Author's Note: To everyone who's followed Verity's adventures, especially those of you who responded to it, I wanted to say the warmest thank you before this last chapter. Finally publishing this story felt like sharing a part of my growing-up with the world, and to get such a lovely reaction - well, I was going to say I wish my younger self could see it, but to be fair, she is me. So thank you again for welcoming Verity from my life into yours, and happy reading!
"Robin, don't poke that, it's—euurgh! Oliver, please let go of my leg—Freddie, we saw George this morning!" Verity groaned as she dragged her wild parade across platform nine and three-quarters. She was only thankful the steam billowing from the Hogwarts Express hid most of the people they wanted to talk to, or it would take them another hour.
"Lee!" Her oldest son had already disappeared onto the train, but she saw a flash of blond hair in one of the windows. "Lee George Weasley! Oh, for Merlin's sake, come back!" The boy disappeared from the window, and in a moment swung himself back off the steps.
"Come on, Mum!" he complained, but the fourteen-year-old still flashed dazzling smiles at everyone he recognized and ran his fingers through his already messy hair. "James says he's bringing a baby hippogriff to school for Hagrid, and he wants me to help him figure out how to smuggle it past ol' Filch."
Three years at Hogwarts, Lee was well on his way to taking over the position—once filled by his father, uncle, and namesake—of Troublemaker-in-Chief. In his first year alone, he'd got fourteen detentions from four teachers, sneaked into the Forbidden Forest at least twice, and made friends with Peeves—as well as whatever he hadn't been caught at.
"You think James has a hippogriff?" Fred asked, raising his eyebrows. "Might want to check on that. He takes after Uncle George."
Verity laughed. "Since Lee takes after his father, they're cut from the same cloth." She turned back to her son. "Do you have everything?" she asked.
"Trunk is in James's compartment, clothes and broom and potion stuff and...other stuff," he trailed off with a guilty glance at his mother, "in the trunk..."
"Please tell me you didn't forget Krum again," Verity said. It had taken four attempts to get her three children and Fred out the front door, and the last thing she wanted to do when she got home was owl Lee's cat to him. She'd never sent a cat by owl post before, and she doubted normal cats liked it, much less the hyperactive kitten fathered by the inimitable Crookshanks.
"He's in his basket. Ellie Finnigan's watching him," Lee continued. "She loves Krum, reckons he's adorable. I keep telling her he's not adorable when you wake up with a calico rear end on your face. Maybe I'll show her. I'd have to find a way around those stairs, but I could bribe one of the other girls to take him." He bit his lip.
"I want you to watch out for Robin."
Lee came crashing to earth. "Mum! It's a train! She can find her own way! Besides, she'll embarrass me in front of the boys."
Robin, who was starting her first year, stuck her tongue out at her brother. "I can find Rose on my own, Mum. I don't want to go with him anyways. He'll embarrass me in front of the girls." She tossed her fiery curls as Fred laughed.
Robin was their only daughter, and the child who inherited Fred's Quidditch talent. Last year a stray Bludger had knocked her front teeth crooked, of which she was immensely proud. Her goal was to be a Beater on her House team, whichever House that turned out to be.
"I'm grown up, Mum. I don't need a gross babysitter."
Lee paused a moment, unsure whether to focus on the insult or the fact he was now free. He chose the latter. "Thanks, Robbie Kate," he said, tugging her hair.
"Hey!" She whipped her new wand out of her jacket and jabbed it into her brother's chest.
"Woah, not so fast!" Fred snatched her wand away from her, ignoring her protests. "You use that wrong, you'll get it taken away."
"I never thought I'd hear a Weasley twin say that," Verity giggled. "Are you sure you can go by yourself, Robin?"
"Lee can take me instead, Mum," said Oliver, who clutched Verity's hand and looked up at her with a sweet smile. He was seven and a little shy, and he charmed everyone he met. She suspected he might be the Slytherin in the family, for all the right reasons. She bent and kissed him.
"Not yet, Mr. Oliver. But don't worry, you'll be off before you know it."
Oliver was already on another train of thought. "Mummy, what's a blood traitor?" he asked, turning his head upside-down to read the words that still faintly scarred the back of Verity's hand.
She paused. "There used to be bad people," she said carefully, "who thought we shouldn't like Muggles, and they called people who did like them blood traitors."
"Grandpa Weasley likes Muggles," he volunteered.
"Grandpa Weasley loves Muggles," Fred corrected with a grin. "Haven't I told you about his flying car, and the time Uncle George and Uncle Ron and I flew it to Uncle Harry's in the middle of the night and rescued him?"
Oliver had heard the story a million times, but he beamed as though it was entirely new. "Tell me again, Daddy," he clamored. Fred began the story again, but his voice was drowned out by the train's whistle.
"Oh my goodness." Verity realized it was almost eleven. "Fine, go, but if I get any owls from school..."
"What makes you think you'd get those?" Verity rolled her eyes, recalling the stack they were using to prop up the wireless. He gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before vanishing inside the train.
"Bye, Robin," she said, hugging her daughter. "We'll write. Say hello to Professor Longbottom for your father."
"And Peeves," Fred added.
Verity shot him a look, but said, "Fine, and Peeves. But if he's carrying anything be careful. No getting your brother to steal you a broom from the broomshed; you've been practicing all summer. Don't borrow his, either. And don't forget—" Robin had already dashed onto the train, which was starting to move. She hung out the window and waved until the Hogwarts Express disappeared from the platform in a whirl of steam. Verity sighed. "Oh, Freddie. Robin is going."
She remembered her first trip on the Hogwarts Express, standing alone and watching the people around her say goodbye to their families, looking out the train window and knowing the whispering on the other side of the car was about her. How different it was for her daughter, who had friends and family to sit by and a brother to take care of her and no one yet who didn't like her.
"I know," he said as they turned to leave. "Last week she was three years old and getting lost in the shop."
She tried to cheer up. "And we found her with the Pygmy Puffs in a barrel."
Fred rested his chin on the top of her head. "She'll be home for the holidays," he said bracingly. "She's not gone forever." He saw through her brave smile; of course he did, no one knew her better. He hoisted Oliver onto his back and put his arm around Verity's shoulders. "Oliver, have I told you about the time Uncle George and I escaped from mean ol' Professor Umbridge?" he said.
"The evil pink toad lady?" Oliver asked excitedly.
"That's the one. See, one day Uncle Harry needed a distraction…"