"I really can't believe you're making me transfer!" Bethany MacCleod
huffed. "I mean, really, I'm in my fourth year. I have friends, I'm a
Chaser for LaFayette house, and next year I know I'll be captain of the
Quidditch team, the youngest captain in the history of Cowlings!" Bethany
had attended Cowlings School of Magic since she was eleven, three years
ago. Her father, whom she had lived with in the United States, had
recently passed away. Her mother had lived in England since the divorce
three years ago.
"Bethany, please. You have a choice. Continue on at Cowlings, or you can attend Hogwarts here in England. You know I loved Hogwarts when I was there. Your father did as well. But it is entirely up to you. If you want to stay in Louisiana, say the word. You can always come to Surrey on breaks," her mother, Maggie, said. "I know this is hard for you now. I just thought you'd like to be closer to family." Bethany shrugged.
"Do they have Quidditch there?"
"Of course they do, Bethany!" Maggie answered.
"I mean, do they have good teams? Worth playing on?" Bethany persisted. Maggie nodded. "Well…since it is the end of the summer, and I'd be starting back to school anyway…I think I'd like to try someplace new. Too many…memories here. Of Daddy teaching…" She trailed off. Maggie hugged her.
"So Hogwarts then?" her mom questioned. Bethany nodded.
"Yeah, Hogwarts it is."
* * * * * * * * * *
A week later, Maggie and Bethany were standing on Platform 9¾.
"Wow. This is…wow. Totally different from Cowlings!" Bethany exclaimed. "I love it! I can't wait to see what the school looks like. I mean, I've seen pictures, but that's nothing like seeing it for yourself and…whoa, there are some totally hot guys here!" Maggie shook her head.
"Well, at least that certainly hasn't changed. I believe the redheads are the Weasley family. I work with Mr. Weasley at the Ministry in London," Maggie said. The train whistle sounded. "You better be getting on that train, missy! I love you," she said, hugging Bethany.
"Love you, too! See you at Christmas!" Bethany hurried on the train to find a compartment. She felt rather out of place amidst all the different European accents. She knew she was one of very few American transfer students. She was suddenly glad that she had listened to her mother and worn khakis. Still, even her khakis were flares and her shirt was lavender with three/fourths sleeves. The amethyst amulet that her father had given her for her 11th birthday stood out against the material. She spied the Weasley twins sitting together in a compartment, conversing with another boy, who looked to be her age. She stepped inside the door.
"Hey…you guys mind if I join you?" she spoke up, shyly. The three looked up. The two redheads grinned.
"Bloody 'ell, o' course not! I'm Fred!"
"Come on in, right next to me, I'm George, the better half, I may add," the second redhead declared.
"Weasleys, right?" Bethany asked. Their eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Whoa, bloody excellent, didn't realize the family was known in the Americas as well," George said.
"That easy to tell I'm American?" Bethany quizzed teasingly. The three nodded. "Actually, my mother works with your father at the Ministry. I didn't know that till she saw you guys on the platform. I've only been in England for about a week."
"So why'd you come here from the US?" Fred asked.
"Who's the silent one?" Bethany wondered, avoiding his question. The other boy broke into a broad smile.
"Name's Oliver Wood," he said with a distinct Scottish lilt. His eyes met Bethany's. She blushed. "And yours…?"
"Oh, sorry. Bethany MacCleod."
"Ah, thought you were American…?" Oliver leaned toward her. Fred and George continued listening to the conversation, but began playing Exploding Snap.
"I am. Been to England only twice before. My father's Scottish."
"Ah, good man, good man. Have to meet him some day, tell him to take his sweet daughter to Scotland," he smiled. Bethany looked away, her heart dropping to her stomach.
"Um…he…he died last June," she said quietly, looking at her hands. Fred and George stopped their game. Oliver's face grew serious.
"I-I'm sorry," he apologized. She looked up, half-smiling.
"Don't be. He was a good man. You didn't know. I guess…all those years of teaching little brats like us just did him in, you know?" she tried to joke. Fred nodded seriously.
"Know 'xactly what you mean. Prob'ly students like us that did it."
"Us?" George asked in mock horror. "Never! We're perfect angels!" Oliver snorted.
"Right, and I'm Head Boy," he put in.
"Head Boy? You have those here, too? Oh, good. Maybe things aren't so different then," Bethany said.
"Where did you attend before Hogwarts, then? What year are you?" George asked.
"Cowlings School of Magic, in St. Francisville, Louisiana. My father was a teacher there. I was on the LaFayette Quidditch team and I'm a fourth year."
"You play Quidditch?" all three exclaimed at once. She giggled.
"Yeah, of course. Played since I was five, well, not on a team then, but I was to be captain this year. Youngest captain in the history of Cowlings. I'm a Chaser," she said.
"I'm the same year as you, and Keeper. Fred and George are our Beaters," Oliver informed her. "I'll take it that you're rather good, seeing as you were to be captain."
"Oliver's being modest. He'll be captain this year, for sure. No offense," Fred put in.
"So, you have houses here, I'm sure, right? Are y'all in the same house?"
"Right-o, Fred and I are third years, though. We're all in Gryffindor. Tonight at the Sorting ceremony, think 'Gryffindor,' alright?" George told her.
"Right," Oliver voiced. "I mean, 't would be a shame to have a perfectly beautiful and wonderful girl and Quidditch player stuck in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Then they might actually have a chance at winning the cup!"
"Lord knows she wouldn't fit in over at Slytherin. She has personality. I don't think they accept that there," Fred said in mock-seriousness.
