Hi everyone, first off I'd just like to say I know not all OC stories are enjoyable, especially MarySue's - and whether my character is a MarySue or not is up to you. But if you have a feeling you won't like it, use your judgment - I'm just trying to give you fair warning.

That said, I'm trying to put some heart into it, and I hope it's enjoyable. Please R&R!

1. Fred

She was beautiful, even though she was just a kid. She was too skinny, though, and too young—too young for me to be thinking she was beautiful. She was too much of an obvious Muggle, too, and—most of all—too completely lost.

I was roaming Diagon Alley with George, not really putting much effort into shopping because we were only exploring; we were meeting up with Mum, Dad, and the others in a bit to head over to Gringotts. Not that going to the bank meant we could shop. We probably still wouldn't have enough for our books, let alone anything fun. But it didn't matter to me as much as it did for Ron and George. I didn't really mind being a bit poor. Anyway, that was when I saw her, a tornado of thin, dark, messy hair, shockingly bright eyes, and an unreadable expression.

"George, Ron," I said, nudging my twin and little brother. "Look."

They both looked over at her, and I scanned their expressions carefully. As I had expected, George had a reaction closer to mine, while Ron looked pretty uninterested. Even George, though, didn't seem nearly as transfixed as I was.

"Do you see it?" I asked.

Both of them looked at me like I was crazy. "See what, exactly?" asked George.

I shrugged. I didn't know how to put it into words. "Her."

"Yes, Fred," Ron said, rolling his eyes, "we see her, we're not blind. C'mon, I want to grab some lollies before Mum takes away the Knuts she gave me."

"She looks like she's lost," I said. "We should go talk to her."

"Really?" George asked, shaking his head at me. "She's cute, Fred, but she's young—and anyway, she's probably got a boyfriend."

I snorted. "She's, like, ten! Besides, that's not even what it's about. I just want to help her."

George gave me a rather condescending look, then shrugged. "Whatever you want to do," he said. "I'm going on the lolly run with Ron—meet you there."

It was odd—like something I'd never experienced before, somehow, George abandoning me. I know that's ridiculously over-exaggerating, but honestly, we had the same taste in everything and did everything together. That girl was the first thing we had ever disagreed on, and it began then.

I was unusually shy and out of place walking up to her. It wasn't me, and in a way it freaked me out, but I wasn't about to turn back, so I kept walking. She was standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron with her arms crossed, looking down at her fingernails. On anyone else it would have looked insecure, but she just looked, as I said, lost.

"Oi," I greeted her. Luckily I wasn't getting too completely wound up. "Is it just me, or are you completely lost?"

She looked up at me and hit me with those eyes again. They were gorgeous. At first glance they looked like they were blue, but I saw now that they were more of a light, sharp gray that was almost silver. "I'm standing still," she reminded me, "and not looking at a map. Why would you think I'm lost?"

Maybe that was why George and Ron had thought I was weird. Because she didn't look lost—not in the way they were thinking, anyway. "I didn't mean that kind of lost."

She gave me a look. "So what, you think I'm spiritually, helplessly, emotionally lost?"

I grinned. "That's more like it."

She kept the hard expression for a second, which I had to give her props for, but as expected, she gave it up in favor of a cute little laugh. "Sure," she said, "I guess I'm sort of helplessly, emotionally lost. What's it to you?"

"Sad," I replied. "It's sad, that's all."

Her former expression returned, and even though it was disappointing, I wasn't surprised. "I'm not looking for your pity," she said rather coldly for a kid.

I smiled. "Good. I'm not looking to give any."

She stared at me for a second. I don't know what she was doing, but I have a feeling she was trying to decide what to make of me. I know now that she's not judgmental, exactly, but she does have pretty accurate first impressions of people.

"Don't you have a family to get back to?" she asked after a second.

I smiled. "They're off fetching lollies and arguing about money," I replied easily. "What about you?"

She shook her head. "No." She didn't elaborate, and I didn't ask her to.

"Are you going to Hogwarts, then?" I continued, not nearly close to giving up.

