"That was different," Harry murmured softly. He never spoke loudly; it was both a curse and a gift. A curse, because he was mostly overlooked for his silence, and a gift because he was so damn good at sneaking around.

"Yeah," Hazel agreed. "We never knew Cedric, but he seems as nice as everyone says." While Hazel didn't speak loudly very often, she did have the ability to speak loudly and gain others attention.

They lapsed into a peaceful silence that was just a little too loud for it to last.

"Hello," said a voice they both knew all to well. "Would'ya mind if I sat here? Everywhere else is full."

Hazel turnd her head towards the much hated face of one Ronald King-of-the-World Billius Weasley, or just plain Weasley. Ron if you were friends with him, and if there were three people the twins hated, number one was Dumbles, number two Weasley, and third Granger. All betrayed them when they were most needed and most wanted.

Hazel, who had her eyes closed to block out memories, spoke. "You need to learn the importance of a good excuse, Mr-?"

Her words were polite, but tone not so much.

"Ehm-, Ron Weasley, you may just call me Ron," the irritating red-head replied. Hazel was disgusted she had anything in common with the freckle-faced word-author-shall-not-write.

"Well Mr. Weasley, I find it highly unlikely that everywhere else is full. However, I find it highly likely that you have siblings whom you can sit with. My brother does not appreciate people invading our space, and if he prefers not to socialize, then I will avoid contact with outsiders for him."

Hazel's reply was curt and calm, making it perfectly clear that Weasley was not wanted in that compartment.

Red rampaged up the youngest Weasley's face, but he did not move. "I must have made a mistake. You can't be Hazel Potter, you are far too rude, and he," Weasley gestured at Harry, forgetting that Hazel's eyes were closed, "can't be Harry Potter, he is far too quiet. Everyone knows that the Boy-Who-Lived is a total prankster."

Eyes snapping open, Hazel glared at Weasley. Instead of her nostrils flaring like most people's did, they did the opposite, becoming slits. "I will have you know, Weasley, I am Sage Evans, and this is my brother, James Evans. If you have mistaken us, you hade best be leaving this compartment and leaving us in peace."

The idiot shrank back but still glared vindictively.


How dare they! The youngest Weasley fumed.

No one even bothered to try and kick Ron Weasley, spy to the great Dumbledore from their compartment! It simply was not done.

But then again, it really didn't matter. They were just mudbloods in Ron's mind. There was no wizarding family with a plain name like Evans. They were the ones with the interesting names like Weasley. In Ron's opinion, his name was the best of them all.

But Ron could not be seen as weak, so he glared at SEvans.

"No, I quite like it here; I think I'll stay. It'll be you that has to leave." Ron plopped down on a seat next to SEvans. "Hey, cutie," Ron changed plan of action. Sage Evans was, in Ron's mind, quite a pretty girl. It didn't matter that they weren't even twelve yet, just that she had intoxicating eyes.

But, of course, the idiot's plan backfired.

JEvans whirled to glare at Ron, but it was JEvans who spoke. "Don't, ever, call my twin that."

The downright dangerous tone that JEvans used cause Ron to freeze. But he 'regained' his composure and smiled casually at the emo seeming boy.

"Sure," he said weakly, shifting away from SEvans. While the red-head was most definedly hot in the mind of one Ron Wasley, JEvans was not one to be messed with; Ron was sure of it.


Weasley was cowering. Hazel was sure of it. Normally when Harry spoke, it was because something had annoyed him, and very ocasionally because he truly, sincerely liked someone. In Weasley's case, he receaved the death glare, which, in all honesty, was quite scary.

Hazel cast a worried glance at her brother, and found his face stoicly set in stone. A tiny smile reached across her face.

"Leave," Harry continued coldly. "And do not come back."

Fear leapt into Weasley's blue eyes and he immediately stood, leaving.

"Thank Freyja," Harry murmured, voice returned to its usual, quiet cadence. How in the name of Merlin's shaggy, grey beard had he even remembered that Freyja didn't care how her name was used, let alone how to spell it?

Oh well, just another thing the world would never know as the narrator didn't feel like using her brain at that current moment in time. Oh well.

"Agreed," Hazel responded in her flute-like voice.

There was a polite knock on the door. "Can I please sit here?"

Hazel looked up to see a very shy looking Neville Longbottom standing in the doorway. "Sure thing! I have to warn you, though, my twin here is scary. I'm Hazel Potter, by the way, and this is my twin, Harry."

"Hello," Neville replied shyly. "I'm Neville Longbottom." His eyes flickered down to the ground, before darting to look around the compartment.

Hazel had forgotten how shy and belittled Neville had been as a first year, and, judging my the bemused look in his eyes, so had Harry. "Come on in, sidown," Hazel grinned at the shy first year who managed a weak grin back.

"What how do you think you'll be in?" Neville asked conversationally.

Hazel considered. "I really have no idea, but everyone thinks I'll be a Gryffindor. I myself am kind of thinking Hufflepuff. How 'bout you, Ry?"

Harry considered for a moment. "I like a surprise," he decided mysteriously. Hazel hid a snort behing a cough.

"I think that I'll be in Hufflepuff." By that point Hazel was quite confused. Was this really the boy who had chopped off Nagini's head with the sword of Gryffindor? Whoa...

She studied the slightly pudgy eleven year old. "I don't know about that, Neville. I think you have hidden bravery that no one else sees."

Neville perked up slightly. "You really think so?"

Harry nodded along with Hazel. "Yes," he said softly. "We really think so."

That was one of the twins weird perks. Each had a vague idea of the others thoughts when they wanted to, and the connection grew stronger if they wished it. They could - finish eachothers - sentences.

Neville took note of Harry's strange wording, but didn't comment. That took the younger Potter twin by surprise. Hazel was accustomed to people commenting on each and every strange thing about the twins that they didn't expect. For instance, they were both very small, not what one would expect from the Twins-Who-Lived. They were expected to be tall and imposing figures who swooped down from the sky and saved the townsfolk from trolls.

It simply was so unrealistic the narrator began to gag at the very thought then fell to the ground dead. Oh well.

They lapsed into a heavy silence, none knowing what to say. Except for Neville, who seemed to have inherited the pureblood social graces, unlike the Harzel- call me that and I'll kill you -twins complete lack thereof.

"Do you guys like to fly? I heard your dad, Captain Potter, was a good chaser."

The silent glance between the Harzel- call me that and I'll kill you -twins was generally unnerving for ousiders, but Neville didn't seem to mind.

"No," Hazel said finally. "The closest we've been to the sky was the roof of our school, which really wasn't very high. Uncle V wasn't very happy about that."

"Understatement," mumbled Harry, fiddling with the hem of his too-large shirt, a grimace becoming clear on his face for an instant before his expression was schooled to the completely calm, uncaring mask he often wore.

His mask wasn't repainted quick enough for Neville the ever observant to notice.

"What do you mean? And are you alright, Harry?"

"Nothing," Hazel said, the tones bouncing ominously off the walls. "Nothing at all."