After a fair bit of yelling, Ron, Fred, and George standing there, taken aback and embarrassed, Mrs. Weasley turned quite pleasantly towards me and smiled warmly.
It was funny how a woman could change in a matter of seconds. "Hello, Haile, dear," she said, friendly. "How have you been?"
"Not so good," I admitted, "but I'm much better now that I'm here."
"Oh, sweetie, don't get me wrong!" Mrs. Weasley gushed, as she took me by the shoulder and led me into her home, the boys trailing behind. "I'm extremely happy to see you. What I'm not happy about is the way you came. We would have been happy to come and get you ourselves, or met you at a station…"
"Well, thank you," I said, unsure of what to say. I looked around in amazement. I had never been inside a wizard family's home. There were wizard books, a magical clock, and wands lay around in the wide open. The Dursleys would have died! I looked on in awe.
After many dirty looks by Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron mumbled an apology.
Mrs. Weasley angrily began to make breakfast. I realized I was starving as I started smelling the delicious scents of bacon, eggs, and sausages. Ron handed me a glass of orange juice, and us four sat down to breakfast.
A second later, Ron's little sister, Ginny, appeared and her mouth dropped when she saw me. "Haile Potter?" Ginny said, dumbfounded. "At…our house?"
"Hi," I said, between mouthfuls of sausage. I waved animatedly.
"Ron!" Ginny squealed, running over to the table. "So, you weren't lying."
"What?" I asked, confused. I sipped some orange juice, and Mrs. Weasley shoveled more eggs onto my plate. I murmured thanks, turning back to Ginny.
Ron grinned. "She didn't believe me when I told her you were my best friend and we spent the whole year together," Ron said. I beamed.
Fred and George nodded. "And she didn't believe that we threw you from the seventh floor and you magically floated back up using your magnificent secret powers that we secretly knew you possessed," George said, winking at me.
"That's true, too!?" Ginny exclaimed.
"Sorry, Ginny, no," I said, shooting George and Fred a reproachful look. "I have no secret powers, unfortunately."
"That's questionable," Ron said quietly, and I knew what he meant, but didn't feel like getting into it.
"Think I'll go to bed," Fred said, pushing his empty plate away.
"Oh, no, you won't!" Mrs. Weasley said shrilly. "You have to de-gnome the garden."
Fred groaned and George began to protest. "Can I help?" I asked, generously.
"Oh, dear, you can go on up to bed," Mrs. Weasley told me, warmly.
"Oh, no," I said brightly. "I'm wide-awake. I'd love to see how it's done."
"Whatever sparks your wand," Mrs. Weasley said airily. "Let me check at what Lockhart has to say…" She began searching for a book in the living room.
Fred, George, and Ron groaned. "Not again, Mum!" Ginny complained.
"Lockhart?" I questioned. I reached down to scratch my ankle.
"Gilderoy Lockhart," Mrs. Weasley said, blushing. "He's brilliant. He's an author." She flipped through a few pages of a book that had a tall, blue-eyed man on the cover, winking and smiling.
"Never heard of him," I said, shrugging. "Do you think he's good-looking or something?"
Fred and George pretended to wretch all over the kitchen floor, while Ron and Ginny shot out in laughter. "It's not just that," Mrs. Weasley said, defensively. "Go and do it yourselves, then. But get it done quick!"
Ron and I followed Fred and George out the front door again. It was now a bright, crisp summer morning. We walked around the house to the back, where we filed through a chain-link fence and arrived in a beautiful garden.
"Pretty!" I exclaimed, running over to a fountain. "And look, flowers!" I ran over to them. I put out a hand to pick one, but something bit my fingers.
I screamed, and Fred and George cracked up, laughing. "It's the gnomes," Ron pointed out, as I withdrew my hand quickly, observing two new bite marks imprinted on my index and middle fingers.
"Vicious little things," I remarked, and suddenly, George reached behind the bush with the flowers and plucked it out from behind.
I gasped. It was very ugly. It was only about two to three feet tall, multiple shades of light browns and tans, and it looked like a little, deformed human being. "Watch," Fred said, holding another one.
Fred and George whipped them around like lassos. I watched, fascinated, as they flung them out of the garden, way out into the green fields beyond the house.
