Fifteen year old Bonnie Hargrave was asleep in the sunshine on the warmest day of the summer, surrounded by letters and with a medium sized black-and-white cat perched on her stomach. Some schoolbooks lay open beside her, pages ruffling in the warm breeze.
"Bonnie!"
She blinked her way to wakefulness, squinting into the sunlight and trying to figure out who had called her.
It didn't take long. Within moments, Milton had flown and she was towed to her feet by her older brother, Alan.
"Ow! Alan, what the..."
"We're going to Diagon Alley."
"What? But Mum already got the books, what..."
Alan shrugged.
"Said something about you needing new robes and having totally forgotten. She's caving and bringing all of us, even Poppy. And Ger's going to meet us there."
Gerard, now nineteen, had been working for the Ministry since his graduation from Hogwarts, in the International Magical Office of Law. He'd been quite successful, too, or so he would have them believe. Bonnie didn't ask too many questions when it came to Ger's job - it made her eyes glaze over to listen to him.

She gathered the papers together, tucking them back into their envelopes - a letter from Tonks about Auror life, and summer letters from Cedric and the rest. There was still one she hadn't opened, written in emerald green ink in a cramped, spiky hand. This one she tucked in the back pocket of her shorts before pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

At fifteen, Bonnie looked, more than ever, like a lighter-haired version of her mother. She was petite and slender, almost compact in appearance with the look of a teenage girl who cared about her appearance but liked to pretend she didn't.
And who did, indeed, sometimes forget that she did.
Her hair had grown long and was, much to her brother's delight, was the color of a peeled banana. Which he, of course, liked to point out with such delightful nicknames as "Banana Head". She had a fringe that fell across her forehead, and which was often hastily brushed to one side.

"Bonnie!"
Alan had made it to the garden gate before she could deposit her books inside the back door, and was impatiently waiting there for her.
"Hold on a moment, I'm coming," she called back as she set her books and letters on the table by the back door. After she called good-bye to her father in his study, she dashed back outside and through the gate, catching up with Alan. They'd be driving to London which, thankfully, was not too long a drive. Poppy grinned as she caught sight of her sister. She was eight years old, now, and looked the female version of Ger. But it was Alan she seemed to mimic in mannerisms.

Madam Malkin's was, as always, mind-numbingly boring. Bonnie fought to stand still as the little witch bobbed here and there, sticking pins into the sleeves and hem of Bonnie's robes. When Bonnie felt like a porcupine, Madam Malkin finally declared herself finished. Clarisse, already looking tired, set her two older children loose.
"Meet us at Fortescue's at four o'clock," she told them, taking Poppy by the hand. "Ger should be there by then. And be good."
"Of course, mum," Alan said. He kissed her cheek and took off like a shot, disappearing into the crowds within moments.
"Probably off to find Alicia Spinnet," Bonnie said, and rolled her eyes. Clarisse merely smiled.
"All the more reason for him to be good," she said, and kissed the top of Bonnie's head. "Off you go, now. Have fun."

Bonnie found herself in the Potions supply store, looking over ingredients with a critical eye. Most of them were overpriced, and she wondered if she could convince the owner to lower it.
"Bonnie Hargrave?"

The voice was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. It was male, but not Cedric or any of her other friends. This voice was darker. Smoother, in a way. More musical, as if the speaker had thought of every word and cadence before he spoke.
When she turned around, it was to Ian Rosier's brandy-colored eyes.
"Ian?"
He smiled. A crooked, hesitant smile.
"Haven't spoken with you in a while," he said.
"Not since first year, I know!" She smiled in return. Compared to his glimmer of a smile, hers was a full-on sunburst. "It's good to see you."
He looked startled, as if he didn't quite believe her.
"It's good to see you too, Bonnie. Are you looking forward to Hogwarts?"
"Of course! I'm so excited, I just can't wait to go back...oh, and I made Prefect!"
Though his smile did not reappear he seemed pleased, if distantly.
"Good," he said. "I'm glad.

She had never known a more awkward silence. Then:
"I was hoping we could see more of each other, this year," he said. "I didn't know you very well, but I think you were the best friend I had at Hogwarts."
She wondered if this loneliness was self imposed - with a name like Rosier, she was sure he could have found friends among certain crowds of Slytherins quite easily.
"Not that I don't have any," he said, as if he had read her mind. "It's just...we're all too much the same. I miss sunny little Bonnie Hargrave."
She turned pink. She could feel it in her cheeks.
"Of course we can be friends," she said finally, smiling up at him (when had he grown so tall...?). "As I recall, you were the one who stopped coming to the library, first year."
"Yes," he said, and smiled sadly. "I was different, then."
"As was I," Bonnie said, as she gathered what ingredients she could. Haggling, she decided, wasn't worth the effort.
"I'd noticed," Ian said. "You're brighter now. Happier, I daresay. More confident."
"You noticed all of that?"
"Like I said," Ian responded, catching her gaze, "I missed sunny little Bonnie Hargrave. As beautiful as stars are, ones does get tired of the dark."

Her purchases wrapped and in her grasp, Bonnie turned to him with amusement.
:What is that supposed to mean?" she asked.
Ian shrugged. As always, he was impeccably dressed, from his perfectly-fitted shirt to his shiny black shoes. He put his hands in his pockets and walked with her to the front of the store. Beside him, Bonnie felt small and young - a strange feeling, considering that they were the same age. In her denim shorts and loose white peasant-shirt, her simple sandals...it was hard not to feel that way.
"I'd better go," he said finally. "My aunt will be looking for me. Will you sit with me on the Hogwarts Express, Bonnie? Same compartment as first year."
Bonnie looked at him for a long time, trying to put the pieces of him that she knew together. When she realized she couldn't, not yet, she was intrigued.
"Sure," she replied slowly. "I'd like that."
"So would I."
To her surprise he took her hand, bowed over it, and kissed it.
"Good-day, Miss. Hargrave."
Was this a joke? She wondered, watching him walk away down Diagon Alley. He didn't once turn back. Who was this? And why did he seem to think he was some country gentleman out of a novel? Bonnie shook her head, glanced at her watch, and took off down the street. Her simple, happy, light family would be waiting for her with strawberry ice cream. She could forget Ian Rosier and his warm, brandy-colored eyes. At least until September First.