For the first time in my life, I, Rose Weasley, am scared.
As a child, I was always fearless. I would chase gnomes in our back garden, steal my mom's wand to practise spells (I swear, I wasn't aiming for the cat!), and even play Quidditch with my older cousins—that last one in particular really should have been a death wish. Of course, those were the kiddy things I did when I was little; I'm eleven now, old enough for Hogwarts. Hardly a kid anymore, yeah?
Anyways, no matter what the situation was, I've never been nervous or anxious or frightened, up until now, this very moment.
Even this morning, I'd been fine. My bags were all packed weeks ago; my mum insisted that prices were lower before the back-to-school season started, so we'd gone months earlier than the rest of the world. Dad said it was stupid, but she never really listens to him anyways. I had my wand all sorted; thirteen and a half inches, yew, unicorn hair core—same core as my dad. I had my robes, and I thought they were a little too long, but mom said I was probably going to grow. She knows everything, so I figured I might as well just deal with tripping over my robes for now. So I'd had my bags all sorted, ate a good breakfast—I had to give Hugo the prize in the cereal—and all there was left to do was meet up with the rest of the family at King's Cross and go to Hogwarts.
My first year. Not scary, not in the slightest, not at all. The second we'd crossed over to the platform, and I could already hear, see, and in James's case, smell our family. The Weasley-Potter clan is so large, the Hogwarts send offs have come to be something of an event. The only two of us starting school this year, though, are my cousin Albus and me.
Mum and Dad were more nervous than I was—not to say that I was nervous, of course. It was just that I felt a bit smothered, what with them hugging me and kissing me and telling me to beat some spider boy at all the tests before rushing onto the train with Albus.
So now I'm sitting here, across from my cousin in an otherwise empty compartment, and I'm scared. If it were James or Fred or anybody else, really, I would have kept my big mouth shut, but I'd always been decently close with Albus. I'd talk him into gnome-chasing with me, he would help me come up with plans to snatch Mum's wand, and I would try not to laugh too hard when he fell off his broom. After spending all that time with somebody, it gets a bit easier to make confessions.
"So…are you nervous?" I ask, pulling on one of my curls and biting my lip. After all, I only said a bit easier—not easy enough to just outright tell him I'm nervous. How lame would that be?
"Kind of," Albus answers, and I notice that his knee is bouncing up and down like crazy. "You?"
"Not really." Maybe it's a little bit of a lie, but who cares? I wasn't even really all that nervous.
"Oh." My cousin looks down, and his hair falls over his face as it always does. Dad says that Aunty Ginny lets him keep it too long, and though my mum's too polite to say it, she thinks the same thing. I knew, though, that she kept it that long on purpose—one night she'd jokingly confessed to me that he reminded her of Uncle Harry that way. That didn't make much sense to me; Uncle Harry has to keep his hair short as an Auror. Maybe it's because with his forehead all covered, you can't see that Albus didn't have the funny lightning bolt scar.
The only scar that Albus had is one straight across his nose, from the time James smashed his face with a toy broomstick.
"I mean, I'm a teensy bit worried, I guess, but that's to be expected, yeah? There's all this worry about what houses we're gonna get and what the other kids in our year'll be like and all this pressure from our mum being so bloody brilliant in school and everybody expecting us to be just as bright-"
"No offense, Rosie, but your mum isn't mine." Albus smiles, and I have the sudden urge to punch him. I send a solid glare his way instead. "Hey, that doesn't mean I have it easy! Mine used to play for the Holyhead Harpies, and I'm rubbish at Quidditch."
"Whatever," I say, rolling my eyes. "What house d'you think you'll get?"
"Probably Gryffindor," Albus looks out of the window. The Hogwarts Express is just starting, and we can see the scenery move past at snail's pace. "Both my parents were, and James is, too."
"Just because loads of your family's in one house doesn't always mean you'll end up there." I argue. Albus has been nervous about what house he'd be in for as long as I could remember.
"Like you can talk," He shoots back quickly. "When's the last time there was a non-Gryffindor Weasley?"
I have to think for a moment—not because there aren't any. It was simply that there were so many Weasleys that it was difficult to keep track of who was who. "Molly's a Ravenclaw, and Dominique's in Hufflepuff."
Albus is clearly frustrated that I've given a serious answer. "You remember what our parents said. The Sorting Hat knows if you're a Weasley. It put your dad and my mum there straight away, didn't even take the time to figure out-"
Whatever nervous rant Albus was working towards is interrupted by the compartment door opening. We both expected somebody to end up in our compartment—the express is supposedly full every year—but I still feel my heart give a little jump when people come in.