I hurriedly found one behind the fountain. I hesitantly picked it up (it was sleeping), and when it woke up, it started squirming like mad. I struggled to keep holding it, and finally began to swing it around and around, until I became dizzy. I let it go, and heard approving whistles from Fred, George, and Ron I.
"Nice one, H," Ron said, impressed. "Come on, there's a lot more to go."
So, us four worked through the morning, gathering all the little gnomes we could and throwing them over the fence. They marched away, looking down and upset. I waved at them, and blew kisses.
"Oh, just in time!" Fred exclaimed, as we heard the door slam. "Come on, we might as well talk to Dad!"
We hurried inside, and I caught sight of Mr. Weasley chatting to Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen. "Dad," Fred said, happily. "Would you look at what the cat dragged in?"
"Can we keep her, please?" George mockingly begged.
Mr. Weasley's eyes caught sight of me. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed, jumping a bit. "Who's…is it Haile Potter? Oh, I'm so pleased to see you, but how on Earth did you…?" He looked at Mrs. Weasley for an explanation.
"Your sons," Mrs. Weasley began icily, "took your car. They flew it to Haile's house. And brought her back."
Mr. Weasley seemed flustered for a few moments. "Listen, Molly, I was going to tell you about the car—"
"I don't care about that!" she said, shrilly. "What I care about is that your sons flew it without telling us last night! Don't you have something to say!?"
"Oh, um, right. Boys—that was….er…very bad. Go to your rooms at once." He sounded stern, but the moment Mrs. Weasley, satisfied, turned her back, he whispered quietly to George, "How did it go?"
George gave him a thumbs-up and followed his twin up the stairs. Ron motioned to the stairs and us two proceeded upstairs too.
So, the next few days were very pleasant and enjoyable, indeed. I ate heartily, helped around the house without complaint, and played Quidditch freely with Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny. I even got some of my homework done with Ron, since he hadn't opened a book all summer either.
Finally, our letters from Hogwarts came, enclosing our supplies for the new coming year. I glanced down at it. "There must be a mistake," I said, rubbing my glasses. "All the books are by that guy Gilderoy Lockhart…"
"Oh, ours says it, too," Fred said, motioning to his own paper. "Bet the new Dark Arts teacher is a huge fan."
"Yeah," I said distantly, looking at all the books. Wanderings with Werewolves? Travels with Trolls? Holidays with Hags? Is this guy for serious? I shrugged it off and looked up at Mrs. Weasley's concerned face.
"Is there something wrong?" I asked politely.
"Oh, no, dear," she said, waving it off.
"Lockhart's books are really pricey," Ron murmured to me. "And we have to get Ginny stuff for Hogwarts this year, too."
"Ginny?" I asked, turning around to look at her. We had hit it off pretty quickly the week I had been here, and she seemed to admire me.
"I'm starting Hogwarts this year," Ginny said, proudly, and I felt stupid I hadn't realized it earlier.
"Of course!" I exclaimed. "That's so exciting! Last year, I was so nervous, but luckily I had Ron and—"
"Well, it really was us, you know, who took young Haile here under our wing," George said, lovingly.
"Oh, yes," Fred said, crisply, putting his arm around my shoulder and squeezing me tight. "We were attached at the hip all year, you could say. Inseparable."
"Uh, no, we weren't!" I said, detaching myself from Fred's grip, in a juvenile sort of way. "Don't you remember that one time when you told me the library was down the left corridor, but instead I walked right into a—"
"Good morning," came a professional, dignified voice from the hallway, saving Fred and George, for Mrs. Weasley had begun listening to my story at that moment. "Oh, hello, Haile, didn't know you had arrived."
"I've been here for about a week," I told him, while Fred and George sniggered.
"Oh, have you? I've just been so busy, nice to see you," he chirped, and sat down at the table. "Hope you've been well." I nodded back. Fred and George were mockingly giving me bows and shaking my head very professionally.
"Oh, Ron, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, suddenly. "Hermione's answer came this morning." She handed Ron a letter, and Ron read it out loud to me.
"'Dear Ron, and Haile, if you've made it there in one piece, I hope you know it was very foolish to go and get Haile because you could get in a lot of trouble. Write me back as soon as possible—I've been worried sick. Oh, and I'm going to Diagon Alley next Wednesday—why don't we meet there? Love from, Hermione.'"