"So those are the other three houses? Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin…" Bethany mused. "Hmm…Gryffindor would be best, with you guys, I mean, but Hufflepuff wouldn't be too bad, either. Just because it's fun to say." She smirked. "Gryffindor it is, then." They settled back, and continued talking as the Hogwarts Express grew closer to its destination.
"Bethany, please. You have a choice. Continue on at Cowlings, or you can attend Hogwarts here in England. You know I loved Hogwarts when I was there. Your father did as well. But it is entirely up to you. If you want to stay in Louisiana, say the word. You can always come to Surrey on breaks," her mother, Maggie, said. "I know this is hard for you now. I just thought you'd like to be closer to family." Bethany shrugged.
"Do they have Quidditch there?"
"Of course they do, Bethany!" Maggie answered.
"I mean, do they have good teams? Worth playing on?" Bethany persisted. Maggie nodded. "Well…since it is the end of the summer, and I'd be starting back to school anyway…I think I'd like to try someplace new. Too many…memories here. Of Daddy teaching…" She trailed off. Maggie hugged her.
"So Hogwarts then?" her mom questioned. Bethany nodded.
"Yeah, Hogwarts it is."
* * * * * * * * * *
A week later, Maggie and Bethany were standing on Platform 9¾.
"Wow. This is…wow. Totally different from Cowlings!" Bethany exclaimed. "I love it! I can't wait to see what the school looks like. I mean, I've seen pictures, but that's nothing like seeing it for yourself and…whoa, there are some totally hot guys here!" Maggie shook her head.
"Well, at least that certainly hasn't changed. I believe the redheads are the Weasley family. I work with Mr. Weasley at the Ministry in London," Maggie said. The train whistle sounded. "You better be getting on that train, missy! I love you," she said, hugging Bethany.
"Love you, too! See you at Christmas!" Bethany hurried on the train to find a compartment. She felt rather out of place amidst all the different European accents. She knew she was one of very few American transfer students. She was suddenly glad that she had listened to her mother and worn khakis. Still, even her khakis were flares and her shirt was lavender with three/fourths sleeves. The amethyst amulet that her father had given her for her 11th birthday stood out against the material. She spied the Weasley twins sitting together in a compartment, conversing with another boy, who looked to be her age. She stepped inside the door.
"Hey…you guys mind if I join you?" she spoke up, shyly. The three looked up. The two redheads grinned.
"Bloody 'ell, o' course not! I'm Fred!"
"Come on in, right next to me, I'm George, the better half, I may add," the second redhead declared.
"Weasleys, right?" Bethany asked. Their eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Whoa, bloody excellent, didn't realize the family was known in the Americas as well," George said.
"That easy to tell I'm American?" Bethany quizzed teasingly. The three nodded. "Actually, my mother works with your father at the Ministry. I didn't know that till she saw you guys on the platform. I've only been in England for about a week."
"So why'd you come here from the US?" Fred asked.
"Who's the silent one?" Bethany wondered, avoiding his question. The other boy broke into a broad smile.
"Name's Oliver Wood," he said with a distinct Scottish lilt. His eyes met Bethany's. She blushed. "And yours…?"
"Oh, sorry. Bethany MacCleod."
"Ah, thought you were American…?" Oliver leaned toward her. Fred and George continued listening to the conversation, but began playing Exploding Snap.
"I am. Been to England only twice before. My father's Scottish."
"Ah, good man, good man. Have to meet him some day, tell him to take his sweet daughter to Scotland," he smiled. Bethany looked away, her heart dropping to her stomach.
"Um…he…he died last June," she said quietly, looking at her hands. Fred and George stopped their game. Oliver's face grew serious.
"I-I'm sorry," he apologized. She looked up, half-smiling.
"Don't be. He was a good man. You didn't know. I guess…all those years of teaching little brats like us just did him in, you know?" she tried to joke. Fred nodded seriously.
"Know 'xactly what you mean. Prob'ly students like us that did it."
"Us?" George asked in mock horror. "Never! We're perfect angels!" Oliver snorted.
"Right, and I'm Head Boy," he put in.
"Head Boy? You have those here, too? Oh, good. Maybe things aren't so different then," Bethany said.
"Where did you attend before Hogwarts, then? What year are you?" George asked.
"Cowlings School of Magic, in St. Francisville, Louisiana. My father was a teacher there. I was on the LaFayette Quidditch team and I'm a fourth year."
"You play Quidditch?" all three exclaimed at once. She giggled.
"Yeah, of course. Played since I was five, well, not on a team then, but I was to be captain this year. Youngest captain in the history of Cowlings. I'm a Chaser," she said.
"I'm the same year as you, and Keeper. Fred and George are our Beaters," Oliver informed her. "I'll take it that you're rather good, seeing as you were to be captain."
"Oliver's being modest. He'll be captain this year, for sure. No offense," Fred put in.
"So, you have houses here, I'm sure, right? Are y'all in the same house?"
"Right-o, Fred and I are third years, though. We're all in Gryffindor. Tonight at the Sorting ceremony, think 'Gryffindor,' alright?" George told her.
"Right," Oliver voiced. "I mean, 't would be a shame to have a perfectly beautiful and wonderful girl and Quidditch player stuck in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Then they might actually have a chance at winning the cup!"
"Lord knows she wouldn't fit in over at Slytherin. She has personality. I don't think they accept that there," Fred said in mock-seriousness.
"So those are the other three houses? Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin…" Bethany mused. "Hmm…Gryffindor would be best, with you guys, I mean, but Hufflepuff wouldn't be too bad, either. Just because it's fun to say." She smirked. "Gryffindor it is, then." They settled back, and continued talking as the Hogwarts Express grew closer to its destination.