"Can we sit here?" A pretty girl with long brown hair asks. She looks like a teenager already. "We had a compartment, but some third years kicked us out."
"Go ahead," Albus says, scooting towards the window to make space. I thought that was unnecessary, but he's right. The girl isn't just with one or two other kids; soon, the compartment is packed to bursting.
"Are you two first years?" The same girl asks. Everybody other than her is clearly uncomfortable, including me, but she doesn't seem to notice or care in the slightest. I immediately like her.
"Yeah, we are." I answer, seeing as Albus looks a bit tongue-tied. He always got a bit pink around girls, and in this case, I can't blame him—whatsherface is bloody gorgeous. "I'm Rose, and this is my Cousin Al."
Albus shoots me an odd look. Nobody in our family calls him Al; Uncle Harry named him after this old headmaster who was apparently a big deal to him and my parents, and always called him by his full name. I have no idea why I called him Al, so I just shrug. It's less dorky, anyways.
"Well, Rose, Al, I'm Lizzy. We're all first years, too. This is Scorpius, Amelia, Hanako, and Daniel."
Immediately, there are protests from the other kids, who had up until this point been entirely silent.
"Nobody calls me Hanako, it's just Hana-"
"I'm Amy, not Amelia,"
"Merlin, Lizzy, you know I go by Danny!"
The only one who's still silent is the Scorpius bloke. His face is pretty neutral, but he's smiling now—that's a bit of a relief. Something about him is just a little familiar, but I'm not sure why that is. And I don't like that he isn't talking at all, like he's too good for the rest of the world.
"So that's what gets you all to talk," Lizzy smiles, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear. "Was wondering if it was going to be just me this whole ride."
"You didn't get me to talk," Scorpius finally says something, one eyebrow raised. I've never been able to do that. Whenever I try, James tells me I look like I'm completely insane.
"Well, you're the stick in the mud without a nickname, Scorp." She laughs, rolling her eyes.
"Don't call me Scorp," He huffs. "That just sounds stupid."
"Oh, yeah, because Scorpius is loads better." Lizzy shrugs. "By the way, I did get you to talk, technically."
This clearly takes a second to register with him. After a moment, Scorpius shrugs as well. "Got me there."
The five laugh, and I lock eyes with Albus. It's a bit awkward. Maybe they didn't mean to, but they've sort of locked us out of the conversation. We sit there like that for a while.
"We're being rude, guys," Amy says a while later, looking towards us, laughter from a moment's joke still on her face. "We barged into their compartment, and now we're ignoring them."
She's just as pretty as Lizzy. When I was little—around nine years old, which is loads younger than eleven, no matter what you think—I wanted hair just like hers, shoulder length blonde stuff that looks like gold. The one time I tried it short, it puffed up like an afro.
"Nah, we're fine," Albus says.
"Oh, no, don't be silly. Amy's right."
An uncomfortable silence falls over us straight away. I figured this would happen, which is why I didn't say anything about it—I'd much prefer they ignored us to spending the entire train ride in quiet. Danny, a bloke with dark skin, scratches his head.
"So, er…what house do you guys want?"
Albus and I just had this conversation, but I don't mind. It's a really common topic for first years to talk about; after all, your house is pretty much everything. Who you spend all of your time around, how much you can get away with, what everybody thinks of you. If my mum had been in Ravenclaw—which she said she almost was—she probably wouldn't have even met my dad, and then where would I be? Nowhere! I wouldn't even have been born!
But I didn't know what house I wanted, not really. If I ended up in Ravenclaw, everybody would expect me to be a genius, and I'm definitely not. In Gryffindor, everybody'll want me to go on adventures like my parents and their friends did. No offense to Dominique and Louis, but I'd be kind of embarrassed to be in Hufflepuff. And Slytherin…well, my dad doesn't speak too kindly of them. Thinks they're all evil and up to no good. Mum smacks him right up the head whenever he says that and starts rambling about how it isn't the house that makes the person, but for once, I'm not sure she's right. Either way, nobody in the Weasley-Potter clan has ever been a Slytherin, so I don't think I should really worry. I'm not much for cunning, anyways. Albus is more along those lines than me; I would drag him into everything when we were little, and he came up with the excuses to get us out.
Not that Albus is a Slytherin. Merlin knows, he's much too sweet and quiet for that.
"I don't really know what house I want," I admit. "Probably Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor."
"My whole family's been in Slytherin, so that's probably where I'll go," Lizzy nods, tucking that same strand behind her ear again. It's shorter than the rest of her hair, like she used to have bangs, but grew them out.
