Chapter 4

A/N: It has been way too long, and I realize that! School started up again, and I just didn't have the time. I began this a few weeks ago, but then it was finals, and I had family visiting, and nothing got done. But now I'm on vacation, and here is the next chapter, thank you to everyone who has stayed with this. Review!

Dinner is done. In my humble opinion, it is the best dinner I have ever had in my entire life. Not necessarily for the food, but the company on its own has been fantastic. Sitting at the large wooden table, in between Harry and Ginny (something tells me there is something there), I was brought into conversation, asked questions, given time to ask my own questions, and merely listen to these wonderful strangers that I hoped to get to know better.

Now, sitting in my new room that I will share with Ginny and Hermione, all the kids have congregated to talk. The four youngest Weasley kids are present (I have just learned that there are more of them), as well as Hermione, Harry, and I, are sprawled on chairs, the bed, and the floor. It seems as if they have turned it into story time, with my life being the story. George asks the obvious questions. "So, Miss Jessie. What on Earth is Texas like? And how did you get here on your own?"

I stop what I'm doing, putting down the shirt I am in the process of unpacking. I don't mind telling everyone about my old life and everything that happened in The States. Its simply that it isn't as uplifting a story as they may expect. I turn and face the room, resting with my back against the wall. My eyes wander over all of them, these kids that grew up in England, a whole world away from a little country town in Texas. I scrunch up my nose, something that I have a habit of doing when deep in thought. I ask no one in particular, "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

So I begin from the start, and lay out the most important and basic details, leaving out certain things I can't bear to tell them for the fear of hearing them out loud. Those are things that no one needs to know about my old life.

"Well, I grew up in a tiny town in Texas named Whitman. It was a nice, quiet little place, with a population of about 50,000 people. I lived with a man, his wife, and their son, Max. He's 19 now. Didn't ever like me much. Thought I was odd because I wasn't actually his sibling. The couple was nice enough. They treated me well, but they were pretty ordinary, nothing much to say there." I pause, wondering where to go from there.

Hermione speaks up. "How about schooling? What kind of school would a small place like that have?" Perched on her lap is a book that looks ancient. Like the book she was holding when I first met her, there is a coat of dust covering its cover. Hermione keeps her eyes on me, her interest in education shining through her deep brown eyes.

I laugh. "You're right, actually. Whitman had the smallest little charter school. I don't know that you could even call it a school, it was so small. I think that's why my adoptive parents decided to send me to the public school in the city.

"I went to school in Austin, one of the big cities of Texas. The schooling system was larger, better, and had a nicer reputation. But..." I trail off, reminiscing. "To be honest, the schools there were terrible."

Harry, sitting at my side, frowns. Since we went in for dinner a mere hour ago, he has acted towards me in such a way that I feel like I have been with him my whole life. As cliche as it sounds, I feel like I'm no longer missing a part of me. He nudges me, commenting, "What do you mean, the schools were terrible? Bad teachers? Bad grades? Bad food?"

I look down at my hands and smile. "No, nothing like that. Just the typical, stupid bullies. Because I wasn't a city kid, and since I wore classes from age six, I was picked on a lot. Kind of kept to myself. Read a lot." Here, I swear I see Ron nudge Hermione and give her a look, as if to say, See, you aren't the only one. She glares at him in response and turns back to face me.

Ginny asks, "Why would you be bullied for not living in the big city? That's ridiculous! I bet you were the most adorable little kid, too, I mean, we saw Harry at age 11 and he was a dorky little sweetheart." She turns at sticks her tongue out at my brother. His ears turn red and everyone laughs. He shoots back at her, "Well, how about meeting all of you at once, a whole gang of miniature redheads that all looked the same?"

I giggle with them, glad that, for now, the attention is off of me. I watch as Harry and Ginny banter back and forth. Maybe there's something there... I'll be sure to ask Harry about it. Hermione and Ron eventually join in, joking and teasing. The Weasley twins are there behind everyone see, ready to provide any necessary, embarrassing material on another Weasley. I tilt my head back against the wall and look out over the group that I know will eventually become my closest friends. My eyes lock with Harry, and he reaches over and squeezes my knee reassuringly. Behind his glasses, I see my own eyes looking back at me, and when he smiles, I know that I will be happy here.

Over the next week, I am given a front to back tutorial on how to get along in the wizarding world. I am showed books upon books of spells, as well as biographies and stories with pictures that move and speak. I get used to watching kitchen appliances float around the kitchen as Molly makes meals, and in the afternoons, we kids all walk to an empty field just outside town, and, most importantly, they teach me how to fly.

