TG: i CANT believe ur on a train about to leave to WIZARD SCHOOL

TG: this is so. DIRK NEVER TOLD ME EITHER

TG: he KNOWS how i feel abt wizards

TG: he KNOWS

TT: It never ceases to blow my mind that you just... genuinely enjoy wizards as a concept.

TT: There's no hint of irony. No second layer.

TT: Just a singular, uncorrupted love for... wizards.

TT: Of all things.

TG: listen, sort-of daughtr of mine

TG: i would NEVER. NEver be careless or fuck around w my love of wizards

TG: it must remain pure

TG: pure like wizardy herbert, whose life im totally not basing off of yours in any way

TG: what was the school called again? hugwump?

TT: Hold on, someone's at the door of my compartment. Also I might lose reception soon, so be aware of that. The Scottish Highlands aren't exactly known for their support of cutting-edge technology.

Rose turned her head towards the door. "What is it?" she asked.

The compartment slid open, revealing a boy her age with wild red hair. He looked up at her.

"Er," he said. "All of the other compartments are full, but you're not sitting with anyone."

"An astute observation," said Rose.

"Er," replied the redhead. "Can I join you?"

"Sure," said Rose. "It's a free country." The kid stared at her after she said that. Was the phrase 'it's a free country' too specific to American culture? Or was it just that this boy in front of her, who seemed like he was raised in wizarding culture, had never heard it before? What did it mean, for freedom to not be recognized so inherently as a cultural value that the phrase 'it's a free country' wasn't spoken as a general affirmation? Or perhaps it went the other way around? That American liberties slowly being stripped away led to people needing to constantly reaffirm their own freedom to themselves and others?

"You're Rose Potter, aren't you?" said the kid, and then Rose realized that she was definitely overthinking things and this kid was eleven and she had forgotten she was apparently a celebrity.

"Yes, I am," said Rose. "What gave it away?"

"Your scar," he said. "It's famous. Everyone knows it."

"Which one?" asked Rose.

"Uh," said the redhead. "It's the one on your forehead. The lightning bolt one. Everyone knows about it."

Ah. Rose hadn't given much thought to it since she became conscious of herself again. Since it was new, and distinctive, she thought it represented the crack in universes created by The Tumor, or something of the sort. Apparently it had cultural value in the Wizarding World.

Rose self-consciously adjusted her headband.

"That's where... You-Know-Who did it, right?" asked the boy.

"I know what?" asked Rose. They both floundered for a moment before Rose said, "I'm sorry, I feel lost. I don't even know your name."

"Oh," he said. "I'm Ron Weasley. Sorry, that was rude of me."

"No, you're fine. We somehow skipped introductions once you recognized my famous patch of skin."

Ron opened his mouth, then closed it, then crossed his arms.

"Weasley, it looks like whatever you were about to say, you really wanted to say it. Just go ahead and ask."

Ron took a deep breath, and started over. "I'm really sorry if this is rude, but why is your skin so white?"

"I was born that way," said Rose, having given this explanation over and over during primary school. "Medically speaking it's not albinism or anything, if you're wondering. This is my natural skin tone. Most of my friends when I was growing up have the same coloration."

"Huh," said Ron. He sat and pondered this new information.

"Do you know Dirk Strider?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes, actually," asked Rose, caught off-guard. "Why, do you know him?"

"Through my brothers," said Ron. "But he's the only other person I've heard of who looks like you, and you said you knew people who look like you, so I-"

"Connected the dots. I get it," said Rose. "I'm not going to comment about the implications of you assuming that everyone who looks the same knows each other, but as a matter of fact we are actually related."

"Oh, huh," said Ron. "Didn't know he was related to the Potters."

"He isn't," said Rose, and Ron seemed to shrink into himself. Rose looked at the boy. She vaguely remembered seeing him alongside a huge family of other redheads, which could, simply through logistics, lead to him having faced some parental neglect, manifesting itself now as awkward conversational skills.

That was something she, and pretty much every friend she'd ever had, could empathize dearly with, in both lives.

"Hey, Ron, I'm sorry," began Rose. "You were just asking questions. Why don't we start over? Hello, I'm Rose Lal..." she stopped. "Potter. I'm Rose Potter."

Ron brightened a bit. "I'm Ron Weasley. Oh! I forgot!" Ron reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a brown, haggard-looking rat.

"This is Scabbers," said Ron. "Mum told me everyone loves pets, so I'm introducing you to him now. Say hello, Scabbers!"

The rat looked caught between half-asleep and half-dead and as such did not visibly react.

"If we end up in the same dorm, you should keep him away from me," said Rose. "I just purchased a cat."

