up tangled in their limbs when we land. Oh, yes, alright, everyone grab on tightly now. Come on, come on."
Everyone moves to grab a bit of the boot, and Gloria chooses a lace, though the twin boys seem to have the same idea. So the three of them hold onto a bit of the bootlace. On one side she has a ginger twin, and on the other the younger Weasley girl.
"Right then," Mr. Weasley clears his throat, "3… 2… 1!" and they were off, spinning dangerously fast into the weird magic portal. Gloria wants to scream but she can't, the air being sucked from her lungs. Her shoulders knock together with each Weasley, and everything becomes a blur. That is until she catches a glimpse of the ground approaching and suddenly she's hitting a lot of cold, hard dirt. Her knees give out and she ends up sprawled across one of the twin's chest, groaning. Her legs are covered by the Weasley girl's body, and she hears shuffling as everyone moves apart.
Gloria pushes herself up, back arching but unable to move until seconds later when the younger girl rolls off of her. She looks up at the poor boy she'd just accidentally pinned to the ground. "Heh, sorry," she says, watching him stand up. She notes that he's very handsome, tucking away that bit of information for another time.
"No problem, not like you had much say in it," He offers her his hand, "I'm Fred, by the way. This is my brother George. I don't expect you to be able to tell us apart, of course, but... " Gloria takes his hand and pulls herself up, dusting off her pants as George waves to her. She smiles at him.
"Lovely to meet you. You already know who I am, and- oh, we're going. Well, I'll see you around, hopefully!" Gloria says, her smile not dimming (especially not when Fred and George smile back at her).
"Yeah, see you soon!" George waves again, though this time it's shorter and mostly just him raising his hand up in parting.
"Can't wait," Fred grins, and Gloria notices that his smile is a bit mischievous all the time. She chuckles and turns, jogging off after her dad, who had already paid to get in and gotten his map. Now he was heading into the campsite. Once she catches up, Randall puts his arm around her shoulders.
"So, what d'you think of them? I, for one, find Mr. Weasley's interest in all things Muggle absolutely heartwarming. It's good to know there are wizards out there like him." Randall said, "How d'you feel about the kids, though?"
"I like them. Especially Fred and George, though that might be because they're the only two who actually talked to me. I'm sure I'll like the rest, though. Hopefully we get to talk with them more." Gloria's eyes follow her dad as he begins setting up the tent, waving off her movement to help him.
"Arthur invited us both to lunch with them, actually, so you can look forward to that in a few hours. But for now," Randall takes a break in speaking in order to finish the tent, "why don't you go take a nap? You might be in a better mood afterwards, missy!" Gloria scoffs, but she's still grinning, "If you don't want to, you could always go find the Weasleys. They're around here somewheres."
Gloria yawned, "Nap first, find them later," she decides, climbing into the tent, unsurprised when it's about the size of an American apartment.
She drops her backpack and heads into the bathroom to wash her face before sleeping for a bit. Staring at herself in the mirror, she chews her bottom lip. Gloria is short. Only 5'0", and she doubts she'll grow much more than that. She has rather tame, curly, blonde hair. The ringlets are relatively calm, but in the heat they poof up unless she magicks them under control. Her eyes are just a dull blue, in her opinion. Her dad always says they're sapphire, because it's a pretty word. She also thinks her eyes are too big for her face, but her dad says they're very pretty. Her nose is little and her dad always says it's a "button nose". She does like her lips, though, which always look like they have pink lipstick on them, though she's never used lipstick before. Well, save for the time so used her mom's lipstick to write on the walls.
Sometimes she thinks that incident was the beginning of the end of her parents' marriage. But then she remembers, no, it was probably when her mom cheated on her dad with their next door neighbor, Mr. Reynolds. Stupid Mr. Reynolds. Stupid mom.
She ties her hair back in a ponytail and wanders to her sleeping area, a small yet comfortable looking cot. She lies down in it and sighs, kicking off her shoes and turning over onto her side, easily drifting into a dreamless sleep.