She nodded. "Yeah, I am. I'll be a first year."

"I'll be a third," I said, clearly boasting, "but I'll be seen talking with you, if you like. And my little brother's a first year, so watch out for Ron and tell me how he's doing."

She gave me the tiniest of smiles. "He a redhead, too?"

"All of us," I replied. "Have you done any of your shopping yet?"

"No, I'm waiting for Tom to get back, he said he was fetching me a list."

I raised my eyebrows. "You don't have a list? Didn't you get it in your letter?"

"My mum kind of… burned it," she explained, and added a bit of a giggle. "Nice story, isn't it?"

I laughed. "Either tragic or funny, yeah. Well, I know what you need, and Ron has a list. Do you have an account at Gringotts?"

"Yeah, my dad does, I'll just use his."

I nodded. "Cool. Come with me, then. You can do all your shopping with us."

I hadn't softened her up much yet; she still pretty obviously didn't want to talk to me, let alone spend the day with me. "I should wait for Tom," she said a little reluctantly.

I grinned. "He won't mind. Kids around here play tricks on him all the time."

She frowned, thinking it over, then sighed and nodded. "Okay. All right."

I smiled, and if she wasn't standing right there, I probably would have done a victory dance. "Cool. I'm Fred Weasley, by the way."

"Payton Black," she replied, and so it began.

When we met up in the candy shop, Ron and George looked pretty impressed. They obviously hadn't expected me to be able to woo her. Not that I had wooed her; judging from her bored, tired expression, I had done anything but. Still, it was something.

"Hey, bros," I greeted them as we approached. "This is Payton Black. Payton, this is my twin, George, and my little brother, Ron."

Payton nodded in greeting at both of them. "Pleasure," she said easily.

"Mum, Dad, and Perce will be here in a minute or two," George told me. "She coming with us to Gringotts?"

"Yeah," Payton said, obviously not being referred to as 'she,' "I am, if that's alright with you."

He nodded. "Of course it is. Just curious. Mum and Dad will probably go all parent-y on you, though."

She stiffened.

"Don't worry about it," I told her, not wanting to lose her now. "They'll probably ask you where your parents are, but they're cool, they don't bite or anything."

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe I should just—"

"—go get your list from Tom?" I finished for her. "Really? You'd be passing up a pretty interesting day with the Weasleys."

George grinned. "Can't disagree with you there, twin."

"Okay," she said, but looked nervous as the other three Weasleys approached.

"All set for Gringotts?" Mum asked, and stopped short when she saw Payton. "Oh, hello, dear," she said curiously. "Are you friends with the boys?"

"Very recent friends," Payton replied, and stuck out a hand. She was clearly nicer to my parents than she was to me. "Hi, I'm Payton Black."

Mum froze in her tracks, her expression completely changing into a shocked, almost scared face. "P—Payton Black?"

Payton's eyebrows narrowed with worry. "Wh…" She didn't seem to know what to say. "Do you know…?"

"Your father," Mum said in a sort of lost voice. "I knew your father."

Payton bit her lip and turned to look at me, as if asking whether I knew. I shrugged and shook my head, and she seemed relieved.

"But we were sure we wouldn't be seeing you at Hogwarts," Mum continued. "Your mother—"

"Please," Payton interrupted. "Don't call her."

Mum looked from me to her and back, then sighed. "Do you really think she won't realize you're gone? And won't the first place she'll look be here?"

"No, she won't set foot on magic land again," Payton said, "so now that I'm here, I'm free."

"And you don't want me to send you back."

Payton shook her head. "Please."

"You know you need parental consent," Mum said. "To go to Hogwarts."

Payton nodded. "I know. I have his."

I had no idea what was going on. What did Mum know about this girl that we didn't? She knew her father, but not her mother, who Payton was running from? Where was her father, then? All I knew was that Mum looked like she wanted to take Payton in her arms and never let go. Sort of how I felt.

"Well, where are you staying?" Mum asked her.

"At the Leaky Cauldron," Payton replied. "Until the Hogwarts Express arrives."