"Same with me," Scorpius leans back in his seat. He looks too calm about the whole thing, like it never even occurred to him that he should worry.
"Scorpius, all of our families are Slytherin. We're all going to end up there." Hana smirks. Albus looks at me wide eyed, and I stare back for a second. Of course we'd end up in a compartment full of sure-fire Slytherins on the first day-though I couldn't help but be jealous of how sure they were of their house.
"You'd probably be there either way," Danny adds. "You're ambitious as all get-out. Being a Malfoy is just bonus for you."
I bolt upright. Malfoy? "You're that spider bloke!"
"'Scuse me?" He asks, sitting right back up and raising his eyebrow again. If I had the slightest bit of common sense, I would've shut my mouth.
"Dad pointed you out on the platform and told me to beat you in every test!"
Apparently, I don't have any common sense. I don't even have the part of a persons' brain that tells you not to say obviously stupid stuff, or call the boy you've known for barely an hour 'that spider bloke' and that you've been told to beat him in every test. Immediately after I shut my mouth, I turn bright red; I can tell from how hot my face starts to feel. Everybody starts to laugh.
"That's bloody brilliant, Rose! Who's your dad, I want to shake that man's hand!" Danny manages through his laughter. I don't answer, and aside from his remaining wheezes, the cabin falls silent again.
"You two are Weasleys, aren't you?" Amy asks, pushing up her silver-wire glasses. She'd been rather quiet for most of the ride so far, but her tone wasn't hostile, just curious.
"I'm technically a Potter, but my mum's a Weasley, so I guess you could say that." Albus shrugs. He's acting pretty nonchalant about it, but I have a feeling that he doesn't love having to tell them so soon. Uncle Harry's kind of a big deal in the wizarding world—saved us from this Voldemort guy a couple decades ago—and apparently James has warned Albus that everybody throws a fit because they're Potters.
"He said the teachers grade us harder, and, and that we have to make a patronus on the first day of Defense Against the Dark Arts!" He'd confessed once. I didn't trust James for a second, but Albus was so nervous he'd clearly believe anything.
"Yeah, I'm a Weasley."
"Geez, so you've basically got your whole family here already, don't you?" Hana does a weird smile-grimace. "I'm not sure if that's a blessing or a curse."
"A curse, I'd say," I tuck a curl behind my ear—it springs right back into place, of course, and I try my best not to look annoyed.
"Our cousins are mental." Albus adds.
"You two seem alright, though." Scorpius says casually. "My dad always told me that the Potters and Weasleys are trouble."
"We aren't trouble!" I object. Albus gives me an amused look, and I scowl at him. "Well, maybe a little. But not as much as our parents were, promise."
The five of them trade a few looks, and though I feel a little resentment, it reminds me of the look Albus gave me a minute ago.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to find out." Lizzy says, very matter-of-fact. "You guys didn't freak out when you found out that we're all sure to be in Slytherin-which I've heard plenty that your family doesn't love-so I'm sure none of us think it's that big a deal."
She gives the other four an authoritative look, but none of them looked particularly malicious.
"I've got something to say to Rose," Scorpius says.
"Yeah?" I ask, biting my lip, ready to be insulted or hexed or something worse. He keeps a straight face, staring directly at me. I do my best to stare back; his eyes are really serious, and I can't tell if they're grey or blue.
"There's no way in Azkaban you're gonna beat me in every test."
On one hand, he's probably right. On the other hand, who does this guy think he is, saying that all outright like that? That's—that's beyond just confidence. That's just being an downright arsehole! I feel my face heating right back up, and I don't know if it's from anger or embarrassment, but I have half a mind to smack him, inter-house unity be damned. If everybody wasn't laughing, I might've. Instead, I join in until it dies down.
"Anyways, what subjects are you looking forward to?" Albus says casually once it dies down, scratching at his messy hair and smiling. "I think Potions is going to be pretty cool."
Things I don't have time for: this
Things I'm doing: this
I don't know, this probably won't get updated very frequently, if any of my other stories are indicators. A lot of times I run dry with this sort of stuff, but I figured why not? It's been fun to write so far. I've never dared to delve into the massive and, quite frankly, intimidating world of HP on my own-I've been perfectly content with just reading it up until now. Despite my fear and general laziness, though, I'm getting pretty sick of the houses following stereotypes, even in Next Generation works. As a proud Slytherin, I can say that it's boring. So a lot of this fic is going to involve house boundaries, but not in the usual way. I just hope it works out the way I've planned, and that you all like it. The next chapter's going to be up pretty soon, but I don't know after that. Hope you enjoyed!