"Ooh, good point," said Ron. "He probably smells the cat on you, that's why he's pretending to be asleep. But you don't need to be afraid of Rose Potter, do you, Scabbers?"

Scabbers seemed to crawl into himself as much as he could without waking up from his apparent nap.

"You can put him away," said Rose. "But thank you for the introduction, Ron."

Ron beamed at her. Rose purchased some whimsical snacks from the Trolley. After Ron had explained to her what, exactly, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans were, Rose became convinced Dirk had given an alchemiter to Bertie Bott, as well. That then led to counter-speculation on Ron's end as to how, exactly Bertie Bott created his Every Flavor Beans (a randomizer spell hooked up to the Ancestral Bott Kitchen was his guess, which led Rose to ask why Bertie Bott would have a stock of boogers, where Ron replied that he reckoned that George was just having him on regarding the Booger Bean, which then led to Ron explaining his family dynamic in a little bit more detail, as Rose nodded along sadly. Eventually she had begun taking notes, drawing an elaborate tree, criss-crossed with emotional branches from each Weasley. One day, swore Rose, she would get to the bottom of Ron's insecurities).

At one point a boy had come in, looking for his toad, but due to Rose and Ron both being unaware of the location of the animal, he left shortly after. The mention of the toad made Rose think of Jade, which saddened her, because after all they went through, she still never actually met the girl in person.

"Do you think we should have gone after him?" asked Rose.

"Huh? No, I know Neville. He'll be alright, his toad disappears all the time. I think magic pets might be better at not getting lost than normal animals."

Rose nodded along. In her own observations, her new cat Jaspers II seemed remarkably loyal. Maybe this time he wouldn't turn up mysteriously dead. And on the morbidly bright side, if he did, Rose had already worked through the associated trauma once before, so she could follow the same patterns of grief. She wasn't sure how to get Roxy over from the States to attend the necessary cat funeral if that event did occur, but her pseudo-mother would find a way.

The boy, Neville, came back, accompanied now by a girl. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said.

"He's been here already," said Rose. "Despite the kind of relief I'm sure it would bring, merely for the end to the uncertainty, the toad has not mysteriously reappeared in our cabin, living or otherwise."

"Oh, that's a shame," said Hermione. "I'd hoped to help Neville with his toad, he just looked like he really needed help, so I decided to brave the train and look for him, but I didn't think about where he'd already been. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

"Ron Weasley," said Ron Weasley.

"Rose Potter," said Rose Lalonde.

"You're Rose Potter?" Hermione goggled. "I've read so much about you, of course-you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, but they didn't have any pictures of you at all, all I knew about was the scar..."

"Am I going to get this a lot?" Rose asked Ron.

"I mean, you did save the world as a baby," he replied, sheepishly.

"People keep saying that to me, but I still don't have the full scope of it. Who, exactly, did I save the world from? Lord English?"

"Uh, no, different Dark Lord," said Neville, who Rose had honestly forgotten was there. "I mean, I don't know who that is, but, yeah. You-Know-Who."

This, thought Rose, was one of the moments where having her Seer powers back would be great. Because she did not, in fact, know who, and for whatever reason, she could not just simply know who. Her only option left was to either content herself with not knowing, or-

"This is rude of me, but I have no idea what you're talking about," she said.

"Oh," said Hermione. "I mean, I suppose that makes sense. I had heard you grew up around Muggles-that's the term for people without magic-but I didn't realize that you also were sheltered from the rest of the Wizarding World, too. Tell you what, I'll lend you Modern Magical History once we get to school, since my bags are a bit too precariously packed away right now to access easily."

"Thank you, Hermione," said Rose, smiling at the girl. "I appreciate that."

Hermione beamed, then grabbed Neville by the hand and left the compartment. Rose could hear her asking the next compartment over about Neville's toad.

"Blimey," said Ron, once they were alone again. "You're not... I mean, they never told you about the war? Or anything?"

"I spent most of my days with my 'Muggle' relatives in my youth. As far as I know, they were as unaware of the war as I was."

"Blimey," repeated Ron. "I just met Rose Potter, and I feel like I know more about Rose Potter than Rose Potter does."

"I like to think I have untold depths," said Rose, mildly insulted.

The compartment opened again. This time, it was a blond boy, with skin that would be pale by anyone's standards but Rose's. He was flanked by two boys that Rose could only think of as 'Imps 1 and 2.'

"Is it true?" said the boy. "I heard that Rose Potter herself is in this compartment."

"I heard that too," said Rose. "And I'm slowly starting to believe it."

The boy looked directly at her for the first time, but Rose got the feeling he wasn't making eye contact. Rather, looking slightly above her eyes, at that scar. Again.