Harry lets me borrow his broom, which, from what I've heard, is the best kind around. At first, I refuse to do it. I mean, who would want to get on a sweeping utensil and fly around? Hermione hates flying, and she seems like the most logical of the group. Then again, she is the only one who doesn't fly. Harry, as well as every Weasley, loves to fly and knows how to play the wizarding sport Quidditch, which Harry equated to basketball mixed with football. Nevertheless, I'm afraid to try it, and when Harry first sticks me on his broom, it's terrifying.

It's about a week into my stay with everyone, and I've become closer to everyone around me. Particularly Ginny, who, even though studying one year below us all, seems the most at my level. She and I usually hang out, talking often and getting to know each other better. Hermione and Ron are both very friendly, but it just seems like I need to do a bit more to get into their good graces. Not that I mind; I understand where they are coming from. The Weasley twins are a whole other story. They treat me like another younger sibling, not spared at all. Specifically, George, who seems to delight in teasing me at any opportunity given to him. I know to ignore him. Harry and I have picked up as if we've been together our whole lives. We are similar in tastes, likes and dislikes, and the way in which we speak is very alike. I couldn't have hoped for anything better.

As we arrive at the field that day, the redheads ascend into the air immediately. Hermione pulls out the blanket she brought with her, and, upon sitting down, buries her head yet again into a voluminous text. Harry turns to me and hands me his broom without a word.

"Oh, no," I say. I wave my hands in front of me, pushing the wooden handle away. "Are you kidding me? I would kill someone, probably you. And I would break your broom. So many things would go wrong. You don't want me on that thing."

He teases, "Are you extremely clumsy and uncoordinated?", and as I slowly shake my head, he takes my hands in his, and moves them to properly grip the broom. He explains how to straddle it, and after I do, he tells me to picture flying through the air.

" Jessie, you're going to be just fine. Dig your feet into the ground, then push off, imagining being up in the air. You'll be fine. I promise, you'll be okay."

I look at him for a few seconds longer, then follow his instructions. I instinctively close my eyes, and as I push off, a gust of wind hits me in the face and my hair flies out behind me. I breathe it in, nice and deep. Only when I distantly hear Harry's cheers from somewhere below me do I open my eyes and look around. It's amazing: I can see the whole of the landscape around me, and, looking out from above the trees, I feel untouchable. I glance down, and I see Harry's figure jumping up and down. I can't help it: I laugh out loud, and wave down at him. Then I decide to try actually flying. Without thinking, I lean forward, and the broom zips forward. I lean to the right, and the broom follows my body in that direction. Giggling uncontrollably, I zoom towards Ginny, who's a few hundred yards to my side. I reach her, and she laughs with me.

"Look at you! You're a natural. Got that from your brother, who got that from your father. Very nice, Miss Potter." Together, we shoot forward, and I feel unstoppable.

By dinner time, I'm so happy, I don't think it's physically possible for the smile to be wiped off of my face. We all trek back to the house, chatting loudly, and talking. We get back, and everyone is going inside, but Hermione pulls me aside before we walk in. She gestures me away from the door, wanting to say something. The smile slowly slips off my face, and my brow furrows. Did I do something that didn't make her happy? I ask.

"Is something wrong?"

She shakes her head and gives me a small smile. "No, not at all. Quite the opposite, actually. I wanted to say thank you to you."

I'm taken aback. I've been here for seven days, and all I've done in that time is take from these people. "Uh, may I ask what I've done?"

Hermione chuckles a little bit, then looks down at her feet. Then she looks up at the quickly darkening sky, and speaks upward. "Jessie, I don't know what Harry, or anyone else, has told you about the past few years. I'm assuming you've got some gaps in the story. Over time, I can guarantee that those gaps will be filled. But what I can tell you right now is that Harry has been through more than many people have to go through in their entire lives. He's lost almost all of his family; Sirius was all he had left. Death has followed him around like an old friend, and he can't seem to ever do anything without a terrible consequence.

"When school ended last year, he was in a place darker than I've ever seen him. I was worried that he wouldn't come out of it. But when we all met up here, and he saw Sirius, he seemed to be doing a bit better. Then you arrived, and I swear, I have never seen him happier. It's like a light has been switched on inside of him. I am so happy that you're here. I think everyone is. You make him happy, you make him push on, to keep fighting whatever he's going through. You've... renewed him. And I can't thank you enough for helping out my best friend. Thank you. We all owe you."

I don't know what the norms are that differ between America and England. Honestly, I doubt I will ever figure them out. But as Hermione says this, I couldn't care less. Before I know what I'm doing, I dive at her, and bring her into a hug. She hugs me back, and I say quietly in her ear, "You're welcome. Anything for Harry." Together we walk back inside, and I feel like I've just earned myself another friend. The smile returns back to my face.