As tired as she was, Rook found herself unable to fall asleep once she had crawled into her bed. She had barely gotten through her first day at Hogwarts, and already she had a crush. It wouldn't be surprising, except… she had never really had a crush on anyone before. Sure, she recalled having a certain fondness for a cartoon jester when she was a kid, but… well, obviously this was different.

Rook turned over on her side and stared at the inside of the hangings of her four poster. She never thought it would take so little for it to happen. Perhaps it was just sleep deprivation that was making her lightheaded around him. Perhaps tomorrow she would be cured of this affliction.

With that thought, Rook was able to drift off to sleep, but sleep did not grant her any relief. George paid her a visit in her dreams, in all his red-haired, freckled glory. Without her waking inhibitions, Rook allowed herself to stare into George's brown eyes, and did not pull away as he leaned in to kiss her…

Rook would have had enough to worry about had the dream ended there, but it did not. Suddenly, George had closed his hands around Rook's throat, but he was not George any longer. His hair was now blonde and his eyes green and narrowed with sadistic pleasure. The screaming Rook had heard when the dementors had boarded the Hogwarts Express returned, only this time the screams were coming from Rook herself.

Rook woke in a cold sweat and with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had thought—she had been sure—that the screaming she had heard on the train had been echoes of her time with a former foster mother… but she was wrong. Rook had never seen the blonde man before. At least not since she had been abandoned at the shelter.

The screaming woman was from her forgotten past—and so was he.

Rook had trouble falling asleep again. Her mind was reeling. The more she thought about the nightmare, the more she questioned herself. Could it really be a memory? Could that man be real? Was he her birth father? The screaming woman, was she… was she Rook's birth mother? Or was Rook only seeing what she wanted to see? And if she was, why would she want to see that?

By the time Rook made her way to the common room, she was in a dismal state. She sat by the fire, distracting herself with her Arithmancy homework until students began passing through on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Hoping to avoid Fred and George, Rook gathered her things and made her way to the Great Hall alone. She was not looking forward to breakfast. She was so tired and emotionally drained, and all she wanted was to get through the day. She wasn't in the mood for the twins' banter or for the Slytherins' torment.

"Good morning, Rook!" Fred greeted her cheerfully as he and George took their seats on either side of her at the Gryffindor table. Rook stared determinedly down at her eggs, suddenly preoccupied with the first half of her dream as George reached past her for something on the table.

"Are you all right, Rook?" George asked as he poured himself a drink. "You don't look so good."

Rook blushed and did not look up. "I'm fine," she replied curtly.

"Are you sure?" asked Fred. "'Cause if you're feeling short of one-hundred percent, we have something for you that just might perk you up,"

In her periphery, Rook saw George nudge a blue mug toward her. She knew before she even picked it up that it contained the only known cure for her anguish.

"Well, bake me pie and call me Dale Cooper!" Rook exclaimed joyfully. She held the hot mug under her nose and savored the rich aroma.

"You're not just going to smell it, are you?" Fred badgered Rook impatiently.

Rook looked at Fred and George. "Did you…. Did the two of you get this for me?"

"Nah, we got it for our brother's rat."

"Scabber's has got a real taste for this stuff."

Rook held the mug in front of her, but didn't partake. She was suddenly overcome with emotion. She fought back tears, but to no avail.

"I-I can't believe y'all did this f-for me," she sobbed.

"It's really not a big deal," George assured Rook uncertainly.

"Er… You're going to get tears in your coffee, Rook," Fred commented, utterly baffled by Rook's reaction.

"What did the you do this time?" Angelina demanded as arrived at the Gryffindor table.

"Hey, I was being nice, for once!" Fred protested. "Rook, tell her!"

Rook nodded in confirmation, but Angelina still looked suspicious. Rook was now cradling the mug in two hands and drinking from it with a meek expression. She didn't dare say more, afraid she might start crying again. As Fred and Angelina continued to banter, Rook noticed George still looked concerned.

"Thank you, for this," Rook said, "And I'm sorry about crying, I just…". She trailed off, unsure how to explain herself.

George smiled kindly. "You don't need to be sorry, and you don't have to explain."

"I just…" Rook spoke tentatively. "I've never had school friends before. I really didn't think I would have anyone looking out for me here."

George looked at Rook fondly. "The muggles at your old schools are daft. I liked you from the start."

"I… I haven't told you everything about me…"

"I knew it!" Fred interjected rudely. "You're an international spy! George, don't tell her anything else—she's working for the Communists!"

"Oh, don't worry. The Communists don't care about your secrets." Rook retorted without missing a beat and took another sip of her coffee. "Unrelated, but is there anything you can tell me about Dumbledore's sleeping habits?"

Rook had started the day wanting to avoid Fred and George, but they continually exceeded her every expectation. She quickly discovered that the only predictable thing about them was that they were predictably enjoyable company, and as the next few days went by, Rook wondered how she had been lucky enough to befriend them.

What was even more perplexing about it was that Fred and George were popular. Rook had never experienced being friends with someone who could be friends with virtually anyone they chose, and, in some ways, this plagued Rook. After all, she was always the weird kid. Apart from being the foster child who was always wearing hand-me-downs and didn't get to shower regularly, she was also the kid who had a collection of dead roaches. She was the kid who had a compulsive need to lick rocks that looked dusty. She was the kid who was occasionally so convinced that there was a room of men with malicious intentions monitoring her through her own eyes that she wrote decoy diary entries and went out of her way to avoid mirrors. She was the kid who talked to numbers because, for a time, they were the only friends she had.

Despite all this, however, Fred and George possessed an uncanny ability to take it all in stride, and she found that they were not without their own peculiarities. Many of these came from their being so close and seeming to be able to communicate almost telepathically, and they shared so many inside jokes that when they did feel the need to speak, it seemed like they had their own absurd language.

One particular thing Rook, Fred and George had in common was their profound fondness for their families. Fred and George expressed their familial affection by telling Rook humorous stories about their siblings and parents, and by teasing their brothers and sister at Hogwarts whenever they got the chance. Ron and Percy were not very appreciative of these expressions of endearment. Only Ginny Weasley seemed on par with the twins when it came to puckish riffing, though she seemed to lose her confidence whenever Ron's best friend Harry was around.

Rook found herself sympathizing with Ginny's plight more than she'd care to admit. Since Rook's amorous dream about George, Rook's feelings for him had only intensified. Were she an ordinary schoolgirl, or even an ordinary witch, she could just surrender to her feelings, but she was not ordinary, and she had not journeyed across the Atlantic to flirt with a cute boy. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted from her mission. Still, no matter how well-rested Rook was, she continued to experience light-headedness whenever George smiled at her in a certain way, and Rook's only appeasement was that she had not yet been at Hogwarts an entire week. She quelled her concerns by assuring herself that these dizzying emotions would settle down once she had adapted to her new school life.

She had no way of knowing just how wrong she was.