"Well, next Wednesday it is," Mrs. Weasley said, brightly. "I'll go tell Arthur…"
The rest of the week I spent there was just as nice as the first. And the next Wednesday, we were woken up very early to go to Diagon Alley as promised.
"How are we going to get there?" I asked, suppressing a yawn, as Ron and I ambled down the stairs.
"Floo Powder, of course—oh wait, you've never traveled by it before, have you?" he asked, sleepily.
"No," I said, wrinkling my nose. "What's Floo Powder?"
"Oh, you throw some ashes into a fire and it transports you through the Floo network," Ron explained. It was early in the morning, so I didn't expect a detailed answer, but I still hadn't a clue what he was talking about.
"Let me demonstrate, Haile," George said, when we had all gathered around the fireplace in the living, and I had confessed my problem to George. He took a bit of powder from a flowerpot his mother was holding, and stepped into the fireplace, throwing the powder at the flames and yelled, "Diagon Alley!" and he was gone.
I was shocked. "Where did he go?" I asked, bemused.
"To Diagon Alley," Ron said, laughing. "Like he said."
"Weird…" I said, helping myself to some powder. "Alright, I'll try this." I threw it into the flames and a warm fire rose above me. "Diagon Alley," I choked out, for I swallowed some ash when I took a breath.
After experiencing the travel of Floo Powder, I will never, ever flush a goldfish down the toilet again—no matter if it's dead. It's the strangest thing to experience. I spun and spun and spun—I couldn't breathe—my elbow hit something hard—my head was spinning—then it was over.
I hit the ground hard, and I rubbed my sore bosom. "Ouch," I muttered, frustrated.
"What are you doing in here?" came a sharp voice.
I looked up, wiping soot off my face. However, I realized my hand was covered in soot itself and I probably just made myself look worse. I hurriedly covered my scar with my bangs. I didn't need that right now. "Uh…sorry, Floo Powder troubles," I coughed.
I looked up and saw a greasy old man staring at me, disgustedly.
"You shouldn't be here, get out, you filthy child!" he said hurriedly. "Oh, no, here comes Lucius, go hide over there!"
I obliged, not understanding why I could not just walk out the door. I climbed into a near wardrobe, and left it open just slightly, so I could see who this Lucius was.
Turns out that 'Lucius', as he walked in the door, with a certain blonde jerkwad, was Draco's father. "Ah, Mr. Borgin," Lucius said, shortly. "Business today."
"Buying or selling?" Mr. Borgin asked, as if he went through this conversation often.
"Selling."
I lost interest in their conversation, but I watched Draco closely look around the shop, eyeing everything curiously. Of course. Fred and George were saying…Lucius Malfoy…
"What a piece of rubbish," Draco would occasionally mutter, while examining all the different knick-knacks and antiques around the shop. Or he'd interrupt his father's conversation with, "Can I have this, father?" to which his father would silently shake his head dismissively.
Draco finally reached my hiding place. Oh, bloody brilliant. His hand reached out, but his father called him over before he touched the handle on the wardrobe. I breathed with relief. "Draco! We're leaving," Lucius said, shortly. "Thank you, Mr. Borgin. Good day."
Mr. Borgin waved as they exited the shop, and I stepped out of the stuffy wardrobe, sighing with relief. "That was close," I breathed. Mr. Borgin eyed me carefully.
"Floo Powder troubles, you said?" he asked me, suspiciously. "I see. Who are you?"
"Um…why couldn't I just walk out the door when the Malfoys were coming?" I countered, hoping he'd forget his question.
"They would have asked questions and I hate questions," Mr. Borgin said, darkly. "Now, get out of my shop!"
I hurriedly shuffled out of the stop. What a grumpy man. Now, all I had to do is find out where I was, and where Diagon Alley was, so I could find the Weasleys. Feeling slightly optimistic, I began to stride down the streets with all the confidence I could muster, being covered in soot head-to-toe and completely lost.
A few men approached me, as I took a few steps down the alleyway. My heart sank and my confidence disappeared at once. "Well, well, well, who have we here?" one man asked, his hands shaking even though the weather was quite warm.
Another man frowned. "She is too small, she'll never be able to fight properly…"
"She'll do fine," said the third man. He then spoke to me. "Come, girl, we have plans for you! We'll explain it all—"
"HAILE, IS THAT YOU?" roared an incredulous voice from behind me. I whipped around and saw Hagrid, almost sprinting towards me.
