My name is Laurel Weasley. I want to tell my story.
I was born to two Muggles (that is, non-magical people) in England. When I was two years old, my parents were killed in a tragic accident inside our own house. I'm not sure of the actions surrounding this accident, but I do know that it was deemed suspicious within the Wizarding world. (Keep in mind: this was only one year after Voldemort had tried to kill Harry Potter and failed.) The Ministry of Magic sent out a team of investigators to look into my parents' death when the investigators discovered me in the house. Lucky for me, one of the wizards assigned to this case was none other than Arthur Weasley. He was a wizard with a keen fascination for all things Muggle-related. When the question arose of what to do with me, he immediately offered to take me in. After all, he had six sons and no daughters. So I went to live with Arthur and Molly Weasley and their six boys; Charlie, Bill, Percy, Fred, George, and Ron. I was one year younger than Ron and was the only non-magical person in the house.
I had a happy childhood. My brothers and I were extremely close. My parents doted on me. I can not think of one single instance where I would consider myself "unhappy." The nearest time would be when Ron turned eleven, which meant that I would be the only one left at the house from September to May. After being so close with my brothers for so long, it was hard to imagine a life without them for almost the entire year. We spent all of our nights gathered around, sharing stories, and playing games. At this time, I realized that I was very different from the rest of my family.
I went to Platform 9 ¾ with the rest of my family to see the boys off for their school year. After that, it was mainly just Mum and me. Of course, it was lonely, but I accepted that it would be my life, living as a Muggle in the Wizarding World. The school year came and went, and over the school holiday, it was just like it had always been, with the addition of two more; my brother Ron had made two new friends during the school year that came to our house a lot over the summer. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.
They were both at our house when the following year's Hogwarts letters arrived. There were eight of them; Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Laurel. Wait, WHAT? LAUREL? Mum immediately flew off the handle at Fred and George, saying it was a cruel joke; how dare they! They knew how badly I wanted to be magical. Both of them swore that they had nothing to do with it. Mum contacted Dumbledore and explained the whole situation. He insisted that he had made no mistakes and that I was on the list, so I must have some sort of magical powers deep down. When Mum came home and said that it hadn't been a mistake, all of my family erupted into cheers. I was going to Hogwarts!
Now is where I'm going to skip forward a bit. You can read all about all of the events of the school years in Hermione's books. I'm going to move ahead to the finishing of my seventh and final year of Hogwarts.
After the Battle of Hogwarts, all of the seventh years who missed out got the opportunity to go back and finish their learning, so that means Ron, Hermione, Harry, and my best friend in the whole world, Neville graduated the same year that I did. You can't imagine how hard it was for all of us to have spent all seven of our school years fighting for our lives and then for it all to just be over. We were still mourning Fred, mourning what should have been the best years of our lives, and trying to find our way in the world at the same time. Then, finally, everyone went their separate ways for the first time in our lives.
Everyone except Neville and me. We are still the closest of friends. When we first came out on our own, we refused to split up. So what did we do? We got a job working together. We went to the Daily Prophet, a Wizarding newspaper. During our time at school, the Prophet was pretty much gossip and untrustworthy news. Since the firing of Rita Skeeter, the credibility had gone up a tad. And, after all, it was a job. I was a reporter, Neville was a photographer. It wasn't the best work in the world, but it allowed us to stay together, which we wanted.
We had been doing this job for over a year when we were invited to come to Hogwarts to do a story on the return of Hogwarts to its former glory following the Battle. When we arrived, we were instantly greeted by Headmistress McGonagall. She swooped upon us like a bird of prey.
"Mr. Longbottom, Ms. Weasley, it must be fate that it was you two sent to us today." She looked at us with tired eyes. "We are in desperate need of professors for the upcoming year at Hogwarts. In his wake, Dumbledore wanted any new openings for professors to be filled by former students, if at all possible."
Neville and I looked at each other, not knowing where she was going with this. She continued without a thought to spare for our confused looks. "Both of you had exemplary marks in school, and we have spots open for the both of you that I feel would be perfect. Mr. Longbottom, Herbology is one of the available subjects. If I remember correctly, you had a particular affinity for plants. Ms. Weasley, Defense Against the Dark Arts is the class I feel you would fit into like a puzzle piece. I don't want to pull you away from your, ahem," here she stole a glance at my notebook and Neville's camera, "reporting, but I do want to present this opportunity to you. Do let me know what your answer will be by owl within the upcoming weeks. Now, if you'll excuse me." With a flap of her robes, she was off, leaving the two of us standing with our mouths agape.
A job at Hogwarts! We couldn't believe it. This job would be a dream opportunity for both of us. We would be together, and we would be back at the only place either of us ever felt truly at home. We didn't even finish our story for the Prophet; we left and went back to the office as quickly as possible. We resigned, effective immediately, then went home to tell Mum the excellent news.