After a relatively calm Charms class—in which Fred, George, and Lee managed to cause a major disturbance only once in the form of practicing the lumos spell all at once and nearly blinding the students and Professor Flitwick, and, amazingly, got off with only a warning—the four of them made their way down to the Great Hall for dinner, and for the first ten minutes after she'd finished eating, while the boys were engrossed with conversation with Bill and Charlie, Ever found herself staring at the twins.
She'd only known them a day, and they were so identical that even their family couldn't tell them apart...but it bothered her that she couldn't. They may look alike and act alike but they were completely different people...weren't they? Maybe their mother had performed some sort of spell when they were born and accidentally split her one baby into two. Ever didn't know if that was even possible, but she was going to consider it highly likely unless she could find proof otherwise. Everything about the boys, from the pattern of the freckles all across their nose and cheeks to their voices were exactly the same, and she was finding it hopeless to notice any difference...until she noticed the scar.
It was a tiny thing, really. One of the twins—he had assured her as they sat down that he was George, and she was inclined to believe him—had a very small scar on the back of his right hand. It was old and faded, but the little line on the knuckle of his middle finger was definitely there, and when she checked on Fred's hand, it definitely wasn't. It wasn't a foolproof method; there were definitely going to be times when Ever wouldn't be able to grab George's hand to check if the scar was there. Still, it was good enough for now, and she rejoiced in her little victory, wondering how the scar had gotten there. She didn't dare ask, because if George knew she'd noticed it, she suspected he would try to find ways to cover it up.
Before long, they were getting up and going to the common room, where the four of them shouted "bouncing bulbs" in unison—because it was fun to say, Fred explained, and they should together at every opportunity—and Ever excused herself to the dormitories to drop off her books. Angelina and Alicia weren't there yet, and she grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a tank top and slipped into the bathroom to shower. She made quick work of it—she wanted to get back to the boys and talk about everything that had happened today, and especially about the detention, she'd never gotten to ask about that—and it was only when she was standing in front of the sink, rinsing out her mouth after brusing her teeth, that she glanced up at the mirror. The first year was almost shocked to find that she looked exactly the same as she had before she'd boarded the train yesterday.
Sure, her hair was wet and darker from the water, but it was still the same brown hair that she'd always brushed through, that she picked up her brush to run through it then. The eyes in the glass were the exact same shade of green that they'd been yesterday, the day before, last week. Ever still had a button nose and a heart-shaped face and a little scar above her right eyebrow where she'd gotten two stitches after falling and hitting the edge of the coffee table when she was three years old. Her eyes wandered down to her body, sure it must have changed if her face hadn't, but no, the thin frame was still there, the just-beginning-to-develop breasts that she'd blushed furiously over just two months ago when her mum announced she'd be needing bras the next time they ran to the shop, the freckles on her shoulders...everything was exactly the same. Ever put her brush back on the counter and leaned forward, inspecting herself more closely, and out of nowhere her breath hitched and tears burned her eyes.
A month ago she'd been a regular eleven year old on holiday from school, and now she was in this huge castle with tons of people and she didn't even know where exactly Hogwarts was. She'd heard someone say it was in Scotland, and that was a long way from Cardiff, and her dad hadn't wanted to bring her to London to get here and, and—maybe she should have listened to him.
How do you even go about sending a letter home here?
Ever shoved the thought away. That was for another time, and she'd told the boys she'd be back down after she dropped off her things and cleaned up. They'd be waiting for her, wondering where she went, and she had no doubt that the three of them would come bursting in on her if she took too long for their liking. The girl slid on a pair of slippers and padded out of the dormitory just in time for the stairs to turn into a giant slide. Her scream died in her throat and quickly became laughter as she saw the three of them piled at the bottom of the staircase in a tangle of arms and legs.
"What happened?"
"We—we tried to get up the stairs!" Lee spluttered as he finally extracted himself from the twins; the red heads were having a bit more trouble getting free of each other. "They turned into this—this slide thing!" Behind them, someone laughed, and Fred and George groaned as they pulled themselves apart. Bill came siddling up, looking a bit smug.
"Tried to get into the girls' rooms, did you?"
"We didn't know that would happen!" said Fred—wait—yes, Fred, he didn't have the scar.
"What was that all about?" George demanded.
"Well, you see boys," said Bill, offering a hand to each twin. They grudgingly accepted his help and pulled themselves to their feet. "The founders decided when they made dormitories like this that they had to find a fail safe to keep the older boys from sneaking into the girls' dormitories." As the head boy steered the four of them toward the fireplace, Ever found herself quite pink in the face, and the twins looked a bit red around the ears. Lee was grinning widely. "So whenever a boy steps up onto the staircase, they're given two or three steps to get off, depending on how fast they're going, and then swish! It's a fall for them and a slide for any nice young lady waiting at the top of it."
"And um...would that happen if a girl went into the boys' dormitories?" Ever asked tentatively, settling herself onto one of the overstuffed armchairs. Bill's grin—and it was the same crooked smile that all the brothers seemed to share—was answer enough, but he flopped down on the arm of her chair and continued.
"No, that's the beauty of it. The founders decided that girls were more trustworthy—or, you know, cowardly, take your pick—and they didn't put the same enchantment on the other staircases. Now," he said, looking quite entertained with this little lecture, "I don't know if it's the same for all the dormitories, the sliding thing, but I know they do have the same basic idea. So boys, don't try it if you manage to sneak into the other common rooms either."
"We aren't that thick," Fred muttered. Bill ruffled his hair before heading back to his study group across the room. The younger boy scowled and smoothed his hair down, but when he caught his twin's eye, he didn't seem to be able to help the snicker that escaped. Soon the four of them were laughing, and they transitioned into lighter subjects...like detention. It was to be served the next night, as it was Friday, and they were going to be writing lines in Mr. Filch's office.
"And we've heard things about him," said Fred.
"He'll be great fun to mess with," George added.
"You'll get another detention before your first one is done with!"
"So what?" the three of them chorused, and grinned at each other. For a moment, Ever felt left out—because she wasn't going to be with them and because she was the only one who was still in completely over her head—but she brushed the thought off quickly. It doesn't matter. It doesn't. They don't care that you're muggle-born, or that you got excited over a stupidly simple wand-lighting charm, or that you don't get in trouble. They just like you.
It really doesn't matter, she thought as she made her way up to the dormitories and said a sleepy good night to Angelina and Alicia. They wouldn't keep talking to me if it did.
Maybe they would, a little voice in the back of her head protested. That was all it took to keep her awake wondering into the wee hours of morning, when she finally dozed off.