The platform was filled with a familiar steam that obscured all around. The small Rose, her red hair neatly plaited and Hogwarts robes crisp and clean, stood between her parents, again looking up at the great, scarlet engine with trepidation.

'I don't want to go,' she said quietly, but no one seemed to hear.

Beside her, the small Hugo, newly turned 9, had a face of wonder and longing as he looked at precisely the same scene. It was 10 to eleven, and Rose Weasley would soon be rushing through the countryside towards her third term at Hogwarts. Her mother's reassuring grip on her shoulder was no comfort.

Between clouds of smoke could be seen a stocky red-headed man and an athletic, pretty black woman beside him. Holding the woman's hand was a girl, not much older than Hugo, gazing around the scene with equal excitement. Rose recognised her cousin Roxanne. A way in front of the family was her older brother, Fred, in deep discussion with two other Gryffindor 3rd years, the taller and blond one being another cousin, Louis.

'George!' called Ron and wandered towards the family, quickly followed by Hugo. Taking advantage of their absence, Rose turned towards her mother.

'Do I have to go?' she murmured, blushing slightly. Hermione's face formed a sad smile.

'Why don't you like Hogwarts? You were so excited to start.'

There was a silence as Rose tried to form a sentence that she thought would not sound ridiculous.

'I thought I'd be a Gryffindor then,' she said, bowing her head slightly, 'but I'm not and it's… lonely.'

'Don't be silly,' Hermione said tenderly, 'Houses don't mean that much at all. There's no need to feel left out. You can still be as close friends with Albus and your other cousins as ever.' But Rose's face was still doubtful as little tears formed in her eyes. 'There really is nothing to be scared of. And you've already made great friends with other Ravenclaws, what about Violet? Scorpius seems to be your best friend of all, and he's in a different house.' Rose nodded timidly as Hermione smoothed her hair. 'You can be friends with whoever you want; you'll have a great term.'

Rose smiled for her mother and Hermione smiled back. Behind the pale blue eyes Rose's mind was still restless, still full of fear and dismissive of her mother's words. Of course houses are important, why would everyone care about them so much if they weren't?

From the mist appeared Albus, still muggle-attired and pulling with him his trolley packed with a hooting owl and sizeable trunk. He smiled at Rose and she returned it. Behind Albus were Harry, Ginny and Lily, for James had already run off to join Fred and his other friends.

Rose and Albus entered into vague conversation about their holidays and their hopes for the next term, Rose well-concealing her uncertainty. Lily observed them, looking somewhat put-out, as she always did when her brothers were returning to Hogwarts and she was not.

Above them, Ron had returned and it was to he and Hermione that Harry addressed his next statement.

'You've probably heard, but Professor Flitwick told me yesterday about the memorial next month.'

'No I hadn't. Merlin's beard, doesn't feel like 20 years,' Ron replied solemnly. Hermione held his hand without anyone noticing.

'They're having it in the Hogwarts' grounds,' said Ginny. 'The Prophet's giving me the day off; the same goes for anyone at the Ministry who wants to go.'

'It's good they're doing it,' said Hermione, slightly quieter than her usual voice. 'It will be nice.'

'Yeah,' muttered Harry, Ron and Ginny and nodded in agreement.

All four of them thought of precisely the same thing as they looked down at their children, conversing and running around and laughing.

Rose only half-heard this conversation, and understood it even less.

'I'm going to find Jason,' said Albus, 'see you on the train!' Rose wondered for a moment if she would be friends with Jason McLaggen if she were a Gryffindor. She had wondered a little from her parents, and could no longer see them through the mist. Her thoughts were interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a boy slightly taller than herself, with white-blond hair and a pointed face.

'Hi,' said Rose quickly, her face lighting up, 'where are your parents?'

Scorpius shrugged.

'Somewhere around here. They were talking to some boring old friends so I left them.'

Ron emerged out of the smoke behind them.

'Scorpius,' he said curtly, before turning to Rose, 'The train's off in a few minutes, you should get a space.' He bent down slightly so their faces were at the same height. 'Have a great time, alright? And you and Al keep an eye on James and Fred, make sure to report back any trouble.' Rose grinned up at her father and he pulled her into a hug. 'There's a kind of memorial thing so me and Mum will see you in a month, and remember what I said in September about your tests.' Ron glanced at Scorpius then winked at Rose, who rolled her eyes.

Hermione appeared. She kissed Rose gently on the head and stroked down the red hair that was escaping from Rose's plait. 'I promise it won't be that bad,' she whispered in her ear.

As Rose and Scorpius boarded the train, they were almost hit by an enchanted firework that had whizzed from the compartment where James sat with his friends. The train was packed this close to 11, and Rose caught fleeting glimpses of familiar faces as they rushed past her. Victoire blew a kiss to Teddy out of the train window; Frankie Longbottom sat gossiping with a group of Gryffindor girls; Molly, Percy's daughter, was lecturing someone on their use of a fanged frisbee. Rose and Scorpius eventually found a compartment at the very end of the carriage, just in time for Rose to stick her head out of the window and wave back at her parents and Hugo, who looked just as miserable as Lily beside him.

Rose replayed that day in her head as the car pulled up outside King's Cross 5 years later. If she had listened to her mother, would her life be so very different? Would she have spent her Easter with Albus and Jason rather than Scorpius?

And then she thought of the conversation she had only half-heard, and wondered how great was the pain that her father still felt for his lost brother, how recent did those brutal battles still seem in her parents' minds? How little her fears of Hogwarts had been compared to that great grief.