A week later, Lydia was standing in front of their fireplace with the bags she'd packed with her parents.
"Did you give the key to the new family?" Ron asked his wife, meaning the family that was moving in.
"Yes, dear. We're all ready."
"What does our fireplace have to do with our transportation? It's kind of stupid to have a fire when it's already really warm. I'm hot." Lydia was still assuming a cold edge when she addressed her parents. She felt rather stupid just standing there. She also felt very bitter. In the last week, she'd called up all her friends to say goodbye and giving excuses for why she was going. Tempted as she was to just say casually, "Oh, yeah, I'm a witch and I'm moving to England to go to a magic school," she knew she couldn't. They were going to stay with Ron's family until they secured a house.
"Floo, dear?" Marie asked her husband, proffering a small Ziploc bag filled with green powder.
"Of course," he replied, taking out a pinch. He tossed it into the flames, which suddenly roared up high and turned—green.
Her father stepped forward, and, to Lydia's amounting shock, into the flames. She nearly screamed.
"The Burrow!" Ron said loudly, and with a whoosh, he was gone.
"Oh my god!" Lydia screamed. "What happened?"
"It's all right, dear. He's been transported to your grandparents' house. Now, hurry up and go. I'll follow."
Gulping and shaking, Lydia dipped her hand into the bag and threw the powder into the flames. She stepped in. It felt warm and breezy.
"The Burrow!" she cried. Suddenly a force took ahold of her that she could not escape. It felt like she was being pulled down, down...farther and farther... The green flames spun sickeningly around her, and she closed her eyes, feeling nauseous. Her head spun, more intensely than it did during a ride at the amusement parks she'd gone to. She squeezed her eyes shut with discomfort; then suddenly she felt herself flying forward – and into someone's arms.
For a few moments she just stayed completely still, ill feelings fading. Then slowly she opened her eyes.
For a moment she thought she had been transported to the wrong house. After a moment of staring into the grayest eyes she'd ever seen, she allowed her eyes to take in short, thick, wavy, nearly black hair, dark, even eyebrows, a strong nose and soft lips. Then the person released her and helped her stand, holding her hand. She stared, then felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Lyddie, dear! My, you've grown!" her grandmother cried with joy. "Give your old grandma a hug."
Molly Weasley, a plump, gray-haired woman with a jolly face, gave Lydia a huge hug. "Lyddie, dear, this is Daniel. He lives next door, and he's been helping me and your grandfather out with a few things us old folks can't manage." She winked.
"Nice to meet you," Daniel said in a voice that had obviously gone through the whole voice-changing stage. It was deep and smooth, and, like her father and grandparents, carried a British accent.
"Lydia, you got through okay?" Ron asked her. She nodded as, behind her, something large hit the back of her legs.
Daniel yanked her by the waist away from the fireplace suddenly as several suitcases and boxes appeared out of the fire. He looked down at her (as he was a good half-foot taller than her) and grinned. Somewhere inside her, something melted...
"Well!" Marie said, hands on her hips as she stepped out of the fireplace, wand in hand. "I thought we'd said no boyfriends!"
Everybody laughed – except Marie and Lydia. Marie's lips were slightly tight, like they got when she thought no one was taking her seriously. Lydia was just plain embarrassed.
"Oh, now, Marie, it's so good to see you again!" Lydia's grandmother said, approaching the woman and hugging her.
Daniel released Lydia for the second time as more family greetings were passed along. "So you're Molly's granddaughter," he said. "I've heard a lot about you." He started walking towards the back door, and Lydia followed.
"Oh, goodness," she said. "I hope she didn't tell you too much. She didn't tell you about the rose incident, did she?" Daniel opened the door, and she slipped outside.
"No," he said, laughing. "What was that about?"
After further pressing, Lydia finally said, "All right, I'll tell you. I was about six or so, and I was being really hyper, so Grandpa sent me to play outside. See, Grandma has always prided herself on her roses. You've probably seen them outside, in front."
"Yes, I've pruned them a few times," he said. "They are quite nice."
"She never let me near them," Lydia said, snorting slightly. "Anyway, so I was outside and I saw her bushes and picked some of the roses. Grandma's so pickety that she counts the roses, like she's afraid Uncle Fred or Uncle George would curse them off, so that evening she was outside and suddenly we heard a shriek. It scared everyone so bad; they thought she was having a heart attack or something! We rushed outside, and Grandma was turning as red as her roses.