"Hagrid! Oh, thank goodness, I—"
He picked me up without a word and carried me for a few minutes as we walked straight out of that—that place, and into Diagon Alley. I had been very close to the exit—it was only a passageway away—but I might've passed it by just the same. Thank goodness for Hagrid.
"Oh, sweet Merlin," Hagrid muttered, wiping sweat from his large forehead. "Why on Earth were you doing down in Knockturn Alley, Haile…haven't seen yeh all summer…never wrote back ter me, yeh didn't…what's been happenin'?"
I explained all about Dobby the house-elf, Ron coming to rescue me, and my bad experience with Floo Powder. "Now, if only I could find the Weasleys," I finished, dusting off my pants a bit. "I look absolutely dreadful…"
"Haile!" came a voice to my right, and Hagrid and I looked around.
"Oh, there you are," said Ron, with Fred, George, Ginny, and his parents at his heel. I smiled broadly at the sight of them.
"I got off at a different fireplace, I suppose," I explained hurriedly, as they all rushed towards me.
"Where?" Ginny asked, curiously.
"Knockturn Alley," I said darkly, pointing to the alleyway where Hagrid had led me out of us.
"Oh, brilliant!" George exclaimed, as Fred whooped.
"We've never been allowed in," Ron said, with raised eyebrows. "What's it like?"
"Oh, you won't want to go in there!" I exclaimed frantically. "It's awful, I saw the Malfoys…" I added, as Mrs. Weasley began removing the soot from my clothing.
"Where did you see him?" Arthur Weasley asked at once. I looked up at him.
"Borgin and Burkes, I believe was the name," I said, shivering. "Horrible little shop, filled with little 'treasures' and such. Disgusting, really."
"Did he buy?" Mr. Weasley asked sharply.
"No…he was selling."
"Interesting," Arthur replied, nodding his head in my directions. Mrs. Weasley quickly scrubbed my face free of dirt and we were on our way.
"So, have you seen Hermione yet?" I asked, as we set off towards Gringotts, waving good-bye to Hagrid.
As if on cue, a very familiar, bushy-haired girl sprinted up us, panting. "Oh, Haile, Ron, hi!" she exclaimed, as I hugged her, squealing.
"How are you?" I burst out, happily. I was happy. I was back in the wizarding world with my best friends. And I was going back to Hogwarts.
"Fantastic; I'll come with you to Gringotts," Hermione decided, and she set off with us.
I waved excitedly to the goblins as I had done last year, and just like last year, they stared at me like they couldn't believe I existed and looked quite bemused at the same time.
However, my excitement faded tremendously when we reached the Weasleys' vault. Mrs. Weasley sadly emptied its contents, which weren't much, and when we arrived at mine, I felt extremely embarrassed and lucky to have such a fortune.
After Gringotts, everyone seemed to want to split up. Ron, Hermione and I ventured off on our own. We bought ice cream, looked at the pet shops, checked out the Quidditch equipment while Hermione went next door to a book shop, and finally, reached Flourish and Blotts to buy our Lockhart books.
"Oh, look!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing at a sign on the shop window. "He's here! He's giving autographs! Oh, we can actually meet Gilderoy Lockhart!"
She could hardly contain her excitement, and I laughed at her, while Ron looked repulsed. We hurried in, and to our delight, saw the Weasleys in the front of the line. We hurried to them, and Mrs. Weasley was beaming when she caught sight of us.
"Oh, there you are," she gushed. "We'll be able to meet him in just a moment…"
There was a photographer taking pictures, presumably for the newspaper, and a few men keeping the line in check. Then, Gilderoy Lockhart made his grand entrance. The crowd went wild.
He was the exact replica of the book Mrs. Weasley had in her home. He had perfectly curly, light brown hair, dazzling blue eyes, a perfect tan (I secretly wondered whether he had been to a tanning salon), and the brightest smile I had ever seen.
Ron and I covered our ears from the uproar. Mrs. Weasley hurriedly patted her hair and Hermione straightened her shirt. I giggled.
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," Lockhart said, beaming at us all. "It is such a pleasure to—" He stopped short, his eyes falling on mine. I gulped.
"Oh, no," I muttered, closing my eyes. "Not here. Please."
"Oh, my goodness, it's Haile Potter!" Lockhart shouted directly at me.