New

Danny's house is quite little. All of a sudden, I've gone from having my own room with plenty of space, to sharing the (much) smaller room with my brother, whilst my parents take the bigger room with the bigger bed. But I don't mind so much, not now. Because when I kneel beside the bed at night, and I stay for a long time, praying for my family and my life, Danny does not interrupt me. He lets me pray, and then he lets me do whatever. If I get into bed and turn away, he knows what I want is to be alone. If I get into bed and lie awake for hours, he'll talk to me softly. If I wake him up when I try so hard to be quiet when I cry in the dead of night, he'll always get out of bed and pray with me, or talk to me, or he'll just stroke my hair and let me cry on his shoulder.

The first chemo session was terrifying. I didn't have a clue what they were going to do. I hadn't dared look it up on the Internet. I was far, far too scared. I'd walked through the door of Outpatients - and very nearly turned around and walked back out. Only the steady pressure of my fathers hand in mine kept me upright and walking. We were directed to wait. A doctor would be out soon. I started shaking after about a minute of waiting.

"I can't do this," I whisper, looking around wildly. What was I looking for? An escape? Perhaps.

"Oh, sweetheart." My father said, helplessly. Oh, but that's the worst. He doesn't know how to comfort me. What do you say to your daughter when she is about to have a treatment that will change her? What do you say to her? A woman sits down next to us suddenly. She's wearing a bright bandana, and a very pretty dress. It kills me that she's bald under that bandana. I could die - I'm worrying about going bald.

"I'm guessing by your expression, honey, that this is your first time?"

"Yes," I whisper, trying to coax volume into my dry throat.

"Well, sweetie, don't you worry. Chemo doesn't mean you have to change. Having high-power drugs injected through a "port" doesn't mean you will stop being you."

"But - I - I'm afraid."

"What of?"

"I'm scared it's going to hurt." she glances at me, and kindly directs her gaze to my father.

"I'm Lizzie."

"Hello, Lizzie. I'm Hermione's father, John. Please, is there anything - can you - I don't know what to say." She nods understandingly.

"Hermione, look at me." I look up. My eyes glitter with tears I'm fighting to keep back. "It will be a little achy, nothing more. Besides, you Dad here can go in with you and hold your hand. And you'll maybe feel a little tired for a day or so. But it's nothing to be scared of. OK?" "I don't want to go in there."

"You have to, sweetie. It's for your life now."

In the end, she was right. I gripped Dad's hand, I never let go. It ached, and the dull ache doesn't go away until that night. But it doesn't hurt. I do my best to think about other things.

Like the school I'm starting today. Danny has laid out my new uniform. A skirt. A skirt. I don't really wear skirts all that often. Ah well. Time to get used to it, I suppose.

"So, um, jog my memory, Mums…what's this school called again?"

"Hogwarts Academy."

"Weird name."

"It used to be a big boys boarding school. The pupil's no longer board there and, obviously, it takes girls too."

"So, how am I getting there?"

"Well, we called the school - they'll send the school bus for you every morning. Your mother and I can take you if you'd feel more comfortable -"

"No, Dad, it's cool. I have to get to know them sometime, right? What better than the School Bus?"

I board it nervously. The driver smiles encouragingly at me.

"Sit anywhere, honey. Nobody has any seats reserved." I look around. If I sit at the back, it'll make me look like a bad-girl Attitude. If I sit at the front, I'll look childish. If I sit in the middle - I'll look like the new girl. I sit closer to the front than the back. The last stop picks up a big group. They've all got red hair apart from one boy, who's got raven hair and glasses. The tallest - apparently the oldest - slides in next to a girl who greets him enthusiastically. Oh, she has such a crush. His name is Percy. The identical twins sit beside each other, shoving and each wanting the window seat. Pretty soon they settle down, bending over a box in their laps. Their names are Fred and George, apparently. The only red head female glances around and the steers the remaining two towards me. They sit in front of me, and she smiles at me.

"Hey. You mind if I sit here?"

"No." I go back to staring out the window. I don't want to be rude, but I'm kind of nervous. The happy family thing makes me draw a painful parallel to what life was like before cancer.

"My name's Ginny. That's my brother Ron - and my boyfriend Harry."

"I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger."

"Oh, right, the new girl! McG said there'd be one. Hey, what year?"

"Oh - 12."

"Ron and Harry's year then. You need a tour guide? Lunch date? Escape route?" I laugh despite myself. It's impossible to stay nervous around her. She exudes confidence. I need a friend like her. She strikes me as being the type to never let somebody wallow.

"All three would be nice."

"Harry? Ron?"

"Hi," the dark haired boy says, turning to talk to me. "New kids have to go and see the Headmaster. Do you want us to take you?"

"Can you tell me about the school? Like, are lessons hard? Do you do sport?"

"Lessons are as hard as you make them. Depends if you know your stuff or not. Yes, we do sport. There's football, basketball, tennis, cricket, swimming, rugby - if that's your thing - and we do badminton."

"Harry is an awesome basketball player."

"Ginny, shut up," he mumbles, his ears turning red.

"Really? What position?"

"Centre. Do you play?"

"Not basketball, no. But I swim, I play tennis and I used to play football, in the dim and distant past. Oh my…is that your school?" The building looms above us, huge, old, yet inviting.

"You'll be fine. It's not as scary as it looks."