"'Arthur Weasley!' she screamed. 'Where are my roses?' Grandpa had turned so white when he heard her shriek that we thought he might follow her example and drop dead, but when he saw she was only worked up about her 'silly plants', as he calls them, he just stared for about a minute while Grandma glared. Then he started to snigger, then he laughed out loud! I have to say, Grandma was a funny sight. Her hair was frizzy and she had fixed the evil eye on us all, which looks pretty silly on her face, it being so friendly and all. Soon we were all laughing, except for me, who ran inside and came back out with the roses and said solemnly, 'Here's your roses, Gammy.' You should have seen her face just then; it was hilarious."
Daniel, laughing, asked, "Did you get in trouble?"
"Luckily, no. I think I was too young for Grandma to really get angry at me."
Just then, someone called, "Lydia! Daniel!"
They went back inside, and down the stairs came Arthur Weasley, Lydia's grandfather, who excitedly came up to Lydia and exclaimed, "Lydia! How's life in the Muggle world been going for you?"
"Just fine, Grandpa," Lydia said patiently. She knew her grandfather was intensely interested in the Muggle world.
Her grandfather smiled. His hair was nearly all gone now, and the previously bright red was overcome by gray. Friendly wrinkles played around his eyes, mouth and forehead. When Lydia was young, she used to ask her grandfather to crease his forehead so she could feel the bumps. Now, suddenly she felt the childish urge sweep over her again, but she restrained herself, knowing it was silly and still somehow desiring to posses the freedom of a young one...
"It's so wonderful you're going to Hogwarts," her grandmother was saying. "I was worried your parents would send you to some school in America...and I've never heard of a school as good as Hogwarts!"
"I think I might have just kept homeschooling," Lydia said. Molly frowned, and Lydia realized her grandmother had wanted her to go to a magic school and would have disapproved of her parents' decision if they'd continued her non-magic education, so she added, "Only since I've got magic...they wouldn't have." Lydia still felt upset that her parents were forcing her to leave her old life to one where they mainly depended on magic. Magic. A word commonly used in fairy tales and fantasy stories... Oh, yes, she'd seen plenty of magic, with her parents both having supple skills, but she'd mostly ignored it and pretended it didn't exist. It seemed strange and alien, and if her friends found out, they'd think her family was psycho. Except for Lauren Lovegood, one girl who was strangely absentminded and had been in Lydia's old art class. Once she'd drawn a picture of a giant castle that looked so real Lydia could almost touch the cold walls through the paper. Lauren was always spacing out and reading a magazine called The Quibbler that her parents ran. Lauren's mom was strange too, and Lauren looked almost exactly like her mother, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. Only she wasn't really attractive, but she wasn't plain either. Lauren had mysteriously left the class however, with only a simple note from her parents saying that they were no longer in the area. The funny thing was, Lydia's father seemed to recognize the name "Lovegood" when Lydia mentioned it once. Lydia shook her head from the memories and returned to the chatter.
"So, Daniel, you're starting Hogwarts this year as well?" Lydia's father asked.
"Yes. I'm a second year though, since I'm nearly fifteen and I started last year. It's really quite a nice place, compared to the schools I used to go to."
"Is it hard?" Lydia found herself asking.
"Not really. You just have to keep up with your work."
"And what time do we come home?"
Daniel shook his head. "You don't during the school year. You stay at the school overnight."
"Like a boarding school?" Lydia nearly yelped.
"It's not so bad," Daniel told her, but Lydia felt like her parents were sending her away. She bit her lip and lowered her head, hiding the sudden wetness in her eyes. Don't cry in front of everyone, she told herself firmly, and tried to subtly wipe her eyes. Her grandparents were chatting with her mom and dad, and Daniel sort of stared over her father's head.
"Well, I'd best be going," Daniel said. "Maybe we can go to Diagon Alley together, Lydia."
She raised her head and attempted a smile. "Yeah, that'd be great," she said, wondering what on earth Diagon Alley was.
"See you," he said, then he left. Lydia was embarrassed for so obviously making him leave because of her tears, and she told her parents she was tired and went to the guest bedroom as her mom told her. She lay down and sighed, allowing her thoughts to swirl around her.
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Thanks gwenyth-rose and Kogina for the reviews!! Yes, gwenyth-rose, I actually was considering the name "Harry Potter: The Next Generation" (kind of like Star Trek, eh?) and I may change it. Lydia is not going to meet HP and HG's kids... you'll see why in upcoming chapters. SPOILER (well, sorta): Harry and Hermione are both at Hogwarts. Just wait... Now, if you'd be so kind, review review review! Thanks!