"Nonsense," Mum said, shaking her head. "That's no place for a ten-year-old girl to be living. It's not safe."

"I'm eleven, ma'am," Payton said quietly.

"You'll stay with us," Mum said, and I think I could have kissed her right there, in front of everyone, I was so happy. "No, no, don't object—I'll have to insist."

"Please," Payton said, "I don't need the special attention—I just want to—"

"Your father," Mum said, "would insist, too."

Payton didn't need any more reassurance than that.

I spent the rest of the day with her, and I learned nothing more than what I had already known: that I had never been so intrigued by someone in my life. I couldn't take my eyes off her, couldn't stop talking to her—but only because I wanted her to talk back, to hear her voice. She didn't know magic, and yet she had me under her spell. And yet she was such a child. She didn't act it, sound it, or look it, and yet it was still there, still obvious.

I tried to ask her about her parents, and how our mother knew so much about her, but she didn't even change the subject; she just went silent until I did. So I avoided that. Instead, I enjoyed my time with her. We went to Ollivander's with Ron and George—Ron got himself a rather ugly, short brown wand, and she got herself a long, slender black unicorn hair one—but they left to buy robes soon after, so it was just the two of us. It wasn't awkward, luckily, but we didn't keep conversation the whole time, either. We were comfortable with each other, though; that was the important part.

She tried to mask her excitement, but she didn't do a good job of it. Her father's vault at Gringotts, we had all noticed, was huge. It was filled with gold and jewels, and while she didn't splurge, she took quite a decent amount of it for shopping. Her eyes had sparkled when she got her wand, and now here we were in the Owl Emporium and she looked just as excited.

"Do you have one?" she asked me.

I laughed. "No. We don't have owls in our family—all we have is Scabbers the rat. He's Ron's now—George and I didn't want the ruddy thing."

She grinned. "Can't really blame you. So do you know any good breeds, or anything?"

I glanced around. I didn't, really, but I still had an obsession with helping her, so I pulled over one of the attendants. "Who do you recommend?" I asked hopefully. The attendant was a pretty woman in her late twenties or early thirties, so I figured she'd have decent taste.

"My favorite's only just arrived," she said, "but he's absolutely gorgeous—he'll probably sell fast. Follow me—he's name's Tucker."

I glanced at Payton, and she nodded eagerly, so we followed the woman to a row of cages in the back. The woman stood on her tiptoes to reach one of the larger cages, then carefully set it down on a table nearby. She opened the door and extended an arm. After a second of hesitation, a long, brown claw emerged from the cage. So did the next, and the tentative creature was finally out.

If she wasn't trying so hard to keep her cool, I know Payton would have gasped with amazement. She was a Muggle, or at least had lived as one; seeing owls every day wasn't normal for her, especially not one as beautiful as this.

"He's a Ural Owl, brought in from France," the woman told us. "He's not albino—that just happens sometimes to Urals."

She was talking about the mostly white feathers amidst several brown ones that brought together a very pretty pattern. His face was almost all white, with huge and—I must admit—cute eyes. His big feathers were plump and soft.

"Can I hold him?" Payton asked softly. The woman smiled and offered him to her. I expected her to wince when his claws settled around her wrist, but she didn't; she only smiled.

"I'll take him," she said.

"Can't blame you," the woman said with a smile, and led her to the front.

Payton and Tucker bonded instantly. Payton refused to put him back in his cage. When I asked why she wasn't worried about him flying away, she said, "If he flew away, he wouldn't be my bird." I thought it was a little odd, but sure enough, the bird stayed happily perched on her shoulder as we walked. We picked up all her books, stopped into buy some cloaks, and had time to grab some ice cream from Florean's before we met up with the others.

"Fred," Mum greeted. "Payton. How was your shopping?"

"It was great," I replied, and turned to Payton, expecting her to say a quiet 'fine.'

"Yeah," she said instead, bright smile on her face, "it was great."

FIN.

The next chapter will be the rest of the summer at the Burrow, from Ginny's point of view. Reviews would encourage me to update sooner!

Thanks everyone!