"My lady Potter," he said, and Rose raised an eyebrow. "On behalf of the Malfoy family, I would like to cordially invite you to join my fellows in our train compartment. I am sure we could discuss many things."

"I'm sure," said Rose. What the hell?

"If you could, um, follow me, oh, these are Crabbe and Goyle, by the way, forgot to mention, and leave the Weasley boy behind, we could have a discussion, about higher society, and, oh, blast. I got nervous," said the boy, presumably Malfoy. He slumped, his expression becoming downcast. "My name is Draco Malfoy and I completely forgot to introduce myself first. I'm sorry. Mother always told me talking to unfamiliar girls would be hard but I didn't expect it to be this hard."

"Um," said Rose. "Hello, Draco. Would you like to sit down, so we can emotionally process all of what you just said?"

Instantly, Draco popped into what seemed like a better rehearsed pose. "With a Weasley? Never. Potter, you'll find that some families are better to associate with others. I'm willing to offer you support in navigating this very treacherous landscape. What do you say?" He held out his hand.

"I think I'm doing alright as-is," said Rose. "I've got navigational support already. But the offer is appreciated."

Draco sneered. "What, Weasley? Potter, I'm beginning to think you're in desperate need of my assistance. Boys, let's teach Potter who she should and should not choose as a cabin-mate." Draco waved Crabbe and Goyle further into the cabin.

Rose, as point of fact, was referring mostly to Dirk when she said 'navigational support,' but she was standing up halfway through the word "Boys." Her strife specibus was equipped by the word "Potter," and her needlewands were out from her strife deck and into her hands by the word "choose."

"I thought," she said, "that I said I was doing alright with the navigational support I have. Don't go making threats you can't back up, Malfoy."

"Two wands..." muttered Goyle.

"They look pointier than most I've seen, too," whispered Crabbe.

"You'll get yours, Potter," said Malfoy. "And you better pray you don't end up in Slytherin."

They all walked out, and Crabbe slammed the door.

"Well, maybe I will end up in Slytherin, huh!" yelled Rose, to nobody in particular. "Maybe I'll do whatever the hell a Slytherin is just to piss you off! Do you like that? Because I don't think you do!"

"What are you on about now?" said Hermione Granger, who was passing the compartment. Again.

"Ugh," said Rose. "Nothing important. Apparently I'm enough of a celebrity to warrant visits by assholes."

"Do you have two wands in your hands?" asked Hermione.

"Ugh," said Rose again, and she returned her needlewands to her strife deck. "That could have gone really bad if they decided to try and fight back."

"What, for you?" asked Ron. "You have two bloody wands! You could probably duel Dumbledore with two wands!"

"No," said Rose. "For them."

"Oh."

The compartment was quiet again.

"Erm," said Hermione. "I was meaning to ask this anyhow, but do you want to come back to my compartment? It's just me and my brother, and if you're getting harassed by fans you might want to, well, basically hide with us."

"You know what, fine," said Rose. "You seem like you've got your head screwed on right enough. Ron, you coming with?"

"It'd end up being just me and Scabbers here, mate. I'm coming with."

As Rose and Ron followed Hermione out of the compartment, Rose trailing just behind the duo, she took the opportunity to finish the conversation she'd started just hours earlier.

TT: So I talked to the wizards some more.

TG: DISH

TT: It turns out that they've got a word for people like you, who aren't members of the wizarding world.

TT: You're a muggle, Roxy.

TG: ...

TG: Im a WOT

TG: no seriously that sounds vaguely racially charged?

TG: is there like. an alternative word that you didnt learn

TG: oh no rosie pls tell me you didnt fall in with magic discriminators :(

TG: ;_; plz

TT: No, as far as I can tell, I didn't fall in with people who will discriminate based on magicality.

TT: Besides, you're enough of a wizard fanatic to count as one of them in my eyes.

TG: ;o; you're so kind rose. not even joking that means a lot to me

"We're here," said Hermione, and Rose briefly glanced up before typing out a quick goodbye message.

TT: Sorry, I have to go again. But on the bright side, we found out my phone still works.

TT: God bless Pesterchum netcode.

TG: MAY IT REIGN FOR ALL DAYS o77777

Hermione opened the door. "I'd like you to meet Ron Weasley and Rose Potter," she told the kid inside, presumably her brother.

Rose pocketed her phone and actually looked inside the open door of the compartment.

Oh my gods.

"Ron, Rose, meet my brother, Dave!"

"I'm adopted," said Dave motherfucking Strider. "So that's the skin thing out of the way. Oh, hey Rose. Been a while."