A/N: Hello again! I've decided to trade POV between Gerry and the twins from here on out, so I'll make sure to label appropriately. Once again, lots of Australiana in this chapter, I hope you enjoy it. :) Please message me with any (kind) constructive notes.
Gerry POV
Gerry didn't stir from her place by the window until a group of first years tumbled into the compartment, chattering loudly amongst themselves. A hush fell across the group as a small girl frantically gestured to Gerry in the corner.
"There's someone here already!" the girl whispered, obviously panicked.
"No, no! Sit down! I don't bite and I promise I don't smell bad!" Gerry smiled kindly.
"Are you sure it's okay?" A larger boy asked warily.
"Of course, mate," she reassured. "I'm a new kid too, I could use the company."
The first years shared looks of apprehension; a skinny boy shifted nervously from foot to foot while the first girl who'd spoken chewed on her bottom lip.
Gerry sighed. She'd hoped she wouldn't have to use her secret weapon so early, but it appeared she had little choice. She fished a familiar rectangular package from her backpack and proffered it to the timid eleven-year olds. "I have Tim Tams."
Half an hour and a full pack of chocolate biscuits later; Gerry had learned more about the five first years who'd stumbled into her compartment than she had possibly ever cared to know. The small lip chewing girl, Lucinda (who preferred Lindy, by the way), was a childhood friend of the doll-faced blonde Rachael. Rachael, who would prefer death over Hufflepuff, was cousin to the nervous, skinny boy, Lachlan. Lachlan had less strong feelings about the uncertainty of his future house and was more concerned about the Actual Demon Potion Master that his older Ravenclaw brother had warned him about. The remaining two boys were Blythe and Donovan, a pair of muggleborns the other three had adopted on the platform. The group of five had collectively decided that they were now the best of friends and that it would be an act of Great Injustice should they be sorted into different houses.
A particularly explosive round of laughter at the expense of Gerry's Australian pronunciation of the word castle (CAR-sle) provoked a startled screech from Paulie, who'd been sleeping in his cage in the corner.
"What kind of owl is that?!" gasped Lindy. "I've never seen one so…." she trailed off diplomatically.
"Distinguished? Handsome? All together superior?" Gerry supplied helpfully.
"That's an ugly fuzzball," blurted Donovan, who flushed beet red when he realised he'd commented out loud. The other first years' eyes widened in panic, stares switching from Gerry to Donovan to Gerry again.
Gerry maintained a faux offended expression for all of about half a minute before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Confusion replaced panic as the first years watched Gerry struggle to regain her composure.
"No! Stop!" Gerry wheezed, "Oh sweet Jesus – ""you should have seen – ""your faces!"
When she had finally recovered Gerry removed Paulie from his cage and perched him on her wrist. Paulie himself was unimpressed with this development and chirruped his displeasure at his mistress, nipping at her fingers in rebellion.
"This is Paulie. He is named after Australian legend and all-round ocker bloke Paul Hogan. I also want it to be known first and foremost that Paulie is not an owl." Gerry explained calmly, petting the fuzzy feathers around his beak soothingly.
"What?" Donovan and Rachael chimed in unison.
"If he's not an owl, what is he?" asked Lindy.
"Paulie is a Frogmouth. A Tawny Frogmouth to be precise. A very handsome Tawny Frogmouth," Gerry crooned. She proceeded to make nauseating kissing noises at her beloved bird in hopes of scarring the first years for life. She succeeded almost entirely as only Lindy didn't scrunch her face in disgust at her exaggerated display of affection for her unusual pet. Paulie cooed back open mouthed, revealing a shock of yellow throat which only served to unsettle the first years further.
Sensing she was pushing her younger companions too far, Gerry deposited Paulie back in his cage with a final smooch to the top of his downy head.
"So… who likes Quidditch?" she asked. Just like that the conversation continued, previous bird-related weirdness forgotten.
The rain was pelting down when the train began to slow. "Bit wet out, huh?" Gerry joked to her brood of first years. "Come on girlies, we should go get our robes on."
Gathering up her own uniform and the two younger girls, Gerry led the way out of the compartment in search of a less boy infested compartment to change clothes. It wasn't until the lights began flickering and frost spread ominously across the windows did Gerry realise something was wrong. The train squealed to a halt, eliciting shrieks of fright from students up and down the train. The lights flickered once, twice, three times before failing entirely, plunging the carriage into darkness. By now mass hysteria had set in amongst the students; Gerry wondered if everyone could feel the knife's edge of dread in the pit of their stomachs or whether it was just her. She turned to hurry Rachael and Lindy along only to find that they had already bolted.
The feeling of dread intensified, forcing a gasp from Gerry's lips as she pressed herself against the nearest wall. She slid to the floor, clutching her knees for comfort as a shadowy figure made its way along the carriage. Gerry could feel herself slipping into panic, her mind jumping from one hurtful memory to the next.
Her parents' many screaming matches late at night.
The day as a 5-year-old that she'd accidently made her drawing of a butterfly float off the page, prompting joy from her Mum and fury from her Dad.
The day Dad kicked Jonathon out of the house after he discovered J with the boy next door.
The birthday present she'd charmed for her muggle brother Franky at school, only for her Dad to destroy it as an abomination.
The day her Dad hit her.
Gerry was jolted from her nightmarish reverie by two sets of hands pulling her roughly into the compartment in front of which she'd collapsed.
She stared up at her saviours, tears spilling down her cheeks as she sat on the floor in shock.
"You alright?" questioned the first handsome face.
"That's a stupid thing to ask, look at her!" hissed the second, confusingly similar handsome face.
"It's gonna be okay, doll. Just breathe." The first face soothed; or was it the second face? Gerry was still too disoriented to tell.
The two handsome faces disappeared from her immediate field of vision, only to reappear once they had helped her into a seat.
"I'm Fred and he's George," introduced the first handsome face.
"You may notice we look the same, but don't worry, we're easy to tell apart –"said the second handsome face.
"I'm the good looking one!" both faces joked in unison.
Gerry stared blankly at them, still coming to terms with the sudden turn of events.
"Sooo…." began George.
"Who're you?" finished Fred.
"And why haven't we seen you before?" George asked.
Gerry paused a beat before looking up to reply.
"I need chocolate."